Jamie, Casper and the Cancer;
a three person show                     by: Yoko Klyn
He told me earlier, but I just didn't believe him. How could I? My brother.
My big brother. Oh god, it was so obvious. He was always sick. I just never
accepted it. The sickness was like an everyday thing; nothing to get worked
up over. Our parents, however, felt it was a little disturbing to tell their
son that his big brother was sick with cancer.
Maybe it was best that I was not told.
Jamie and his little brother, Casper lived in a small town called Newton.
Their parents, Thomas and Elyse stayed married for 20 years. When they both
lost something that they cherished so dearly, they just couldn't keep it
together any longer. They divorsed.
You see, I never quite allowed Jamie to have a boring life. He was always
told by his doctors to take it easy, to stay in bed, but since I did not know
about the cancer, I made him have fun. Jamie's only friend in the world was
me. Only me. Why his little brother? He was home schooled and never got out
of the house unless it was on one of his many trips to the doctor's office.
When Jamie finally told me that afternoon, I got mad. "You're lying," I
said. Yet there he sat in his bed, sick and pale and cold. I realized that
the truth was a horrible feeling, and I wanted to get as far away from it as
possible. So I took a walk around the town. I was seriously thinking of
running away.
Jamie was the one true figure in my life that I actually depended on. He
taught me things such as how to camp and how to make a fire. He also tought
me about girls. He never had one girlfriend in his life, but he was telling
me how to treat a young lady. I suppose it was all from Dad. Jamie felt that
he needed to share most of all that he was taught with me, as if I were the
son he always wanted like a real man would want.
I came back when the house was nearly empty. Mom and Dad were out meeting
with a doctor. Jamie said, "The doctor said he had some bad news for them.
So, Mom and Dad will come back with bad news."
He already knew that he was going to die. And he seemed almost happy about
it. Yes, happy. I think it was just relieving; knowing that the pain was
going to end soon. That the cancer was going to die. But what did not make
him fully happy was the fact that his little brother was going to lose him.
Jamie was alomst 18, and I was 16. I was going to school, had girlfriends
and homework and friends. But no matter how big all of that got, I always had
time with Jamie to hang out and have fun. I preferred to be with him, in fact.
"What's the bad news gonna be, Jamie?" I asked. "Do you know what it is?"
He lowered his head, then nodded gently. He looked back up at me with a
forced smile that didn't seem all too forced. "I'm going to die, Casper.
Jamie's gonna die."
I heard it, yet I did not move. I heard it clear as water in a spring
flowing creek. I should have fell right then and there, sobbing frantically
and pleading that it wasn't so. But it was. I knew the truth. It was all
hitting me in the face after reviewing all the years that had rushed by. The
pills, the doctor's appointments, the sickness...it was all too obvious, and
I just wouldn't accept it in those days. But I was now, because the truth was
there, and no matter what, if I liked it or not, I was going to see it and
recognize it.
"Jamie, what should I do? You're the reason why I get up every morning," I
said. "What am I gonna do when you leave?"
We sat with eachother for some time, trying to figure out what to do. We
came up empty. But all the while, Jamie was glad that he was going to die.
Glad? I thought. Why should he be glad?! But I now understand. I understand
why he wanted all the pain to be taken away from him, and in a way, I'm glad
that it was taken even if it costed his life as well.

A Monday came; the folks were gone. Out to another meeting with another
doctor, of course. They were trying so hard to keep their son alive. I
encouraged them to go. I wanted Jamie to live more than anyone else did. But
I was going to have to let go of him. It was hard. So very hard.
There he layed in his bed soaked with sweat. He kept sweating and sweating
out of the many emotions he felt that day. It was his day. Fear, panick,
happiness and pleasure. I couldn't understand it, but it was happening. He
was dying, and I was the only one to be there when it happened.
"Casper," Jamie called out in panick. I jumped up from my trance in sleep.
I gabbed his hand and looked into his eyes. I had been doing that all day,
each time that he called out my name. Each time, I feared for the end. This
time, it was really happening. The doctor said that it would any day by then.
I was waiting and waiting like a mad man.
"Casper," he looked right into my eyes. Right into them. "Remember the
time you saw my head bald? And you asked why it was, do you remember that
time?"
I nodded.
"And I said that it was just fake, that my hair was actually stuffed in that
plastic bald wig. You laughed, and tried to take it off.....I'm sorry I got
mad at you."
"Yeah," I chuckled. "You cussed for the first time in front of me then.
How old were we? I can't remember."
"I was 12 and you were 10 1/2. You cried so much, and I've always felt bad
about that; about not being able to tell you it was the cancer." He studied
me for a moment. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. And for any of the other times
that I was mean to you on a count of the damn cancer. I'm sorry for not
telling you. But you've gotta realize that I didn't want you to know that
you're big brother was going to die on you someday."
I began crying, but I held it back long enough for him to say his final
words to me.
"I'm gonna miss the day you get married. I'm gonna miss your child's birth
and so on and so on. I'm gonna miss alot out on you. I won't be here in
person, sure. But you know...you know I'll be here in my own special little
way."
We cried. Oh my god, we cried. And I'll never forget the way he looked. He
was so pale, and in so much pain. The cancer was doing it's final act, and I
was the audience. But Jamie couldn't bare for me to see it finally take over.
He tried all of his life to make sure that I wouldn't see it take him and
consume him to the point where he was gone. So he sent me out, saying,
"Casper, my throat is dry. Could you go downstairs and fetch me some water?
Please?"
I stood. I watched. I nodded. Then I turned and walked out that door. When
I reached the steps, I stopped and curled up in a ball. I sat and waited. I
rocked back and forth, glancing into his bedroom to see only his torso poking
out while he layed in bed, slowly rising up, then down, showing me that he
was breathing. I could feel it as I watched it become motionless. It came
down completly. It stopped dead. A rush flew through my vains, my mind, my
skin. I knew that he was passing through me, saying, "It'll be OK little
brother."

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