The Courtyard

It was a small and quiet courtyard, very pretty, very secluded, with walls all around it, the entire courtyard probably taking up a span no more than twelve feet by twelve feet. There were bushes in pots and potted flowers on the walls and on the stone floor, wooden benches all around, and a small fountain in the middle of the courtyard. I sat out there almost fifteen hours a day for two weeks straight and I hadn’t seen a single person come through. It was set back off the main hallway, off the ICU seventh floor facilities, somewhere on the roof of the doctor’s office building, because you had to go over a small bridge to get there, and the hospital kept going up on two sides, but on the other two you could see out over the city. The view was nice. It was very hard to find, but the nurses told me about it and said that I would be fine to just go sit out there. I would be alone with my thoughts. And no one would bother me.

At least that’s what I thought before that Thursday. It was almost sunset and I leaned against the wall, watching it set over the horizon and watching the cars go by below. There had been a parade earlier in the day, I’m not sure why, I think the baseball team may have won the World Series, but I never could tell exactly what it was for sure. But the traffic was just starting to clear up and I watched all the cars and people scurrying along the street below.

“It’s really pretty out here, isn’t it...” the voice from behind me made me jump about a mile and turn around. I leaned against the wall for support and breathed deeply as I stared at the boy standing at the other side of the courtyard, just a step off the bridge. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. My name is Matt. Matt Brodey.”

“I’m Rachel Spencer,” I replied in my breathless manner. I managed to calm myself down and stop my heart from beating a thousand miles a minute.

“I really didn’t mean to scare you. The nurses said it was okay for me to come out here again,” he said as he took a seat on one of the benches.

“Again? I’ve never seen you out here before...”

“I haven’t been out here in about a month. I haven’t been well enough.”

“What’s wrong with you?” The second the words left my mouth I regretted it. “I’m sorry, that was rude. You don’t have to answer that question,” I said quietly as I sat on a bench near his.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind talking about it. I’ve dealt with it. I have leukemia. I’ve had it since I was thirteen.”

“How old are you now?”

“I’ll be eighteen on November 27.”

“You’ve lived with it for five years? That must be Hell...”

“Well, yeah. The treatments suck and when it gets bad there are times when I can’t leave my bed, but I’ve dealt with it, and I’ve accepted it. I live with it...” There were a few moments of silence as we both watched the golden sun slipping below the city. I know it was rising somewhere else, but I’ve always loved the sun, and I miss it when it’s gone at night. “Why are you here?” he asked quietly. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to...”

“My mother was in a really bad car accident last week. She was air lifted here from Anderson, and Daddy refuses to leave her side, and there’s really nowhere else I can stay, so I just stay here. I sleep in the room with Daddy and I stay out here whenever I can. Hospitals just creep me out...” I mumbled. He just nodded.

“I know the feeling,” he sighed in return.

That was all we said that night. We just sat there for about an hour after it got dark, until one of the nurses came out looking for him. I said good night, and took my post back at the wall to watch the lights of the cars in the dark streets below.



Early the next morning, after Daddy woke me up and made me go eat breakfast, I went back out to the courtyard, like I did every day. I took my muffins and my orange juice and lay on one of the benches, trying to fall asleep.

“Morning. Rachel...” a voice said, coming across the bridge. Once again, I almost jumped a mile, but then I realized who was talking to me. I sat up and leaned against the back of the bench as I broke off the top of one muffin.

“Morning, Matt. Would you like a cinnamon muffin?” I offered him half of my food. He shook his head, but sat down beside me.

“No thank you. That’s your breakfast. Besides, I just ate breakfast myself, so I’m not hungry.” I nodded and went back to eating. We sat in silence for a few moments, before Matt stood and went to the wall, to lean against it.

“You always forget how beautiful things are when you see them every day...” his voice trailed off. I looked at him quizzically and joined him at the wall.

“I’m not sure I understand exactly what you mean.” Matt looked at me, then down at the streets below us, a look on his face that told me he was trying his hardest to explain a difficult concept.

“It’s hard to put words to it...” he paused and looked around. Then he pointed to something. “There--you see that park over there? Just beyond those houses?” I followed his gaze and looked to where his finger pointed at a small plot of green, with some old, colors-beginning-to-fade, pieces of playground equipment.

“Yeah? It’s a down town park that desperately needs repair and that doesn’t look like that much fun.”

“Well to me, that playground is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”

“How is that possible?”

“Because I don’t see it as a run down playground. I think of it as a park that was well loved and well used. That playground represents childhood and freedom--something that I miss. I missed out on the second half of my childhood. And that playground looks like it was used over and over by many children. See? That swing that’s broken? It was used and loved so much, it just got worn out. See that slide? It looks like it would fall down. It was loved. The grass that has dies from being run over so much provided a place for children to play and escape. A place to lay under the blue sky and look up at the clouds and the bright air. That ‘rundown’ patch of land, too me, is the freedom I can’t have because of this disease. Because of this hospital.” He looked at me with his pale blue eyes. “Do you understand at all?” I just looked back, mesmerized.

“Are you sure you’re only seventeen?” Matt laughed and I joined him. He shook his head as his laughter died and looked at his hands, which he wrung together.

“I guess being in the hospital this long gave me a lot of time to think. I miss the things I used to take for granted.” He looked at me and cracked another smile. “Sorry. I’m being a downer, aren’t I?” I laughed and smiled at him, but shook my head.

“You’re fine, Matt. Don’t worry.” I smiled at him.

“So how’s your mother doing?” he asked as he went back to sit on the bench. I leaned against the wall, my back to him, and sighed.

“Not so good. The doctors say she’s fading. They said she probably won’t make it through the end of the summer.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I didn’t know...” he said quietly, almost so quiet that I couldn’t hear him. I turned to face him, wiping my eyes quickly and forcing a smile.

“It’s okay. I’ve dealt with it.”

“Have you really? Or are you just telling yourself that to make yourself feel better?” I just looked at him. It was almost as if he was reading my mind, and I just turned my head, shaking it slightly.

“Really...I’m okay with it...I’ve dealt...I know it’s coming, and I’ll be okay when it does...”

“I don’t believe you. It’s not possible to be okay when you loose someone that special to you, Rachel...” his low and soft voice trailed off as I bit my lip and tried my hardest to fight back the tears. “I’m sorry...” I heard him say as he began to get up and come over. He put a hand on my shoulder. “I never have known when to stop--when to let it go. I’m sorry, Rachel...”

“It’s okay, Matt. I shouldn’t fool myself...I’m the one who’s sorry.” He just smiled at me and all was forgiven.



In the next few weeks, Matt and I spent a lot of time together, almost all day every day, talking to each other and laughing. It was nice to have a friend here, because I didn’t know anyone in Dallas except my parents and the nurses who were old and besides, they were always too busy to bother with non-patients problems. There were some nights when we were both up until well after midnight, sitting out there and just talking, until one of his nurses came bustling out to find him when they realized he still wasn’t asleep.

One morning, I sat out on one of the benches, reading a magazine and waiting for Matt to come out. By noon, he still wasn’t there, and I began to worry. I went into the building and managed to find one of the nurses.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but could you tell me please where Matt Brodey’s room is?” she smiled at me.

“Sure, honey. He’s over in room 715. But be careful, he may be asleep. He had an attack last night.”

“Is he okay?” I asked, alarmed.

“He seems to be. But we need to watch him. You never know in those cases...” she went back to her work. I thanked her hurriedly and rushed over to room 715. I slowed as I reached the door and knocked quietly. A soft voice answered from the other side.

“Come in...” I opened the door and peeked in, to see Matt lying in his bed. He seemed so weak and fragile, not at all like I knew him.

“Hey, Rachel! Mom, this is Rachel. Rachel, this is my mother and my sister Heather.” He said, nodding his head to the two people in his room. They both smiled at me. “Rachel can sit with me for awhile, Mom. Y’all go get some rest, okay? You’ve been here forever...”

“All right, Matthew...now you make sure he gets some rest, would you, Rachel? He hasn’t been feeling all too well.” His mother kissed his forehead and turned to me.

“All right, Mrs. Brodey. I’ll be sure.” She nodded to me, and she left, with Heather close behind her.

“She seems really nice...” I said, as I sat in the chair beside his bed.

“She worries too much. She’s great and I love her, of course, and she does everything possible to make me happy, but she worries so much and I’m really afraid she’s going to make herself sick.”

“How are you feeling, Matt? The nurse said something about an attack?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. The doctors are just kind of worried.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Rachel, don’t you worry.” Matt cringed, I assume in pain.

“Are you sure you are all right, Matt? You look hurt.”

“I’ll be okay. Just give me a minute. Could you go get me some water?” I nodded and hurried out, coming back with a large glass of ice water. He drank it don slowly, closing his eyes. He was in pain. No matter how much he wanted to pretend he wasn’t, he was. I closed my eyes and tried to make the realities go away. I mean, I had known all along that Matt was sick, I had known all along that he had leukemia, but I hadn’t actually let it sink in. I had never let myself admit that he might actually be hurting and going through pain. I squeezed my eyes to keep the tears in, took a deep breath, and looked at Matt, who smiled at me weakly.

“I know what you’re thinking, Rachel. You never thought I could actually be sick. I didn’t look sick. I know I don’t act sick. But I am, and I can’t change that. Rachel, I didn’t ask to be sick. I didn’t ask to be placed in a hospital for the better part of the last five years of my life. I didn’t ask to be like this. There are moments in your life that make you, that set the course of who you’re going to be. Sometimes they’re little, subtle moments; and sometimes they’re...not. Bottom line is, even if you see them coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really anyway. But it does. So what are we? Helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come, you can’t help that. It’s what you do afterwards that counts. That’s when you find out who you really are. Rachel, this is just the way life is, and you know that. Everyone knows that. Everyone deals with it. You can’t choose your moments...” I looked down then looked at him.

“Did you just make that up, Matt?”

“No, actually...” he said sheepishly. “I heard it on Buffy once. I always wanted to say it...” I smiled at him and had to laugh a little bit through my forming tears. He had a way of making everything okay again—making everything all better.

“Well thank you Matt. It’s a very good thing to remember. Thank you...” I leaned over and hugged him. He still seemed to be in pain, so I just walked towards the door. “Get some sleep now, Matt. It will help you get better.” He nodded and lay back in his bed, closed his eyes, and was very soon sound asleep. I turned out the lights, closed the door, and made my way back down the hallway to my mother’s room. I stepped carefully inside, almost scared. I have always hated hospitals, and this one was no exception. But I felt as though I had to do this. I sat in the chair beside Momma’s bed, across the room from where Daddy was sleeping on his cot, and took Momma’s hand.

“Momma...I just wanted to tell you...that...well, I wanted to make sure you realize how much a love you. I know you think you know, because you are my mother and all, but that’s not the only reason. I really do love you as a person. You are one of the sweetest and kindest and most loving and caring people I have ever met in my entire life...and I just want you to know...I wanted you to know that I knew that...I love you so much...and no matter what happens... I will never stop loving you. Never, Momma...I promise...” I put my forehead against her hand and just held it; Momma’s pale, limp hand in my tan and healthy one. I stopped trying to fight the tears that had been building in my heart for the past month and just let them flow until I simply couldn’t cry any longer. Once that time came, I kissed Momma’s forehead, lay her hand on her stomach where it had been, and slipped out of the room.



I walked down the hall slowly, not really paying attention to much around me. I was tired and kind of in a daze. I knocked on the door marked 715 and heard the soft voice behind it. “Come on in, Rachel...”

I opened the door, sticking my head in with a smile. “How did you know it was going to be me?”

“Lucky guess?” I smiled and sat in the chair beside his bed.

“So, how are you? Where are your mother and sister?” I asked as I looked around and saw no other people in the room.

“They went home. Mom couldn’t handle it anymore...The doctors said I probably won’t make it through the night, Rachel. I probably have less than twelve hours left. They gave me medicine to ease the pain, but there is nothing else they can do...” He wouldn’t look at me. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying not to cry and trying to be strong for his sake. I didn’t know what to say. But before I could, Matt went on. “I’m scared, Rachel...I always told myself I knew this was coming...that I would be okay with it when it came. But I’m not...I’m scared so bad, Rachel...I don’t want to be alone.”

“Don’t worry, Matt. You won’t be alone. I’m not leaving your side...” I took his hand and slid my chair closer. He gripped my hand as hard as he could.

“I don’t want to die, Rachel...I’m not ready to die yet...I’m not ready for this to happen...” Matt stopped fighting his tears and let the waterfall flow over his cheeks.

“You can’t choose your moments...even if you see them coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really anyway. But it does. A really smart guy told me that once...” Matt smiled through his tears.

“Don’t leave me, Rachel...please don’t leave me...”

“I promise...” I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back as hard as he could. He finally fell asleep and I just sat there, watching him, until finally, early the next morning, his face softened and his breathing slowly stopped. He was gone and I knew it. But I refused to leave him. I sat there with him, holding his hand through it all, and crying his tears through my eyes.