The Last Great Adventure (pt. 2)
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Beyond pointing out some wildlife or interesting plants, Teddy and Wes didn’t speak much more as they continued their trek. Soon, the sun was nearing the horizon and they found a little clearing in which to settle down for the night. Teddy used his bush knife to carve some tent pegs out of sticks and soon had a lean-to constructed using Wes’ tarp and some cordage he’d packed.
Wes collected some small twigs and other kindling to get a fire going. Although neither expected the night to get cold enough to need the fire for survival, the smoke would keep the bugs away and staring into the light of a flame was a rite of passage for any night spent outdoors. Plus, campfires are a kind of magic.
For Teddy, gazing into the flicker of a campfire felt like communing with God. The beauty and danger of fire reminded him of Sunday School stories. How one God could create the entire splendid world, but could wash it all away in a devastating flood, or would hold back the sea for His people and send it crashing down with destructive force on their oppressors.
Wes had always felt that fire was like the truth. It was powerful and useful, but would burn you if you mishandled it. It could sweep through a forest and clear away debris while leaving the sturdiest trees largely undamaged, or it could sweep through a house and leave nothing but ash and pain. Truth could illuminate or blind. So Wes judiciously contained the truth as best he could, only letting out just enough, at just the right times.
“So, what’s up?” Teddy’s voice barely rose above the crackling fire.
“What do you mean?” Wes didn’t look up from the flame.
“I can tell something is off with you.”
“I’m just not eager to go back to school.”
“Wes, don’t block me out man. You can tell me anything. You know that.”
“I mean… It’s hard to talk about this,” Wes said before he finally met Teddy’s gaze. “Your mom is super hot.” Wes’ eyes glowed with mischief and he stifled a grin.
“Ew! Dude, that’s so gross.” Teddy made a retching sound and shook his head dramatically. Teddy knew from experience that getting to the root of things was a mining operation with Wes. Prying too hard or digging too fast would collapse the whole thing. But Teddy resolved to trust in the magic of campfires. “I’m serious, Wes. Whatever’s going on, I’m here for you. I want to know. I want to help.”
Wes’ shoulders slumped just a little, and he sighed. “I know. I trust you completely, but…” Wes trailed off without finishing the thought. His eyes didn’t leave the fire, and Teddy grew restless as the pause entered its third trimester.
Teddy gently prodded. “But?”
“But I don’t know how to talk about this. I promise I’m not trying to block you out, OK? I just need more time to figure out how to talk about it.”
“That’s fair, man. I’m here for you whenever you need me.”
The conversation lulled for a few minutes and the friends stared into the flames. Wes inhaled deeply and blurted out, “I’m dying Teddy.”
Teddy felt like his heart stopped beating. He replayed the words in his head, trying to force them to make sense. “What?” Teddy sounded more confused than upset.
“My cancer came back.”
“Cancer? Wait, ‘came back’? When did—?”
“I know. I never told you about it. It was when I was a little kid, before we moved here. The treatment worked and it went into remission, but it’s back now.”
“But, why can’t they treat it again?”
“Teddy, I don’t want to miss my entire Senior year—”
“They can treat it again, Wes. If it went away once surely they’ve been watching you right? It’s gotta be like, early still. They wouldn’t have missed it, right? They can treat it.”
“Teddy, that’s not—”
Panic rose in Teddy’s voice. “You aren’t dying, you just need to fight. You can’t just give up, Wes,”
“Teddy—”
“I’ll help you fight man. I’ll be there with you. They can treat it, bro.”
“TEDDY!” Wes’ voice was swallowed by the trees. “Treatment is brutal, Teddy. I missed years of my childhood because I was too sick to do anything. I don’t want to miss my entire senior year just to maybe, hopefully never have the cancer come back.”
“Your mom is OK with this?!”
“Mom doesn’t know. I just found out last week. I haven’t told her yet. She’d try to make me accept treatment.”
“Wes, you have to let them treat you. You’re still young, man. You can’t just give up!” Teddy was beginning to grow angry, and hot tears streamed down his face. “If you expect me to stand by and watch you die… I’ll tell your mom dude!”
“No, Teddy. You won’t. And I don’t have to accept treatment.”
Wes had gone through kindergarten twice, Teddy knew, but they’d been in the same class together since the second half of 1st grade, so Teddy always thought of Wes as his peer. Suddenly the 10 month difference in their age felt like a million years. Wes had turned 18 in June.
“Wes, I don’t want you to die. You’re my best friend.”
“I know. You too, man. But I can’t do treatment again. I don’t think there’s anything worse than trying so hard not to die you miss out on life.” Another silence covered them, punctuated only by the occasional snapping of the fire.
Eventually Wes spoke again. “We should get some sleep. Who knows where the creek will lead us tomorrow?”