Anne Pt. 04

Anne understood and surprised herself at how calm she felt. Her body that she had kept in such good shape had betrayed her. Anne was stoical.

"I understand. Make me comfortable so I can get out of here. I have things to do."

Sybll's body shook as the sobs she tried to suppress wracked her body. For Anne the mention of the lung cancer made her think of her parents and their gypsy life, as she was a young girl. She thought she could smell the stale smoke.

"We'll need two days to set up an appropriate cocktail of drugs to help you along and keep you as comfortable as possible. We'll give you a protocol for their use. Eventually you will need a wheelchair, and a carer. I do not wish to be morbid, but I recommend you contact a hospice for your final days. They always do a wonderful job."

The Doctor left. Anne and Sybll looked at each other and both had tears in their eyes.

Sybll spoke with Jamie as to whether he would and could be a companion to Anne. He agreed. When he saw Anne for the first time in six weeks Jamie was sick to his stomach. She had lost twenty pounds. Her face was haggard and her hair seemed to have thinned out and showed a lot of grey.

Jamie grew up in about twenty seconds. His innate compassion took over. He went over and kissed Anne on the top of her head and cheerfully said, "You didn't have to go to all this bother to get me to come over, you know." He gave he a broad grin that belied the sinking feeling he had in the pit of his stomach.

Jamie became Anne's regular companion, with a nurse coming in to help with bathing and ensuring the drug protocols were used and were still working. Anne worked at clearing up all her paperwork with her usual gusto and efficiency until she suddenly drained her energy. Then she rested.

As soon as she felt some energy return she was back at it. It took about a week to clear up all the essentials. She revised her will as well.

"Jamie. I need a laptop with Word on it. I have some writing to do."

For the rest of the time Anne was writing on her laptop. She would not let Jamie see what she was writing. Jamie's curiosity got the better of him and he sneaked a look at what she was writing, but found Anne had password protected the document called 'Anne'. After a few shots at guessing the password he gave up trying. He then resolved to respect Anne's secret document.

The arc of Anne's health followed as described by the doctor. Anne moved into Sybll's house and was around in a wheelchair for the Christmas family gathering. It was a sombre event with Anne making some appearances in a wheelchair. Anne was still able to get around on foot for short periods. She had finished her writing.

One day when the house was empty, Anne wandered into the bedroom next to hers that had been converted into Sybll's office. Anne poked around and quite casually decided to play cribbage on the computer as she had done for the previous week or so, after Jamie had set it up for her. She preferred the larger screen. When she playing, an e-mail came in for Sybll.

It was titled ' Outstanding Invoice: S/H/A DNA testing. Anne was curious. Anne immediately understood what the initials stood for. Why hadn't Sybll not paid up, it could not be that much money? She'd pay the bill. Anne opened the e-mail. It was from a Lawyer:

Dear Madam,

We are writing on behalf of ABC Dynamic DNA Testing. You have an outstanding unpaid invoice for work completed by ABC for the testing of three samples, provided to establish familial relationships.

This will formally advise you that if the settlement of the above mentioned account for $763.23 is not settled in seven days, action will be taken in Small Claims Court. Credit Agencies will be advised. A full invoice is attached in PDF format.

You should note that because the familial comparisons of the DNA results did not match, under the contract you signed, this fact couldn't be used as reason to withhold settlement.

Yours,

Smith, Johnston and Reid.

Epilogue

I, Sybll Jones, (which is a pseudonym) am writing this attachment to the story written by Anne Kelly (also a false name) to correct any misunderstandings that may arise from a reading of the story. I have retained the names used in the above story for the sake of simplicity and continued anonymity.

Two things to note: Anne wrote in the third person even though it is a memoir. Clearly some of it is inferred and extrapolated from little bits of information she had. At least one small part is fiction. I initially deleted the story from the computer, but five days later recovered it from the deleted file on the computer. My reasons for retaining the story are that I have only a few tangible items from Anne; seven recovered drawings and two paintings apart from the story. Even at the end Anne's mind was clear and her writing articulate.

Let me relate about Anne's final days.

The nurse advised me that Anne was fading quickly and arrangements must be made for transfer into the hospice as soon as possible. The hospice accepted Anne two days later.

Anne spoke to me. "There is a story on my laptop. I would like you to read it and give me your comments. I know I am now almost down to the wire - is that a good metaphor for dying - so please do it immediately. I rushed putting our story down. Yes. It's about Jamie and us. You'll find typos and a lot of passive voice, but I've not been able to go back and edit it. Feel free to make that sort of change but no other - no actual content changes."

"It's my story and I've told it as want it heard. I had a strange life - the Bedouin existence early on, over twenty five years of fairly banal normality teaching with just a few summer romances thrown in, and then this recent series of family events. If it had not been for Jamie and you I may well have died alone and virtually uncared for. So read my story soon. I need to hear what you have to say about it. I'm repeating myself."

Anne lay back and closed her eyes, exhausted at by her small speech, then Anne suddenly jerked up, "The password to get into the document titled 'Anne' is 'lastpost', no uppercase." Anne slumped back.

I remember Anne's words verbatim.

Jamie and I took Anne to the hospice; Anne was admitted and quickly made to feel as if she was royalty. That night I read Anne's story, above.

I visited Anne the following morning. I saw five young people leaving as I arrived. The receptionist told me that Anne was drifting in and out, and I may have to wait until she woke. Anne was awake when I entered. Looking at me, Anne said, "Wasn't that nice. The school let five of my best Grade 12 students out to visit me. One has an auto. They are such good kids. I love them all."

Anne smiled and drifted into sleep. I did some work on my laptop until Anne woke up again.

Anne opened her eyes, oriented herself and dug deep into her last reserves of strength, "Hello Sybll. Did you read it?"

I nodded. "Well what do you think? Give it me straight. Whatever you say will not kill me." Anne's eyes twinkled as she smiled. She enjoyed her little joke, but I had difficulty in joining into my sister's mirth.

Once I had managed to get the lump in my throat to disappear I asked, "Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"Two why's really; why did you write it and why did you put in those last few paragraphs?"

"Why? It's just a memoir. Jamie might like a copy in a few years. It's just a story. I made it fairly anonymous to protect us all. You, Harry and the children and, of course, the memory of me - what there will be of it, that is."

"Why pick on just the last paragraphs. As you know Harry has eight children and their ages are different. You are not in the video/on line gaming business, but something close, and so on. There are fictions built in to protect your anonymity and the family."

"The last fiction about the invoice was a practical matter - I had no wish to have some reader assuming that God was punishing me because of my incest - you know, my cancer. Or to be able to get at you. So I twisted the end to avoid that conclusion." Anne's voice faded. She seemed to sleep for a few moments, before having a small burst of energy.

"Sybil, I am an atheist. I will be stardust in a few days. Life just goes on. I love you. Give my love to Jamie. He is fine man, and a great fuck."

Anne smiled and maintained the smile as she closed her eyes. She never regained consciousness.

I wrote this addendum, will print it off, delete the Anne file from the computer, and plan to put the printed copy in a safe place.

Sybll Jones.

* * * * *

Andrew wept as he read about his aunt, and details of that summer, fall and winter over forty years earlier. He returned the slightly brittle sheets back into their envelope.

He thought, "What nineteen year old, given a bit of encouragement, is not a good fuck? Oh, Auntie!"