The Big C

"How many people are coming, Allen?" Jack started to get testy.

"Who knows with these things. It could be twenty. It could be two hundred," Sandy interjected.

"It better not turn into a freak show!" Jack's face reddened.

"Calm down Jack. Allen's just helping out," Sandy scolded. She walked over to stand behind Jacks chair. "Come on. Let's go and say hello to Warren and Shelley."

Jack stood up and got himself steady. Then with Sandy by his side walked slowly outside. I stayed in and finished my tea. When I got outside, Jack and Sandy were sharing a laugh with Warren. Jack seemed in a better mood. The young auctioneer turned up and we all went through the sale order. I thought they would sell the big stuff first, but the intention was to start on all the sundry items. There were boxes of screws, nails and numerous hand and power tools.

"Some of this stuff can be hard to shift, so it's best to do those first," Warren said looking over the three tables of stuff. He shifted his gaze to Sandy, "it will be harder today without my sundries girl."

"Maybe I could make a comeback. After all, it's for a good cause. What do you think honey?" she asked Jack.

"I might buy some of my own tools back," he said with a laugh.

"Hmmm, I'll just go and check in my wardrobe to see if I have something appropriate to wear." Sandy said before strutting back to the house.

Cars and utes had already rolled into the back lot. The smell of bacon on the grill wafted through the air and there was a sense of excitement building. The early starters milled around the equipment outside. A couple lined up to register as bidders for the day. The coffee van arrived completing the smell of breakfast.

By the auction start time, the back lot was full. Other vehicles packed into any spot they could find along the streets including some neighbors front yards. Other builders from around the district surrounded Jack and he was having a great time.

The young auctioneer stood on a box so he was well above the crowd and yelled out.

"Saleooo! Saleooo! We will be starting here at the three tables in one minute."

On cue, Sandy came out of the house. Wowsers! She wasn't just hot, she was on fire. Dressed in short, and I mean short, denim cut offs and a red halter top that was barely managing to hold in her breasts. She must have had a wonder bra on or some padding because I was sure that she isn't that big. A short brown leather jacket and ankle high cowgirl boots finished off the outfit. Daisy Duke eat your heart out.

The crowd around the table parted like the Red sea for Moses as she sashayed towards us. Holding out her hand, I help her onto another box beside the auctioneer. Then I passed her the first item. I don't know if it was just her, but the bidding got off to a frantic pace. We got through the sundries in an hour with most items selling higher than the value Jack and I put on them. Once the tables cleared, we moved into the shed for some larger items. Sandy went inside, coming out a short time later in different clothes with less skin on display.

She walked to Jack and stood with him in a group of builder friends. Once the gear in the shed sold, the builders deserted Jack as they stood around the bigger equipment. There was a bobcat on a trailer with accessories, a backhoe with trencher, concrete pump and hoses, and his five ton work truck with hoist and racks. The builders competed fiercely with some of the bidding coming close to new prices.

It was all over by eleven thirty. Some of the people that purchased early had paid and gone, but there was still a big crowd. The Lion's Club van was doing a roaring trade in sausage sandwiches. However another ute pulling up with a tarp tied over a loaded tray usurped the coffee cart.

A large man got out of the front, followed by two girls in shirts plastered with advertising for a beer brand. The guy uncovered the back of the ute to a big cheer from those closest to him. It had four big tubs full of ice and beer. I found out later the guy was a publican at one of the locals. He'd part filled the four tubs with ice before topping one up with beer from his own establishment. Then he went to the other liquor outlets and they matched his donation in the other tubs.

So then the party started. The Lion's Club van ran out of food. They took a slightly inebriated butcher down to his shop to load up with more sausages. People surrounded Jack and Sandy all afternoon showing their support and I guess, sadly, saying goodbye. I had to get Jack's wheelchair from the house as the standing took its toll on him.

Once the free beer ran out, the crowd began to disperse. I stood with Jack and Sandy when Warren, his wife, and daughter came to say goodbye. After some tearful embraces, Warren handed over two big rolls of cash.

"This is for all the little stuff. That way, the taxman won't need to know. I'll deposit the other money from the bigger items in your account, once the cheques clear."

Taking the money, Jack looked up at him. "Thanks mate. If I'd have known it was going to get like this, I would have said no, but then I would have missed a today. You deserve more than your ten percent today."

"No son, no charge today, and I'd do the same tomorrow just to see my sundries girl, again." Warren replied making light of his contribution. "If you have some spare time on a weekend Sandy, I'll give you a job."

"You couldn't afford me anymore," she retorted slapping him on the arm.

The crowd had thinned and only the builders remained loading up, hitching up, or preparing to drive away their purchases. I went inside, got a few more drinks from Jack's bar fridge, and took them outside so he could have one last drink with his mates. Sandy and I went back inside, watching from the window as they stood around Jack talking.

"Thanks for doing this," Sandy said putting her arm around my waist and laying her head on the shoulder nearest her.

"I didn't do anything. I just rang Warren."

"But we wouldn't have done that. Maybe I would have after, but not before. He will treasure this day, I'm sure." She replied wiping tears from her eyes.

His mates started to shake Jack's hand. Sandy went back out to say goodbye and so she could wheel him back inside. I made myself scarce packing my things in the guest room, as I knew it was an emotional moment for both of them. I came out thirty minutes later to find Jack and Sandy in the kitchen. Jack talked to Sandy, dissecting the day as she prepared dinner.

"You're not going anywhere, mister." Sandy said on seeing me with my bag.

"I'd best get going,. I have to work tomorrow. It's been a big day," I protested.

"No way, put your bag back in there. Then come out here and have a drink."

"Really...I should be going," I wavered.

"Are you going to argue with a lady holding a sharp knife?" Sandy demanded, pointing the large knife at me with a playful grin.

"Just get up early and go home tomorrow, mate." Jack joined in. "Come on, Sandy's doing my favorite dinner tonight, spicy butter chicken."

Sighing, I returned to the guest room depositing my bag on the bed before going back to the kitchen. I picked up the glass of wine they'd poured for me and sat on the other side of the bench as Sandy prepared dinner.

It may have been Jack's favorite, but he could barely keep his eyes open at the dinner table. He was seriously fatigued after missing his afternoon sleep and all the activity that day. Not to mention, he'd drunk quite a few ales as well. Tonight, I wheeled him down to the bedroom and got him into bed while Sandy cleaned up. I came back feeling very tired myself, so I told Sandy I was going to have a shower and go to bed.

"Me too, it was a long day."

So, Sandy moved towards the main bedroom and I went to the bathroom. After a long hot shower, I walked back to the guest room turning off the lights as I went. I put my clothes on a chair just inside the guest room door and turned to close it when a voice behind me made me jump out of my skin.

"About time you got here, I nearly went to sleep."

I turned to see Sandy in the bed, covers up to her chin.

"Come on, turn the light off and get in here."

As I turned off the light, my thoughts went back to Sandy's Daisy Duke impersonation from earlier in the day and I became more aroused. A childhood fantasy crossed off tonight, well, sort of. After an all to brief interlude, the childhood fantasy put me over the edge very quickly, I was sound asleep. Waking in the night, I expected Sandy to be gone but her sleeping form huddled behind me.

I rolled over and she did too before pushing back against me. I draped my arm around her, my hand moved up to cup her naked breast. I lightly caressed her nipple and she wiggled her butt against my growing erection.

"Do you think you can wait for me this time?" Sandy mumbled sleepily.

"I certainly hope so," I replied earnestly.

"Good, but maybe I should make sure."

Sandy rolled to face me, pushed me onto my back, and climbed on top. "Now, I don't care what you have to do, but you'd better get me off first," she scolded.

"Yes ma'am!" I replied in my best southern US accent.

Sliding herself down my cock, she asked, "so you like a girl in boots?"

"Oh yes," I panted.

"Well, think of me in something else. This is my turn."

I let her have a turn. In fact, she had two before I lost it again. Sandy collapse on top of me falling asleep with my cock still inside her. The alarm went off at five with Sandy still in the bed.

"I've got to go." I whispered getting up.

"So do I," she replied, "don't turn the light on until I'm gone."

I got home, showered, changed, and was at work almost on time. It took me a couple of days to get over that big weekend. Thursday evening, I was watering some plants in the garden, daydreaming about Daisy Duke, when the bells went off above the back door signaling my home phone was ringing. I didn't hurry inside. It was probably a telemarketer, anyway. I returned to the memory of Sandy walking through the crowd at the auction.

The bells stopped and I was thankful for the silence. Five minutes later, they started again, but I still didn't run inside. If it's someone I know they will ring my mobile. I continued watering. A couple of minutes later, I felt my pocket and realized my mobile was inside. Then the bells started again and this time I ran.

"Hello?" I said breathlessly.

"Allan, oh thank god," it was Sandy.

"What's wrong?" I asked worried by the distress in her voice.

"It's...I..." she started crying, "please can you come I...I...can't explain."

"I'll be right there." I replied trying to reassure her.

She hung up and I went straight to the car driving like a maniac to get there. All the way, I tried to get her back on the phone, but she wouldn't or couldn't answer. I drove onto their street expecting to see the flashing lights of the ambulance, police, or something happening. Except it just looked normal. The outside light over the front door burned bright, but that was it.

I got to the door and knocked. Sandy answered, her eyes red from crying. She rushed into my arms bursting into a fresh round of sobbing. I got her inside, sat her on the lounge, and checked on Jack. He was asleep and appeared comfortable. I returned to Sandy and sat beside her.

"What's up, Sandy?" I asked easing her hands from her face.

"He's given up. He's just waiting to die!"

"What happened?"

"Monday morning, he wasn't well. I...I just put it down to the big weekend and the beer and..." she dissolved into tears again.

"Come on, Sandy. Take a few deep breaths and just calm down a bit." I said gently, putting my arm around her.

After regaining control of her breathing, she continued. "That night he was no better, so I rang the local GP to see if he could drop in the next morning." Now that Jack had finished his cancer treatment, the local doctor looked after of his palliative care. " He looked at Jack and suggested that I take Jack to the base hospital for some scans. The cancers everywhere Allen. It's gone berserk. He shouldn't have gone off the new drug."

"The doctor told you it was a short term thing, Sandy."

"I know." She almost lost it again, then pulled herself together. "They only give him two weeks." That started the tears, again.

I held her for some time, until she felt she could talk again.

"The doctors want to see him again tomorrow to discuss pain relief. I just can't face it on my own. Jack has become so withdrawn and distant. He doesn't want to eat. He doesn't want to get out of bed. I don't know what to do. Can you stay, please?"

"Yes, I can stay. Have you been getting any sleep?" I worried about Sandy's physical as well as mental state.

"No, I just keep thinking."

"Did the doctors prescribed anything for you?"

"Yes, but I can't take them. What if Jack wakes up and needs me? What if I can't wake up?"

"I'm here tonight. I'll spend the night in your room. You, have a shower, take a couple of pills, and go to bed in the spare bed."

"But what if he..." I shushed her.

"No talking back. Into the shower, then into bed. Dr Allen's orders. Now go!"

She stood up. Halfway to the bathroom, she turned around to argue again, but I simply pointed to the door and she left. I got a glass of water and the iPad I had brought with me, then walked to the main bedroom. I sat in the comfy chair beside Jack's bed, fired up the kindle app on my tablet, and started reading the latest Lee Child novel. I'd reached the first fight scene when Jack woke up.

"Is that you, Allan?" He asked weakly.

"Yeah, mate."

"Did Sandy call you?"

"Yes, she's worried about you Jack."

"I guess she won't have to worry for much longer then," he said bitterly.

"Come on, Jack, where is this coming from?"

"I'm fucking dying Allan. It changes your perspective!"

"Really, well here's something for you to think about, Jack. We are all dying. Tonight everybody is twelve hours closer to dying than what they were when they got up this morning."

"It's not the same."

"No shit. Of course it's not, but before you get all woe is me, why does all the bad stuff happen to me? I want you to think about something. The other day six kids were gunned down in a school. They went to school like it was just another day. Three hours later, they are cowering under a desks as some mad arsehole, with authority issues and an automatic weapon, walks into their classroom blasting away like he's playing a video game.

They died in abject terror and probably in agony, because I bet the fucker couldn't shoot straight. They died alone, away from their loved ones, in a place they probably didn't even like.

Now you, poor Jack, you get to go in your bed, so whacked out on drugs the only thing you will be aware of is the touch of your wife. She will be holding your hand through all of this and when you've gone and are at peace, she will be crying her heart out. Even though she has been doing that in her private moments for a long time, nothing prepares you for that moment when the person you love is just a lifeless shell." Tears were streaming down my face as I remembered sitting next to my wife's bed in the hospice. Her eyes closed, her hand cold, and her mouth hanging open with a bit of spittle on her chin.

"Spare me your home spun philosophy Allan. I mean, where is this peace and calm you crapped on about at the start. It's fine for you, you're just thinking with your dick."

"So that is what this is about? Spare me your hypocrisy. You practically begged me to help Sandy out and I have never rubbed it in your face."

"She didn't come back to her bed the other night!" he retorted.

"She fell asleep, Jack!" It was on the tip of my tongue that I didn't get her off the first time, but that would have been too much information.

Jack was silent. After a while I wondered if he had drifted off to sleep. Looking closer, I could see tears running down his cheeks.

"Come on mate,." I pulled the chair closer to his bed.

"I don't want die,. I know that sounds pathetic, but I don't want to die," Jack mumbled.

"It's not pathetic. It's what Sandy wants to hear. She thinks you have given up."

"The doctors have given up, why shouldn't I?"

He had a point, but I didn't agree with him. "Alright Jack, how about we look at it a different way. Let's say that you go to a fortune teller and she tells you, no matter what you do, in two weeks you are going to get hit by a truck. Do you lay down on the road and wait for it? or do you live every minute of those two weeks like the precious gift they are? The next couple of weeks will be defined by how you choose to live it not by how you die, because we know how this story ends."

Neither of us spoke for the next twenty minutes,. I sat back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Jack was the one who broke the silence, again.

"Where's Sandy?"

"She is in the guest bedroom,. I told her to take a couple of the sleeping pills the doctor prescribed and get some rest. She looked a wreck, Jack, I'll stay in here tonight."

"Oh okay, " Jack rolled onto his side facing away from me,. I reached back and got my iPad to resume reading.

A little later, Jack rolled back. "What are you reading?"

"It's just a fiction book, about an ex-army guy who drifts around the US getting himself into scrapes with bad guys, before saving the day. It's action, thriller sort of stuff. His names Jack Reacher and he's like a gunslinger from the old style westerns." I suddenly realized the light might have been keeping him awake. "I can stop if the lights to bright."

"No it's fine,. I'm not tired at present. Did they make a movie about this guy recently?"

"Yeah, it was a joke. The books are one hundred times better. In the books, Reacher is over six foot, a real man mountain with a craggy face. Then they picked short arsed, baby faced Tom Cruise in the lead role. It was a travesty."

"Um this is going to sound weird, but could you read it aloud to me till I go to sleep?"

"Yeah, but I'm warning you, I might be a little rusty. The last time I read aloud it was a nursery rhyme book to my kids."

I started reading and it did felt weird. I started at the beginning, which made it easier, as I knew what was coming up. As I got into the story, I got swept up in it. Jacks eyes were closed, so I assumed he was asleep and I stopped.

"Keep going, I'm listening," Jack barked, so I did.

At the end of chapter eight, Jack stopped me. "That's enough, you can stop now. I'm tired."

I stopped reading aloud, but continued to read to myself when a Jack spoke again. "No mate, stop. Don't read ahead. You can continue tomorrow when I wake up." I opened my mouth to protest, but he stopped me. "Who's dying here?"

"How long are you going to use that old chestnut?" I asked with a grin.

"As long as it takes. Goodnight Allen." He rolled over the other way.

I woke the next morning with a numb bum and a sore neck. It was only just light and Jack still slept, I stood up and stretched, then went out to the kitchen. Putting the kettle on, I got the stuff out to make a cup of tea. I just sat down with my tea and a piece of toast when Sandy came out, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I said looking up at her gorgeous form.

She was wearing a t-shirt that just came down far enough to meet the lacy panties below. The shirt was tight across her chest, so the outline of her breasts with the nipples prominent were clearly visible. I looked away, quickly, remembering the conversation the night before.

"How was Jack with you?"

"Um...we had a spirited discussion. We went to sleep on better terms, but I guess we will see when he wakes up."

"Did he say anything about..." She didn't finish the sentence, but I got the drift.