Handprint On My Heart
*1995*
…
“So what’s your story?”
I shrugged. “Cancer’s taken up most of it.”
“Same, I guess.”
I could tell Penelope wanted me to ask her the same thing, so I did.
“I had a great life back in Bristol,” Penelope sighed, leaning back in her bed, closing her eyes in memory.
“I was top of my class in secondary, helped my mum out in her store after lessons, had a man…”
“A man?”
“Oh, yes,” Penelope continued dreamily. “He had curly, red, hair, he was insanely smart, thought he knew everything about the world. He wanted to travel with me, you know. He was fascinated with facts and history.”
“What was his name?” I asked. On the surface, Penelope seemed as though she had the perfect life, and even in the hospital, she still did.
“Percy,” She answered, saying each syllable delicately, as though she would lose him otherwise.
“What happened to him?”
Penelope smirked. “Oh, we still write. He just doesn’t visit as much as he used to. He has a big parliament job now. I suppose it takes a lot of his time up.”
I lowered my head. “I’m really sorry.”
“Lavender,” Penelope continued, waving her hand through the air as though it was nothing, “I understand. He’s just busy. He still loves me.”
“He- He’s a bit young to have a big job in parliament, is he not?”
“I may have been exaggerating a bit,” Penelope corrected me, grimacing. “He’s a junior assistant to one of Prime Minister Thatcher’s employees.”
“Oh.” I didn’t follow politics very well, but I knew that Thatcher wasn’t well liked among most of Britain.
“I mean, I don’t agree with most of her policies, but,” Penelope shrugged, “It’s a job. And when we get married, we’re going to need a steady income.”
“Married?” I said incredulously.
Penelope waved her hands again. “You ask too many questions. I mean that we’re planning to get married when we grow up, not immediately. Now tell me about yourself. If we’re going to be roommates, I want to know you.”
I nodded slowly. Her words made sense.
“Er…” I began awkwardly. “My mum and dad are divorced. My life a month ago wasn’t as bright as yours was. And is, still. I certainly don’t have anyone like you have Percy.”
Penelope scoffed. “I mean, I had a lot of struggles, don’t get me wrong. It’s not easy being the only kid with cancer in your school. But I like to focus on the good things. And Percy… he’s just one part of it. And you think my life is still golden? I fucking hate this place.”
I innocently giggled at her language, but grew serious once again as I continued.
“But yeah, I really didn’t have the best life. People mostly ignored me back in primary and secondary. I didn’t have many friends. I mean, I had a little group, but they weren’t real. They ignored me a lot, too.”
“I’m sorry. That must’ve sucked.”
I shrugged. “It’s in the past.”
Penelope grinned. “Yeah, it is. And we have each other, right? There’s no need for fake friends.”
“Yeah, Penelope.” I nodded my head, relief flooding through me as I realized that this could be the beginning of something amazing.
Penelope waved her hand through the air. “Don’t call me Penelope. It’s so formal. I prefer Penny. It’s what Percy calls me, anyway, and I like it.”
I smile. “Sure, Penny. Speaking of Percy, do you keep his letters?”
Penny nodded in response, a guilty smile creeping on her face. “I keep all of them in my drawer,” she giggled. “Wanna see?”
“Of course, but isn’t that an invasion of his privacy?”
Penny shrugged. “I don’t care, and neither would he. And besides, why’d you ask if you didn’t want to see them?”
She had a point.
I nodded eagerly, and Penny pulled her bottom night table drawer open and pulled out a short stack of letters.
“Let see…” Penny muttered. “The last time he wrote to me was about a month ago, so my favorite one would be… here!”
Penny pulled out a wrinkled letter from near the bottom of the pile. “I have them organized by date,” She informed me proudly.
“I gave a short smile, unsure how to respond. Why was organization such an accomplishment? Meanwhile, Penny had opened the selected letter and began to read it out loud.
“Oh, dearest darling
How ever can I take comfort in our situation?
Why must you taunt me with your soft calligraphy
Fill my dreams with memories of you
The palaces your minds creates
When I can only long to see you in front of me, not as a ghost
Dearest Penny, I love you so
My love shines brightly from my fingertips
For I can think of nothing but your sweet lips.”
Penny looked up at me, tears in her eyes. “Isn't that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard?” She whispered quietly.
I nodded, my heart filling with sadness as I saw how torn apart she was by his letters. “When’s his next visit due?” I asked.
Penny shrugged. “He hasn’t written in a while.”
I patiently waited for her to explain further, but when no additional response came, I grinned and took the letter out of her hands, placing it back in the pile on her night table.
Suddenly, Penny stood up and began to unplug her chemo machines from the wall. “I need to use the loo,” she announced, her voice breaking on the last word.
I had never been good at this type of thing, had never even thought Penny had problems, so I couldn’t do anything but watch her trail sadly to the loo with her machines close behind, a short sniffle breaking out before the door had shut.
While Penny was in the loo, Nurse Pomfrey came to roll me to an MRI. Penny still hadn’t returned by the time Pomfrey had unhooked my machines, set up my IV, and wheeled me out the door. As I was slid into the tube, the noise of the magnetic machine pounded around me and vibrated through my body. When the scans started, I did not move. Even through the loud sounds of the tube, and swore I could still hear Penny’s voice breaking in my head.
I did not move.