Michael looked at the calendar hanging up in his English class with dread.
Mrs. Brink, who took any excuse to host a party in class, had placed a great big green clover over St. Patrick’s Day, which was only a few short days away.
Michael used to love all the traditions: wearing all green, trying to convince the girls to kiss him for Irish-good-luck, eating corned beef and cabbage with his family for dinner, sneaking a sip of his dad’s Guinness with his brother while his parents entertained guests for their Drunken Leprechaun Party. His grandparents on both sides had immigrated to the United States when they were younger, so his whole family had been crazy about the celebration.
But not anymore.
This year, St. Patty’s marked the first anniversary of the death of his big brother, Todd, who died from a rare form of leukemia. Todd had been seventeen when he died, after battling the cancer in his bloodstream for three years. Three whole years, that’s how long Michael had held hope, prayed, prayed more, and wished his brother wouldn’t be sick.
But it didn’t work.
Todd had been in the hospital since shortly after Christmas, with one infection right after the other. His chemo hadn’t worked and the disease was closing in on Michael’s brother. His brother. The one Michael used to play trucks with in the sandbox. The one that he shared a tent with and went camping out in the backyard. The one his little kid self would creep into bed with when he wanted to have a slumber party.
This year, he didn’t know how he’d handle the shamrocks and the Drunken Leprechaun guests. Before last year, their mother always made a big breakfast. He would race Todd downstairs in the morning to see who could get the biggest four-leaf pancake.
In their lunch bags, there were usually big hunks of chocolate potato cake, freshly made the day before. One year, his mom even bought green paper bags and themed the whole meal in different verdant shades. Yeah, he didn’t like that so much because all of his friends teased him. But whatever.
He wasn’t in the mood for celebrating this year. He didn’t know if St. Patrick’s Day would be the same for him again. Ever.
Mrs. Brink interrupted his thoughts as she announced they could have a party next week. Everyone could bring snacks to share with the class if they wanted to.
Great, he thought. Everybody will want to party but me.
Maybe he would ask his mom if he could skip school for the day. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t understand; she missed Todd as much, maybe even more than Michael, if that was possible. They could just hang out together…
“Hey, Mikey!” His buddy, Ryan, sat down in the seat beside his as their classmates began discussing who would bring what and if they wanted to decorate. “What are you going to bring next week?”
Michael shrugged. He didn’t really want to talk about it.
“I don’t know if I’ll be here,” he said quietly.
“Why wouldn’t you–” Ryan stopped himself from continuing. “Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry, bro. I’d forgot what day it was.”
Michael nodded. His friends knew Todd, too. He was only two years younger, so Todd never had any problem hanging with his friends or Michael’s.
He stayed in his seat and watched everyone else chatting. With five minutes left before the bell rang, Michael packed up to head to his sixth period class. It was Algebra II, way down in the Math and Science wing. Far enough away not to be suspicious if he left to hit his locker early.
As he stepped out into the hallway, a voice behind him pulled him out of his introspection.
“You doing alright today, Michael?” Mrs. Brink called. “You haven’t seemed like yourself for a while.”
Great. He didn’t want to talk to her about Todd. He was afraid he might cry or do something where everybody would look at him.
He steadied his nerves and shrugged.
“Yeah. Just thinking a lot,” he replied. He hoped he was convincing enough so she would leave him alone.
She didn’t stop watching him. He felt her waiting for him to say something more, but he kept his lips sealed tight.
He didn’t want to talk about Todd, St. Patrick’s Day or anything else. He just wanted to fast forward to April where he wouldn’t have to remember the pain of the funeral. Or watching his mom and dad clean out Todd’s room. Or running home to tell his brother something and remembering he was gone.
Mrs. Brink said quietly, “I know it’s coming up on Todd’s one year anniversary.”
Michael’s stomach clenched.
“He was always one of my favorite students. If you ever want to talk about something,” she said, “come see me anytime.”
Luckily, Mrs. Brink turned away and didn’t say anything more.
Michael let out a deep sigh and headed off for his locker.
He willed the clock to fast forward and get him out of school for good today. One more class and he could go home. Then he could sit in his room and stare at the walls and be all by himself. Then it would be one day closer to the anniversary. One more day closer to getting past it.
Of course, then his mom would get home from work. She’d ask him the same thing. Why did everyone think talking about Todd’s death was going to make him feel better? It just made him feel worse!
The loss of his brother had changed Michael more than he could believe. Who knew there would be this gaping hole in his chest, especially towards the end when they knew there was nothing the doctors could do to save his brother’s life?
At his locker, he switched books before heading to his last class.
“Hey, Mike!”
His friend Jake walked up next to him on the way to class. They sat next to each other in algebra and were partners in science lab.
“Hey.”
Michael knew that Jake, Ryan and the rest of the guys had gone to Todd’s wake and came to the service and did all that. But they weren’t affected like Michael was. He didn’t think anyone could relate to how he felt. The anniversary coming up only reminded him of how alone he was. That it fell on a day that was normally so much fun made it that much more cruel.
Sure, he still had his mom and dad, the rest of his family, and his friends. He just didn’t feel like celebrating like he used to.
Jake asked, “Did you study for the quiz?”
“A little,” Michael lied.
“I need to get an ‘A’ on it or else I won’t be eligible for basketball next week. My dad will kill me,” Jake said as they walked through the doors together.
Michael sat down in his desk. His grades were all right, but he wasn’t playing basketball this year. He wasn’t in the mood to practice and compete.
The bell signaled the start of class. Mrs. Hampton passed out the quiz right away, amidst the groans of the students.
“Now, you all knew this was coming,” she said in a singsong voice.
“We hoped you would forget,” said someone from the back. Everyone laughed as they took a paper from the top of the stack and passed them back.
Michael stared at the numbers in front of him.
He used to like math. Working out the numbers made him feel good, like he could master some problem that no one else could.
Todd also liked math. He was a whiz before he had to quit school and get a tutor in at home.
He tapped his pencil near the first question. Did he remember learning how to do this kind of equation?
Without warning, he picked up his pencil and started working out the numbers underneath it.
Michael’s pencil kept flying over the problems, answering them one by one, and never having a problem with any of the calculations.
“This is weird,” he said to himself.
He heard a voice inside his head say, “Dude… Relax.”
It sounded eerily like Todd.
Michael tried to lay the pencil down, but it kept going.
“Come on, bro,” the voice said again. “I miss doing math. Hey, I miss doing anything.”
Michael shook his head and let the pencil ride. He felt warm all over, like his brother’s presence was really surrounding him and helping him with the math quiz.
He snickered at the thought of his brother actually being in his head. Mrs. Hampton looked over at the noise, but Michael’s pencil kept scribbling.
Michael knew then that, even though his brother was gone from the physical world, his presence was all around him. The physical loss was significant, but maybe that was the only loss Michael had to deal with.
Michael walked up to Mrs. Hampton’s desk to turn in his paper. He had a smile on his face, the first smile in months.