JULY 21, 2008
"Mom, are you gonna die?" Tashell batted her wet eyelashes at her mother, her voice trembling as her father held her small hand in his.
"I am, Sugar-Bear, but not today." Her mother offered her a fragile smile. Her thin lips were coated with dry, white marks, causing them to wither to a crinkled version of what they used to be. The dryness made her smile seemed mechanical, as her illness made her mouth a lot more stiff.
"But I don't want you to die," Tashell sniffled, then flung her tiny body gently onto her mother's frail frame. Her mother was in pain but tried her best not to wince as she locked her bonelike fingers around Tashell's torso, giving her daughter a sweet, loving hug.
"Come now, Princess. Your mother needs rest," her father said softly as he lifted her into his arms with care. "Why don't you go sit with Sasha and let the grown-ups talk?" He kissed her forehead and gently set her on her feet. He stifled a sob as he watched the eleven-year-old scurry over to her best friend, Sasha, who was seated with her older brother, Adrian.
"Theo, it will be okay. Sharon and I are here for you," Allen said as he made eye contact with Theo through the rearview mirror.
"Whatever you guys need, don't be afraid to ask," Sharon added gently, settling into the seat beside Cindy, offering her presence as a quiet comfort.
"We tried our best to hide it from her for as long as possible, but with me being hooked up to this breathing machine..." Cindy scoffed and shook her head weakly. "And my deteriorating body... Tashell figured it out."
"Those two are remarkably smart for their own good," Sharon smiled. "You know, Sasha called out the mailman for going into Mrs. Roper's house when Mr. Roper was at work."
"Why is that amusing?" Allen asked, puzzled.
"Allen, dear, stick to being a sales agent, because you are slow as a snail." Sharon let out a small chuckle. "Mrs. Roper is screwing the mailman."
"What?" Allen yelped.
"Rumor has it that someone left Mr. Roper a pretty pink note on his car about his wife's weekly activities. The note was written in glitter ink, and the I's were dotted with hearts."
Allen almost swerved the RV off the road. That was Sasha's signature mark. "No!" he gasped.
"Damn!" Theo let out, while Cindy coughed out a quiet laugh.
"Yes, and our little Sasha kept telling me Mrs. Roper was doing bad things with the mailman. I thought she was just being a typical twelve-year-old. But after my hairdresser confirmed the rumors, it wasn't hard to piece things together," Sharon sighed.
"You think Sasha told Mr. Roper?" Allen glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised as he processed what his wife had just told him.
"Eyes on the road!" Sharon snapped, and Allen quickly fixed his gaze on the highway ahead. "Yes. Our daughter is a quick study, I tell ya."
"Hmm," Allen hummed as he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "I'll have to keep that in mind."
"That's why I know Tashell will be in good hands when I'm gone," Cindy said with a sad smile as she watched the two girls through the window. "Not only will she have her father and you guys, but Sasha is so protective of her. They have a bond as close as sisters."
"Just like the one we have," Sharon smiled as she rested a sweet kiss on Cindy's forehead.
******
"Sasha, my mom is gonna die," Tashell whispered, her voice cracking as she sat beside her best friend.
"I'm sorry. If I could kill Death, I would," Sasha said softly and wrapped her arms around Tashell.
"You can't kill Death, stupid," Adrian muttered from across the RV.
"I know that. That's why I said if I could," Sasha rolled her eyes.
Tashell rested her head on Sasha's shoulder, and Sasha began singing their favorite song, one they always used to hum while braiding each other's hair or jumping rope in the schoolyard.
Adrian opened the nearby window, letting the hot, sticky Georgia air flow into the RV. It smelled like red clay and pine trees. The RV began to slow as it took a sharp left turn. "Woah! We're here!" he beamed as the large vehicle pulled up to the rustic sign that read Camp Beaver Lake.
"Girls, come with me," Sharon said, motioning to Sasha and Tashell as she held each of their hands. "Adrian, help your father with the bags."
"But Mom—" he whined.
"No buts, mister. You need to start doing chores now. You're fourteen," Sharon scolded him as she hopped out of the RV with the girls.
Camp Beaver Lake was a family campground and hunting lodge tucked deep in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. The land was wide and surrounded by rolling green hills that stretched endlessly in every direction.
Sasha and Tashell's smiles widened with excitement as their eyes soaked in the beauty of the place. Golden bars of sunlight snaked through the towering oak and elm trees, casting dappled shadows across the forest floor.
The breeze greeted them like an old friend, brushing their cheeks and tugging gently on the hems of their matching pink floral dresses. The air was fresh and earthy, carrying the smell of pine, wet leaves, and distant campfire smoke while birds chirped in harmony from the tree branches above.
The main office building stood proudly in the center of the property, surrounded by a manicured field of bright green grass. Six small log cabins sat at the corner of the campgrounds, evenly spaced and perfectly aligned on each side of the office. Each cabin was painted the same warm brown and varnished to a glossy perfection that shimmered under the afternoon sun.
Sasha inhaled deeply and grinned. "This is awesome," she said, then slipped from her mother's grasp and bolted ahead. "Come on, Tashell!"
Tashell glanced up at Sharon with wide eyes. Sharon gave her a warning look and wagged a finger. "Okay, but you girls stay out of trouble, and stay where I can see you!"
Tashell nodded, then dashed after Sasha, who grabbed her hand. Together, they ran around the back of the building, down a small slope covered in grass and wildflowers, until they reached a trickling stream.
"Sasha, no!" Tashell protested nervously, tugging her hand back, but Sasha pulled her along before Sharon even had time to realize what happened.
"Girls!" Sharon shouted from behind, but their laughter and high-pitched giggles echoed through the trees, drowning out her frantic yells.