John remembered the conversation, at breakfast, two mornings before. Judd and Elise told him how one of Genieve’s friends had stopped by to visit, found her sitting on the floor of her living room, where she had fallen three days before. She was in such pain, she couldn’t reach the telephone to call for help. At the Emergency Room, the doctor diagnosed Terminal Lung Cancer, a prognosis that was not surprising considering Genčve chain-smoked three packs-a-day for the last fifty years.

He reached his mom’s house at 2:30 AM and passed out, after telling her to get her things packed, to be ready to go when he woke up. John woke four hours later, at 6:30 AM, was drinking a cup of strong coffee, was starting to wake when he realized his mom wasn’t putting stuff in the car, she was reading a paper. He snapped instantly awake and said, “What the hell are you doing?”

He was informed that they were going to take the train down and she was looking at the schedule.

“Like hell!” he roared. “Get your stuff in the car now!” Even with his constant prodding it still took her an hour and a half to get her things out to the the car. He even managed to eat something. He watched her while he ate toast, before they left. As they were leaving Merced, John's Mom wanted to go back and do something else.

“It ain’t gonna’ happen,” John said as they zoomed out of town heading south.

John hauled ass on Highway 99, driving between 75 and 80. His Mom kept giving him grief about driving too fast until finally, John erupted.

"Put-a-lid on it. If you’d been ready to leave at 6:30 I wouldn’t have to drive so fast, but you weren’t ready to go until 8 AM, so just be quiet."

They stopped for gas and a hurried breakfast in Bakersfield. John told his mom he would really appreciate her not telling him how to drive, that time was really important. After they embarked, he kept hearing her gasp, but she kept her opinions to herself. They sailed up the Grapevine, staying in the left lane. He didn’t have a radar detector, was passing most traffic, but was occasionally passed by other cars. He would accelerate to follow them, figuring nothing would come up from behind without him seeing it and hoping if the car they were following got pulled over, he would have time to slow down. There were wind blown clouds scudding across the sky so he figured he didn't have to worry about cops in airplanes.

They pulled up at Judd and Elise’s house about 1 PM. It was 325 miles to Huntington Beach from Merced, but John had driven fast.

Judd drove John and his mom to the convalescent hospital Genieve was in. Her room was at the back of the hospital. The smells and noises they experienced walking back there were sobering.

The hospital smelled like a dirty diaper that should have been changed hours ago. There were moans and groans coming from most doorways and rooms. This woman kept shouting, “I don’t want to live. Please kill me,” and breaking into sobs - John shuddered as he walked by her doorway. Judd said nothing. They arrived at Genieve’s door, looked at each other, nodded, went in.

The framed print of the dolphins John had given her for Christmas hung over her bed. Genieve's eyes were closed, she kept moaning. The nurses moved her a little, the smallest amount possible, to prevent bedsores. Genieve started sobbing, the intensity of her moans increased.

John's mom was in shock, not sure of what to do or say. His eyes kept going to the print of the dolphins, seeing them rising towards the surface, sunlight in patterns on their backs and sides. He stared trying to figure out what the artist had intended. When he had first seen it, at the Greenpeace store in Santa Cruz, he thought it was a mother and her calf rising to the surface. Now he saw the unequal sizes as being a male/female pair with the male being the smaller of the two. He pondered this . . .

“Genieve, John and Jackie have come to see you,” Judd said. He looked exhausted and sad. One of the nurses came back to give her a sponge bath. Every time she touched Genieve, Genieve would start crying. It was too painful to watch.

"Genieve, do you know that Jackie and John have come to see you?" Judd tried.

Genieve managed to nod yes, her eyes closed, between her sobs of pain. Judd looked at John, John jerked his head towards the door.

The drive back to the Taylor’s house was quiet. Judd drove saying nothing. John was sitting in the front seat, trying to think about what he had just experienced, but nothing could have prepared him. He was staring out the windshield, remembering how awful he felt, seeing his aunt in that horrible place, his feelings of numbness, shock and helplessness.

Then Judd broke the silence.

“If I am ever diagnosed with something like that,” he said matter-of-factly, “I’ll take cyanide.”

“Me too,” John responded. His mom was silent, He didn’t think she heard.

Back at the Taylor’s, the television had the latest updates on murders, rapes, muggings and other mayhem. John turned it off. They had a quiet dinner. John even ate some meat (He was vegetarian, but didn’t want to offend Elise by refusing the food she offered). The phone rang. Elise answered, motioned to Judd, handed it to him and left the room. Jud listened and then put the receiver back down.

“That was the hospital,” he said walking for the doorway Elise had vanished into. “Genieve died about ten minutes ago, “ he said, voice starting to break. He pulled the door closed, behind him, was gone. Jud and Elise had known Genieve for more then 30 years and to have her die so suddenly and horribly was mind-boggling.

Breakfast, the next day, was a somber affair. John had eaten some burned pancakes, but didn’t complain. He even used the offered soy milk in his coffee, sipping it in silence, staring out the window, watching the cars drive by. Elise wanted to know what John and his mom were going to do that afternoon, did they have any plans? The enormity of what had happened was still sinking in. John focused back inside the room.

“We’re going up too Sylmar, to see my cousin,“ John responded. “You know, the one with one leg shorter then the other.”

“Oh,” said Elise. “Who is that?”

“Aileen,” John said with a straight face.

Elise froze, stared at him, her mouth fell open.