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Jake called me while we were stopped for gas in Arkansas, on our way home from visiting Satan's hometown (this never happens).

My voice teacher has been fighting cancer for a few years now, and during my final year of school she missed a great many lessons because she felt too weak to come to work. I thought she was doing better by the time of graduation, though. And I didn't call her all summer, figuring I'd just drop by her office once the school year resumed, tell her about my students, ask how her summer went, tell her I was getting married (for God's sake, I didn't even call to tell her that). I can tell myself I was storing it up, to deliver it all in a bundle of excited little stories, like a list of accomplishments, What I Did For My Summer Vacation, but in the end, I was just lazy.

Well, it turns out she's taken a turn for the worse, and decided to stop treatment. And now time is running out.

I stood on the side of the highway, cell phone in my hand, and cried, listening to Jake tell me the details.

That's about all I have to say about the trip, for now. I'm going to bed.

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