Part 2A Heartbeat Away

When I got home, my dad was sitting at the door, a cheap cigarette in his mouth, his face full of sorrow.

My mom wasn't there.

He handed me a report saying my mom had breast cancer.

My dad took a hard drag on his cigarette and said, "The treatment for breast cancer costs tens of thousands. Your mom and I discussed it... we won't treat it."

"Your mom said she wants to eat the braised ribs I make. You go buy some, and I'll pick your mom up later."

I didn't believe it. I flipped through the report repeatedly, my voice trembling, "Is it confirmed? There are many misdiagnoses for this kind of thing. I'll take mom to check again tomorrow. This must be a misdiagnosis..."

I looked at my dad stubbornly.

My dad's eyes were red. He just looked at me and didn't speak.

At that moment, my tears flowed down uncontrollably.

Finally, I cried and said, "I won't go to school anymore. Let's treat mom's illness."

My dad lowered his head.

I knew my dad was no less sad than I was.

My dad was disabled in his right leg. At that time, only my mom was willing to be with him, didn't despise him, and always encouraged him.

Although our family was poor, my dad and mom were very loving.

In middle school, classmates started to have their own beliefs.

I asked my dad, "Dad, what's your belief?"

My dad didn't understand what belief meant, so I explained it to him briefly.

He scratched his head embarrassedly and said, "My belief is your mom."

Later...

I also had my belief.

I wanted to grow up, make money, and take my dad and mom to see the world.

Now my dad's belief has collapsed.

So has mine.

I held my dad's hand and said to myself, "I won't study anymore. I'll go to work. Let's go to the big city to treat mom's illness."

My dad smoked and didn't speak.

But I had already decided.

I asked my dad to pick up my mom, then packed up to go to the city.

I went back to school myself.