“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Elton John!”

Sheri cheered as wildly as the rest of the crowd as Sir Elton strode onto the stage; Joey was afraid the girl would tumble right out of her wheelchair. At the same time, the undiluted excitement on the girl’s face pleased him to no end. 

If anything could gratify Joey more, it was seeing Chris and Justin along with Lance, Tami, and Ann. Justin had been kind enough to sit with Tami, who kept her eyes more on him than on Sir Elton, and Chris sat quite contentedly on Sheri’s other side.

If only JC had been there, everything would have been perfect. 

Though Joey tried not to think too much about JC tonight, a part of him couldn’t stop wondering how much longer it would take—or what it would take—to bring JC around. While he and JC had stumbled upon each other a few times that week, they were never together for more than a minute, and neither of them said anything—if only because Joey had no idea what to say or how to say it. Even without words, JC’s face sported the oddest expressions, as if he seesawed between wanting to cry and wanting to maul something.

At least Chris and Justin were doing better, and maybe that much would have to suffice. 

Even now, Joey wasn’t sure just how comfortable his mates were around Sheri, but they behaved as agreeably as anyone could hope for. Sheri, naturally, treated both Justin and Chris as if nothing unpleasant ever came about in the first place. Chris had even volunteered to chauffeur the whole gang to Sir Elton’s show, and when they reached the amphitheater, Justin guided Sheri’s wheelchair through the crazy throng and made sure she was good and comfortable before joining Tami.

They had been too late for front-row seats, but they’d managed to nab third-row, so they could still see and hear the entire performance as well as anybody. Even had they been stuck at the very back of the stadium, Sheri wouldn’t have cared. She listened raptly to “Your Song,” “Tiny Dancer,” and “Candle in the Wind,” and sang her heart out to “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,” “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting,” and “Crocodile Rock.” Lance, Justin, Chris, and Tami joined in, and Joey couldn’t resist adding his voice, too. Even Ann mouthed a few lyrics here and there. 

Joey had idolized Sir Elton for years; he was as intimate with the man’s songs as with his own. Yet, somehow, tonight’s songs spoke to him in a way they never had before. Seeing Sir Elton under the colored lights, seeing how much heart and soul the man poured into his piano as well as his singing, also took on a new meaning. Joey couldn’t explain it, but there was no denying the difference.

As Sir Elton played his final song for that evening, Joey felt an unexpected sting in his eyes and throat, and as he glanced sideways at Sheri, he sensed this song fit them both to a tee: 

“I can’t light no more of your darkness.
All my pictures
Seem to fade to black and white.

“Too late
To save myself from falling.
I took a chance,
And changed your way of life.
But you misread
My meaning when I met you;
Closed the door,
And left me blinded by the light.

“Don’t let the sun go down on me.
Although I searched myself,
It’s always someone else I see.
I’d just allow a fragment of your life
To wander free,
But losing everything
Is like the sun going down on me.

“I can’t find
Oh, the right romantic line;
But see me once,
And see the way I feel.
Don’t discard me
Just because you think I mean you harm.
But these cuts I have,
Oh, they need love to help them heal.

“Don’t let the sun go down on me.
Although I searched myself,
It’s always someone else I see.
I’d just allow a fragment of your life
To wander free,
But losing everything
Is like the sun going down on me.

“Don’t let the sun go down on me.
Although I searched myself,
It’s always someone else I see.
I’d just allow a fragment of your life
To wander free,
But losing everything
Is like the sun going down on me.”

When it was finally over, and the gang was sitting in the peace and quiet of a doughnut shop with fresh doughnuts and steaming chocolate, Sheri’s spirits continued to ride high, even as she slouched in her wheelchair, held one hand to her throat, and said in a husky voice, “I may never talk properly again after this.”

“I may never hear properly again after this,” said Chris dryly as he massaged his ears. “And I thought our fans had unmatched lung capacity.” 

“Well, it was for a worthy cause,” Lance said, holding his Styrofoam cup high above the table. “Here’s to Sir Elton, one of the most amazing, gifted men who ever lived or will ever live again.”

“Hear, hear,” said Justin, raising his own cup and bumping it against Lance’s. 

Holding up his doughnut, Chris added with an authentic smile, “And here’s to Sheri, without whom this evening wouldn’t be possible.”

Everyone readily lifted their doughnuts in unison while Sheri blushed furiously all over. 

Joey never would have believed a doughnut could taste so divine. His cup of chocolate also felt wonderful against his hands, which felt cold for some strange reason.

Much as he dreaded the end of this night, he looked forward to getting home and crashing in bed. He wouldn’t admit it to the others, but he was dead tired; it took almost everything he had just to sit upright in that booth. He was also grateful that someone else would be the designated driver because he knew there was no way he could handle a car tonight.

On the way to the parking lot, Joey made such a serious stumble that Lance had to grab him to save him from the pavement. Only Chris saw this happen, and he asked anxiously, “Are you okay, Joey?”

“I’m fine,” Joey muttered, thinking at the same time, Man, this chemo stuff really reduces you to a wet mop.

Once he was settled in the van, he tilted his seat as far back as he could, and he was only half-aware of Sheri and her family getting out. He heard Tami ask, “Is he okay?” 

“The night must have taken a lot out of him,” said Justin. “I know I’m bushed.”

“Me too,” said Sheri between heavy yawns. “I’m definitely gonna sleep well tonight.”

When Joey was alone with his mates, he asked, “Why is it so cold in here, guys?”

“The AC’s barely on, Joe,” said Lance, sounding puzzled.

“Well, turn it off. I’m freezing.”

“How can you be?” asked Justin in thorough bewilderment. “I’m working up a sweat over here!”

“Are you okay?” Chris asked again.

Joey closed his eyes. His throat seemed on fire, and his head felt as if someone were bashing it continually with a hammer.

“Joey?” Chris’s voice sounded like it came from the end of a long tunnel.

“Joey?” Now Lance sounded scared.

Joey felt a hand on his face, and he heard Chris cry out, “Guys, he’s burning up!”

“Oh, no!” Lance wailed. 

Justin urged, “We gotta get him to the hospital right now! Give her the gas, Chris!”

The word “hospital” got a definite reaction from Joey. He stirred in his seat and moaned, with his eyes half-open, “No, guys, wait…”

But Chris was already shifting gears, and as he put on as much speed as was deemed legal, he said, “Sorry, buddy; no can do!”