May 23, 2004
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin
Rose poked idly at the coals in the barbecue grill at their camping space. With no money from their second performance in the bar, and no new gigs forthcoming, they had been forced to leave the motel and find a free campground. They had been there for most of the past week, waiting for Tim to be released from the hospital so that they could move on.
The four healthy members of the band had tried to get new singing engagements, but once word had spread of the brawl, it became impossible. Rose and Daffodil had provided for the four of them for the most part, wrinkling their noses as they raided the dumpster behind a supermarket and buying out-of-date and otherwise unsalable items.
Even after several days had passed, Angel still refused to speak to Rose, and he took the food that she and Daffodil provided grudgingly. Rose was tired of him and tired of his attitude, and only Daffodil’s pleading kept her from walking away.
There had been a subtle change in the relationship between Rose and Daffodil since the night that Rose had come crying into the bar, overwhelmed with guilt because of her perceived role in Jack’s death. They hadn’t talked about it much—Rose didn’t want to be reminded—but they both knew that something had changed. They were closer somehow, although they had been good friends from the start.
Rose tossed aside the stick and abandoned the grill. Still bored, she settled herself down in the shade of a large tree and waited for the others to return.
Tim was finally being released from the hospital today. They had visited him every day, although Rose had kept her distance from him, still upset about how he had acted the night they had dragged him out of the bar and taken him to the hospital.
Rose leaned her head back against the trunk of the tree, thinking. It had been a little over a year since she had left home, but so much had happened, things she could never have imagined even then. Who would have thought that she would join a traveling band, or have a dangerous affair with an AIDS-stricken man, or become friends with someone like Daffodil? Her life was so different from what she had thought it would be when she was engaged to Cal, and life had taken her in some strange directions.
Briefly, she wondered where her life was taking her, and what it would have been like if things had been different, if the earthquake had never happened or if Jack had survived his injuries. Closing her eyes, she acknowledged that there really wasn’t much use in thinking about it—what had happened was in the past, and the future was a blank slate. But she couldn’t help but wonder.
Rose opened her eyes as the van pulled into the campsite, Tim in the very back. She stood slowly, walking towards it. From the way Tim had looked, she thought that it might be a good idea to wait a few days more before moving on.
Daffodil got out of the van, waving to Rose and hurrying around the back to help Tim out. Rose followed her, shocked when she saw Tim.
He looked worse than he had when they had dragged him from the bar and insisted upon taking him to the hospital. He was even thinner and paler than before, and he still coughed violently as Daffodil helped him out. Rose wondered if he should have stayed in the hospital longer, but she knew that there was very little money, and that charity only went so far.
He leaned heavily on Daffodil as she moved him towards the tent that Rose had set up while the others were gone. Rose hurried to his other side, ignoring his protests as she helped them along. No one would share a tent with him; the tuberculosis was far too contagious, and they would be lucky if none of them caught it.
Daffodil helped Tim to lie down, then crouched down beside him, making sure he was comfortable, or as comfortable as he could be under the circumstances.
"We’re going to wait another three days before we move on," she told him, handing him a bottle of water. "After that, we’re going back to Texas first thing. There’s no way you can travel anymore."
"Those doctors don’t know what they’re talking about," Tim rasped, coughing violently.
"Yes, they do," Daffodil replied, taking his prescriptions out of her pocket and tucking them into his duffel bag. "I may not be a doctor, but I can see that."
"I’ll be fine," he insisted. "A little rest, some medicine…we’ll be touring again in no time."
Daffodil shook her head, but knowing that nothing that she said would convince him, she shrugged and crawled out of the tent to where Rose was waiting. Gesturing to her, they walked out of earshot and sat down.
"How is he?" Rose asked. In spite of her irritation with him, she was concerned, and it didn’t take a doctor to know that he wasn’t doing well.
Daffodil shook her head. "Not well. The doctors don’t think he has much time left. AIDS can take years to kill, but he hasn’t taken the medicines that can prolong a person’s life, and it’s too late for them to do much good now. Tuberculosis can also linger for a long time, but when you mix the weak immune system of an AIDS patient with untreated tuberculosis—not to mention the fact that he refuses to stop smoking—you have a deadly combination. His lungs are about shot, and they say that he also has Kaposi’s sarcoma, which is fairly common in AIDS patients and pretty rare in everyone else."
Rose nodded, knowing what she was talking about. Her father hadn’t ever had Kaposi’s sarcoma, but she had heard of it. "How long do they think he has?"
"One to three months, probably—if he keeps taking his medicine, which I can’t guarantee. He’s in denial about it, and might stop taking it for that reason."
Rose nodded again, understanding that, too. It’s sad, she thought, how much I know about AIDS from personal experience. She had lost her father to the disease, and soon she would lose a friend, too. She was just lucky that she hadn’t caught it when she’d had her affair with Tim.
*****
Early in the evening, Rose was bringing some dinner to Tim when she stopped outside his tent, hearing him talking to Jim and Angel inside.
She was about to crawl inside when she heard her name mentioned, and stopped, wondering what they were talking about.
"You knew, Tim? You knew it when you took up with Rose?" Jim’s voice could be heard clearly through the thin tent fabric.
What did he know? Rose wondered, leaning closer to hear better.
"Hey, I protected her. We always used a condom."
"You know they don’t always work. She’s lucky she’s not sick, too." Angel’s voice rang out this time.
Rose’s hands tightened on the plate. She had a sick, sinking feeling that she knew what they were saying.
Jim’s next words confirmed it. "You are such a shithead, Tim. Would you even have cared if she’d gotten sick? You could have killed her."
"I didn’t know for sure."
"So it was okay to have sex with her, knowing that you might have AIDS, knowing how it’s spread and what it does?"
Rose had heard enough. Furious, she barged into the tent, dumping the plate of food in Tim’s lap. "You son a bitch!" she cried, her voice shrill with anger.
Tim stared at her, startled by her outburst. Jim and Angel stared at her, too, then scrambled out of the tent, leaving Tim and Rose alone.
"Rose…"
"Goddammit, Tim! I trusted you, and you…you couldn’t have cared less! I was just a good lay for you—you sick bastard!"
"Rose, I didn’t know!"
"You suspected! That’s why you apologized to me the day you were diagnosed, isn’t it? Because you knew there was a possibility that you had AIDS when you took up with me…and you never told me. I would never have suspected if Daffodil hadn’t mentioned the possibility to me!"
"Then it’s your own fault for not paying more attention, isn’t it? Your father of died of AIDS, Rose. You should know what to look for!"
"You’re the one who’s sick, not me! And I was the one who insisted that we always use a condom. You gladly would have gone without if I’d let you! Thank God I was afraid of getting pregnant—it saved my life!"
Rose gave him a shove, knocking him down against his sleeping bag. "I hate you, you miserable son of a bitch! You’re worse than my ex-fiancé ever was. At least with him I had no illusions!"
She backed out of the tent, leaving a stunned Tim staring after her, and stalked to the tent she shared with Daffodil. Shaking with anger, she grabbed her backpack and began to pack her things.
Daffodil appeared at the entrance a moment later. "Rose! What are you doing?"
"I’m leaving, Daffodil. I’m sure you heard what went on in there."
"I think the whole campground heard. Rose, it’s almost dark. Where are you going to go?"
"I don’t know, but I’m not staying here. If I have to stay around that son of a bitch any longer, I’ll kill him. Never mind that he’s dying—I’ll kill him myself." She stopped as Daffodil crawled into the tent and snatched the backpack away from her. "Daffodil, give me back my bag!"
"I’m going with you."
"What?"
"I’m going with you. This band has had it, Rose. You were right. And there’s no way that Tim can hold it together—he’ll be lucky to live another month or two. Jim and Angel can take care of themselves—especially if Angel keeps Jim on the straight and narrow—and as to what Tim will do…who knows? It would be best if he went back to his family, but you know how stubborn he is."
"He’s an idiot, like all men!"
"Even your Jack?"
"Well…only sometimes. But the rest…Daffodil, I hate men! I just can’t win. My ex-fiancé was an abusive bastard…Tim cared only about his own pleasure…Jack was the only one I could really trust. And he’s dead! I’ve had it! I’m through with men!"
"Then it’s just the two of us, I guess. If you want me along."
Rose looked at Daffodil, her eyes wide. "Of course I want you along! I’d rather be with you than any of…them!" She gestured to the other tents in their campsite.
"Where should we go?"
"Damned if I know."
"Let’s decide in the morning, then. Shall we?"
"I’m not spending another night with them."
"Okay, but where can we go now?"
"Somewhere else."
"Where?"
"I don’t know!"
Daffodil sat on her sleeping bag, still not giving Rose her backpack. "Maybe we should just give them the silent treatment for now."
Rose started to argue, then threw her hands up in the air, admitting defeat. "You’re right. It’s dark, we’re almost out of money, we don’t know where else to go…I guess we might as well stay here tonight. But first thing tomorrow, we’re out of here!"
"Right! We’ll hit the road again. Go wherever the wind takes us."
"Yeah. And we’ll avoid…them!"
"Daffodil and Rose against the world."
"And men!"
"Right."