Chapter Five: Thin Men Can Hide Behind Doors
JC was not waiting for me. Under different circumstances this would have lead to the happy dance of joy. Unfortunately someone else was in her place.
“Nick.”
“KEVIN!” Thin men can hide behind doors, and I don’t think that’s fair.
“I just met JC in the hallway. She had some interesting things to say.”
“Really?” Excuse me while I act innocent. I figure at the most I only have six, eight months tops in which people will still buy that. Of course, Kevin never had. So... “Did she mention the burrito?” Good, he looked confused.
“The burrito?” Act fast, act blond, and disarm.
“And the Chihuahua?”
“The ... what the hell are you talking about?”
“And the rubber duckie?” That would have stopped most people cold.
“Nick, shut the hell up.” Kevin is no AJ. “Listen, I mean it.” He did. He also shoved me back on the bed. “JC told me enough ...” He glanced around the room for a minute as if looking for attacking, burrito eating, Chihuahuas, but then he got right back to the point. When Kevin has a point there is just no swaying him. “...she told me you’ve been lying to her, in your sessions, about lots of stuff. Nick ... damn it Nick, look at me.”
“But the carpet has a stain in the shape of Elvis!” Maybe I shouldn’t do that “off the chest” thing with Kevin.
“Nick! I swear to God ...” And for a few minutes he did. Or maybe it was at me, it was difficult to tell. “Nick, I mean it. NO MORE JOKES. No more of your big kid shit. This is serious!”
“Kevin, you don’t understand...”
“The hell I don’t! You can’t take anything seriously, can you? Not even your health. Well, you know what Nick? That sucks. It really does. And you know what else? Well, do you?”
“NO!”
“You ... are ... a ... shit.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You are a pile of shit.”
“Shut up! You can’t talk to me that way!”
“The hell I can’t!”
“Get away from me!” I jumped up with the intent of shoving him aside and making for the door, but Kevin was ready for me.
“Sit the hell down!” He shoved me back on the bed, hard. Then he leaned over and planted his hands on my arms, sat on my chest, and penned me there. Thank God I had dressed before coming out. Or someone else might have thought I was coming out in an entirely different way. “You are going to listen, you little jerk!”
“Shut up! You have no right..”
“I have every right! Because you are so stupid, so dumb, so.... "
I’d had enough. They say that under extreme circumstances a person can call on inhuman strength, like a mother lifting a car off her trapped child. I will attribute my next move to that, which was to jerk my right arm from Kevin’s grasp, and hit him with enough force to knock him on his backside on the floor.
He looked stunned for a moment, but I wasn’t through. I wasn’t going to be talked to like that, not about this. I stood up, towering over him, ready to make my stand, ready to show him who was boss of his own life - once and for all - opened my mouth to tell him so ... and promptly doubled over in pain and threw up. Not on Kevin. I’m older, I do get some things right.
“Nick, shit. Here, let me ...”
“Don’t.” It sounded somewhere between a gasp and a groan, but I was determined to get to the bathroom by myself. My legs had other plans, and frankly I’m dammed tired of all my body parts thinking they are in charge.
“Nick!” Kevin hates it when I fall down without a stupid reason because he has no reason to make fun of me in front of twenty witnesses. “Baby...”
Oh Lord. There we go with that baby shit again. And have you ever noticed how bad baby shit stinks? Worse than Brain’s feet, that’s how bad. Damn stuff’s toxic. Makes you wonder what goes in that food.
This lovely train of thought occupied me while Kevin got me off the floor, helped me clean up, tucked me in bed (sigh), and called the hotel physician. Damn man thinks he runs my life. Must be in with my legs.
Twenty minutes later, most of that occupied with Kevin’s graphic description of my stomach blow (I don’t think the doctor needed quite that much information. I believe ULCER would have done the trick.) and the doctor “hum” ing and poking. As it turns out, I had the flu. The flu. Can you believe it?
“He needs fluids and bed rest.” I’m in bed, and I just had a bath (two of them, if you’re counting) in water. Does that count for the fluid?
“Does taking a bath count for the fluid?” This was not my fault. I had a fever of 102 and an ulcer. So there.
“Nick, will you ... just stay there a minute, OK?” Kevin walked the doctor to the door. I was hoping he would make a grand exit. A minor exit, hell any kind of exit. But it was not to be. He returned and called room service, I guess for liquids. Or a hacksaw. Whichever.
“Nick, I wanna talk to you.”
“No.” I’m sick. I don’t have to have any conversation I don’t want to. “I don’t wanna talk.”
“You don’t have to talk. Just listen, and stop making that face!”
“You’re not my mother!” I sort of hoped the female reference would stop him, but he just rolled his eyes.
“Nick. Listen, I mean it.” He sat on the edge of my bed, which I must admit impressed me. I mean this was MY room, and you know how clean it tends to be - not. Also, I had hurled in his presence, quite close to him. I could have a repeat performance.
My contemplation’s and Kevin’s conversation were interrupted by housekeeping. They were there to clean the vomit, an for your information, they DO wear rubber gloves. I’m so impressed. And for some insane reason, happy. Must be the flu.
“Thank you.” Kevin sure was polite to the rubber-gloved guys with the vomit cleaning supplies. With me around it pays. “Now...” Well, hell. I was sort of hoping he’d forget I was here. Maybe if I pull the blanket over my head.. “Nick, come out of there.” He yanked my covers to my waist. “Now listen, I’m not mad, I shouldn’t have been in the first place. OK?”
“Really?”
“Yea, really. I know what’s going on with you and JC.”
“Kevin, you have no idea. But if you are planning on spending any time at all in her presence, may I suggest stapling your clothes on? Or nailing your doors shut?”
“Nick, don’t be a freak now.”
“I’m not being a freak! She keeps...”
“Acting crazy?” Wow. Kevin was ... whatever those people are who can read minds! “Did it ever occur to you that she is REACTING according to what you are doing? And saying?” Excuse me? “Maybe the bull you’ve been feeding her, and the way you treat her, well, ...”
“I treat her ....”
“Nick, you never gave her a chance. You locked her in the bathroom the first day! And don’t tell me it was an accident! You had to use a key!”
“You don’t think I could accidentally use a key?”
“Good point, never mind. Nick, you started on her the fist day, and finally she just fought back the only way she knew how... she needed your attention and this is how she finally got it! Nothing else worked!”
“I paid attention!”
“Nick, you faked falling asleep in your first session. You rode on the bands’ bus to avoid talking to her, you stayed in your bunk the third day - and everyone knows you hate the bunks. You...”
“OK! OK!”
“Nick.” Kevin sighed, then touched me arm. “Look at me, will you? Thank you. Now listen, will you? Nick?”
“Yea, yea.” I’ll listen.
“I know how hard this is for you, really I do. I know how private you are! Hell, you never even told us about ....” Kevin stopped and looked .... uncomfortable. That’s when I knew he was thinking about Cecilia. Oh, hell. “ ... stuff. You never brag, or tell us your real problem. You keep it inside ... and that’s what’s doing this to you!” Kevin tugged on my sleeve. “Look at me Nick.” I looked back up, but I didn’t want to. “You’re sick because you keep it inside. The stuff with your family .... don’t look so surprised. We all figured it out...”
Crap. I hate it when the guys know what’s going on with my family. I hate being part of the Carter Family Freak Show.
“Nick, really, it’s OK buddy. Listen, get some sleep and drink your fluids, AND NO, not at the same time!” Kevin had learned that cutting me off at the pass was the fastest way to get there from here. “Just get some rest and we’ll talk more when you feel better.”
“OK.”
“And in the meantime I’ll talk to JC...” Oh, hell. “... and when you wake up YOU’LL talk to JC, really talk, got that?” Sure, fine, whatever. “Nick?”
“Sure.” Fine, whatever.