Chapter Twenty-One: It Wasn’t a Girlie Scream
I wish someone would get that door. The bell has been ringing for five minutes. Ring. Ring. Where the hell was everyone? Wait, AJ and Howie had gone to the airport to meet Kevin. He had left a message on AJ’s machine that he was flying in to “see to things.” We all knew what that meant and AJ felt it best to head him off at the pass. Give that man a white hat.
Ring. Ring. Where was Michael? Ring. Ring. Damn. I’ll have to get up. I’m allowed up but I’m not suppose to walk down stairs. That was on my list of “don’t do” for the next two weeks. Don’t lift anything heavier than the food that goes in my mouth (Howie wanted the doctor to change it to a specific weight.), don’t walk up or down stairs, don’t exercise (My favorite.), don’t get overly excited (AJ interpreted this one in a different way from the doctor. “So, this no sex for two weeks. Is that just with someone else?”), and no food off the diet.
“Hello?” Ring. Ring. I guess the visitor couldn’t hear me from the top of the stairs. I wonder if sliding down the banister is against the rules?
“NICK! What are you doing up?” Ring. Ring. “You have a hearing problem?” Sometimes I can be obvious.
“I was in the john. Go back to bed.”
I would have but I wanted to see who it was. I was sick of Michael, AJ and Howie. I was sick of myself. No matter who was on the other side of that door they were bound to bring a little excitement into my life.
“Kevin!” Michael seemed excited to see his cousin.
“MICHAEL, YOU BASTARD!” Kevin was equally excited. Apparently for a different reason.
“What ....” Michael didn’t have time for a complete sentence. Kevin’s fist stopped him. The fist he plowed right into Michael’s face.
“Michael!” Oh no. Stairs, here
I come. It took me a few minutes to reach ground level. I was
still drugged up and with each step I experienced
a brief bout of dizziness. But I
persisted, accompanied by the sounds of Michael and Kevin pounding each other. Kevin was out for the kill but Michael was no slouch. He had several brothers and new how to fight. He also had several sisters and knew how to fight dirty. In the mists of the punching, kicking and name-calling (and most of it was too colorful for me to relate) AJ and Howie walked in. They had missed Kevin at the airport and arrived just in time for the main event. Howie was upset and immediately tried to intercede, which only got him a stray punch on the cheek. AJ was not in the least bit upset. He pulled up a chair and started handing out pointers.
“Hit him under the chin! Man, you guys are sorry.”
“AJ! Don’t help! I mean not that way. Let’s get them apart.” Howie hates violence.
I have no idea what possessed me (Many things do. The urge to put firecrackers under a toilet seat. The urge to put peanut butter in Kevin’s hair. The urge to have the make-up artist put girlie make-up on Howie when he’s sleeping.) but I decided I had to stop the fight. In my blondness I thought stepping between the warring parities was the most efficient method of achieving my goal. Note to self: NEVER step between two people using each other as punching bags three days after surgery. This is a BAD thing.
“Aaarrrggghhh!” Well, at least it wasn’t a girlie scream.
“Nick!” “Oh my God!” “Did you get hit in the stomach?” AJ, Howie and Michael were attempting to out-concern each other.
“Leave him alone!” It was Kevin’s turn to do an impression, AJ. He grabbed me and hauled me towards the living room.
“Kevin stop!” Howie and AJ started after us in full-run.
“Kevin for God’s sake! He just ...”
“He just what Michael?” Kevin turned and pounced.
“He’s just what? You keep your hands off him!”
“Kevin!” Howie was wringing his hands and on him it’s not a good gesture.
“I trusted you! How could you take advantage of Nick when he ...”
“He just had surgery!” Michael was all for butting in, thank goodness. I was no condition to impart this information on Kevin, being doubled over in pain.
“What?”
“Nick just had surgery Kevin.” AJ, the voice of reason (I never thought I’d see the day.) took hold of my other arm. “Nick, you all right buddy?” Yes. Fine. No speak. No breath. Need drugs. Wish I knew sign language.
“Surgery?” Kevin turned to me. “WHAT surgery?” If I thought he was mad before I was highly mistaken. A vein on his forehead was throbbing to such a degree it was actually MOVING his eyebrow! Help me Auntie Em!
“Stomach surgery. Nick had stomach surgery Kevin, and you just clocked him there.” Michael pushed himself between me and Kevin. “That’s why I’m here, I’m helping take care of him.”
In the stunned silence I could actually hear that vein on Kevin’s forehead throbbing. That’s quite impressive considering I was gasping in pain and trying not to sob.
“God, I’m sorry, I ...”
“Always rush in and overreact? Jump to conclusions? Treat Nick as if he doesn’t have a brain cell in his head?”
“Mike, don’t.”
“Nick ...” I don’t know why but the sound of Kevin’s voice set me off. I may have screwed up but these guys were no Saints.
“Shut up.” I wished I had the power to yell it, but somewhere just above a whisper has its benefits. “You are not my father ... get it? What if I was screwing around with Michael, what business is it of yours?”
“Nick man, calm ..”
“Shut up Howie. Stop trying to make peace ... stop going with the flow.”
“Nicky ...”
“Shut up AJ! Stop enjoying your damn self!” That was the last straw. I yelled, which meant I doubled over on the floor, and we all know what that means.
The long and short of it was I got another trip, oh goody, to the hospital. Dr. Evant met us in the emergency room and determined that no damage had been done (This took three hours and all sorts of horrid tests.). I was given a pain shot, more pills, and instructions for a five-day bed rest. Howie promised I would mind. AJ was moderating Mike and Kevin, though if they wanted to fight I felt we were in the right place.
Me? I was sick, and it wasn’t at my stomach. Look where “taking care of it myself” had gotten me. Michael had a black eye, AJ and Howie were mixed up to their necks in something they had no real part in, and Kevin was going to kill me. It was that simple. I had to explain my plan, my reasons for it, and then call a funeral home. Maybe I’ll do that first. I might not get through the reasons. Funny thing is, I really can’t remember what they were.
-