“It’s cold again Nicky, so cold…”
“Huh?” I snapped out of my reverie, remembering where I was in gradual reworking of my mind. Joe had snatched my hand from the arm of the wheelchair and was pressing it to his feverish heart. He looked even sicker, paler than ever before. His dying hands clutched mine tighter than you could imagine for a child so desperately ill. We stayed like that for a while, until he closed his eyes and told me that he loved me. Then he was gone.
~*~
I couldn’t make it to the funeral. In fact, I couldn’t even walk fifteen feet to the bathroom without the aid of two people and a wheelchair. I can’t quite decide what is more embarrassing – having two people hold you up while you pee, or having a nurse clean your bedpan every day.
Still, I kept thinking about what Joe told me about being strong. It was hard to be strong when your throat bled from all of that breathing you had to do. It’s even harder to be strong when the kid’s parents personally invite you to their son’s funeral and then you’re unable to attend because the air outside the hospital will kill you. This is all because the medication you’re taking is so detrimental to your immune system that you’d rather let the cancer finish you off. My mom put some flowers that I picked from her catalogue on Joe’s grave for me. I didn’t feel any better.
Dr. M. kept me on suicide watch for three weeks post-funeral. He decided that I was handling the concept of the cruel and torturous death of a child so well that I must crazy. In a way, he was right. Joe’s death was killing me inside and I was thinking brash thoughts. Perhaps I was being selfish, as usual, but I didn’t know how to react to watching this young child die of the same disease that would eventually claim me.
Just as I was thinking I should stick around a little longer to do some good for someone, who should stop by? A dark man, with large, thick-rimmed eyeglasses and a clipboard had sneaked himself into my depressing abode. He sat himself down uncomfortably at the edge of my bed. Since I hardly had any visitors I had no use for chairs in my room, therefore I was asked if they could be taken for someone else. What kind of dummy would go door to door looking for an ill person that no one visits just so that they can steal their chairs?
The man sat there for a while, shifting so that he could put one leg up on the bed. His lanky knee dug into my body as if I could move out of the way if so I pleased. At this point I was practically paraplegic and this guy was acting as though he was about to recruit me for a position in the army.
“You’re probably wondering who I am. My name is Neil Cardvol and I’m here to talk about a decision that you can make now to help your family in the near future. I’ve brought with me here a few sheets and informational packages to aid the decision process as well as a video-”
“I’m too weak to read and watch movies. Especially *informational* ones,” I told him matter-of-factly.
“Oh. Well, I can always read them to you if you’re interested.”
“What are they about?” I asked, expecting him to announce his charity and also expecting that I would be turning him down.
“Um.”
“Out with it.”
“I am a spokesperson for LITI – that is, “Life Insurance for the Terminally Ill”. I’ve come today to discuss with you our policies and how your family can benefit from our program. Also, I want to aid you in the writing of your will…”
“Excuse me?” I interrupted, “Is this some sort of joke?”
“No sir, I assure you it is not. Your mother specifically requested that I come here today. Please don’t be upset with me, I don’t handle anger well.”
For a moment I said nothing, then I gestured for him to use the door. He removed his kneecap from the depths of my bony leg and made use of the door. Neil sure as hell wasn’t a persistent life insurance spokesperson. It was like he expected me to kick him out because he knew that my mother was attempting to secure my money for when I die. I felt used and betrayed and I refused to see any visitors for the rest of the week, including Dr. M.
~*~
Tuesday I received a very unwelcome visit from my mother, who graciously pointed out that what little money she had managed to save from bank account should go into my sibling’s futures. I told her that I’d give her the number now, since she had so much faith that I would die soon. She burst into tears, thinking, perhaps, that I had misunderstood the concept of insurance. I don’t know my own mother anymore. I can’t even tell if she’s trying to be the loving mother that she once was, or if she was plotting something against her bed-ridden son. It would be possible to repair the family relationship by writing the will in her favor, but the love would be false and temporary, and I strive for something more.
She wiped her eyes and nose daintily with one of the tissues she always seemed to have with her. She gave me a look that I knew well, her “Don’t upset me, Nick!” look. The one she always gave before handing out some well-plotted punishment.
“You listen here, boy,” she told me, her voice low, “you’ve put this family in hell. As far as I am concerned, you know longer belong to it. We’ve sold our house and all of our belongings just to keep you alive. I’ve had to start telling your brother that you’re dead so that he can rest assured he’ll never have to see you this way. Andy loved you-“
“You’re not my mother,” I snapped, cutting her off.
“Of course I am, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“My brother’s name is Aaron, not Andy. Amateur.” Up until that point, I’d really thought she was my mother!
Her eyes bulged. Knowing that I was a helpless lamb, she curled her fist around one of my breathing tubes and began to threaten me. “Give me the money!” she shouted shaking the cable roughly.
I calmly detached the cable from her hand, as I was not breathing from it in the first place. The woman glared at me with eyes that were not my mother’s. She must have came to me thinking I was loaded with cash and knowing that I was quite blind and detached. Her face was flushed and her hands shook spasmodically as they lay in her lap. She wore a crisp white suit similar to something my mother had worn in one of her earlier visits. Her eyes told me that something was not quite right in her mind. My hand hovered over the call-button, but I did not press it. There was something else I recognized about this woman. This woman was Nancy.
“Nancy, why are you doing this to me? Please – you’re scaring me,” I told her in an attempt to calm her.
Her eyes welled with tears. Her mood-swings were quick and effortless. “Oh Nick, I’ve missed you so bad. You’re the only person who has ever treated me decently, but I have to do this. I knew you’d recognize me, but Louie made me do it anyway. He has so much money and I don’t understand why…”
“He knows where I am?”
She nodded and began to hiccup. I offered her some water and she took it gratefully. It didn’t do her hiccups any good, but she was visibly calmer. She looked at me fixedly and did not remove her eyes from mine until I looked away. I’d forgotten that I had changed a lot from the last time I’d seen her, and not for the best either.
“You’re so thin,” she whispered, removing the wig that she had been using for a disguise. I allowed one of her hands to caress the top of my head and my cheeks. She carefully wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me into an embrace. Her hands were cool and they felt like magic on my heated skin. My arms found their way to her waist and they held her for a moment before becoming limp.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, still holding me.
“Lots.”
“I’m sorry about everything Nick. I didn’t even want to come here, but you have to understand that I had no choice. He’s still after you. He’s practically been looking for you ever since you left. Apparently he has some unfinished business and you’re right in the middle of it. Part of the problem is that his plans didn’t predict that you would live past December. I was tricked so long ago into believing that you were dead.”
“If he wants me, why didn’t he just come here and kidnap me? That’s usually his style.”
“I don’t know. He wanted the money first and will to your mother’s name. Not that your mother has anything to do with any of this.”
“I think I understand. If he has possession of every last cent that I own, he thinks that he can come back and bribe me with money. He might even have come to threaten my family.”
“It’s all right though, because I’ll make sure that he doesn’t get any of it.”
“What happens if you don’t come back with the money?”
“The same thing that happens to all of those poor people who defy Screwy Louie. It’s unoriginal, but it’s true.”
“Nancy, I don’t want to put you through that anymore. As far as I’m concerned he can come here himself and pick both of us up. Anyway it happens, he’ll still come back and try to kill us.”
“But…”
Her sentence was interrupted by a gasp at the door. It was my real mother standing in the entrance, her hand covering her gaping mouth. “I’m sorry – I had no idea Nick! You have a girlfriend? How wonderful!”
Nancy let me out of her embrace as I recoiled; both of us were blushing furiously.
“I’ve brought you a special visitor, but it looks like you already have one!” my mother continued, clapping her hands together in joy. You know how mothers are.
“Mom, please, she’s not my girlfriend! She’s just… a friend.” Nancy grew a smile on her face squeezed my hand. I suppose she didn’t know that I was crazy enough to think of her as a friend. She was not a very good friend, but then again neither was I. We are quite compatible in that aspect.
“It’s perfectly acceptable for a guy and a girl to be just friends,” Nancy equipped. She was nervous speaking to my mother; her hands gripped and twisted my bed sheets. There was some sort of silent argument going on between the two, but I could only sense this disagreement because the lingering silence spoke volumes for their minds only. It was one of those times that I was glad I wasn’t a woman.
“Who’s winning?” I asked, hoping to break up some of the tension. They looked at me like alien invaders had kidnapped my face. I smiled thinly; I wasn’t used to getting so much attention at once.
Nancy picked up her purse and smoothed the bed linen she had been sitting on. “I have to leave now, but it was nice seeing you again. I’ll have to buy some time because I’m not going back there right away. I’ll call you once people I love start disappearing.”
“Ok. Bye.”
“Wait a minute young lady,” my mother said in a brutal tone. Uh oh, this was going to get nasty. Why did Nancy have to mention dead people? Now she’ll have to start explaining things to my mother, which could be a long and terrifying experience. I didn’t want my mother to know a quarter of what I’d been through when I was gone. But before I could started signaling to Nancy that I’d kill her if she leaked information, my mother said, “That’s * my * suit that you’re wearing.”
I smacked my forehead with my fist. Great. That meant my mother wanted * me * to explain everything.
“Oh this? I got it at the Bon Marché.” She twirled in the little two-piece suit with matching heels and scarf, showing off the tag at the back of her neck. “You should wear yours the next time we meet – then we can be twins!”
My mother and Nancy bonded another twenty minutes before the former finally parted. She paused in the hall for a moment, and although she was facing the wall, she moved her lips as if she was talking to someone. My hearing wasn’t quite back to normal, but I knew instinctively that Nancy wasn’t just moving her lips. I was thinking somewhere along the lines of “invisible friend” but then I remembered that my mom had brought a visitor.