Sep 15 2006
No Sad Songs Part II
I sat on the bed and traced the paisley pattern of the ugly bedspread as I talked to my mom. She talked. I listened. I needed a smoke, but I quit. I paced, instead.It was my turn to talk. “Yeah Ma, I saw him. He looks okay. Have you talked to the kids? Jane going to let them…you know…come out? Tell her I’ll take really good care of them. What? She said that? Well you tell her he’s dying and that his kids should at least see him before… What do you mean? Don’t say that! Face it Ma, it’s happening, we can’t stop it! Ma, Ma, don’t cry. Please. Okay… yeah, I’ll call you. Bye.”I hung up the phone and lay down on the bed. I was so cold I shivered although the room was warm. Rain tapped against the window. “The angels are dropping water balloons,” my dad used to say. I smiled and wished I were five, again.I went to the window and watched the rain.“God, I don’t know if I believe in you anymore, but if you’re there, could you please help me?”Somebody knocked. I wondered who it was. I felt scared. Alone in a strange city.
The knock became more urgent.
“Who is it?” I tried to see out the window.
“I’m a friend of your brother’s,” a woman said from the other side of the door.
I cracked the door, but left the chain on. It was a middle-aged woman. I didn’t know her but I knew she wasn’t there to hurt me.
Her eyes were sad like mine. “I’m Barbara, Paul’s friend.”
“You’re going to catch your death. Come inside.”
Barbara entered shyly and shook the rain from her hair. “I’m the one…”
“Who called my mother?” I finished the sentence for her.
“Just can’t mind my own business,” she grinned.
I nodded. “You want something?”
“Boy, bluntness runs in your family,” Barbara said.
We both laughed. “Sorry, not feeling very social tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what you did, that took guts. I mean, to call total strangers to tell them their son is dying…” I wondered if she had a smoke I could bum. “But I don’t want to discuss family business.”
Barbara looked around. “Quite a place, eh? Fancy.” She grinned again maybe thinking it would be contagious. It wasn’t. “Look, ain’t none of my business but Pauly’s place is big and empty. I know he’d rather you stayed there.”
I knew she was trying to be kind but it irritated me. “Paul and I haven’t been close since we were kids. Even then it wasn’t easy.” I said it as if that would explain years of estrangement.
Barbara wouldn’t give up. “Still, this is no kind of place to be staying in. If you don’t want to stay at his place you could…”
I cut her off. “Look, I don’t mean to be blunt but I don’t want to owe you anything. God knows, I already do and I don’t like it.” I knew I was being mean and but I couldn’t help it. “I don’t know you. I don’t want to trust you.” I started to cry again. “The sad thing is, you probably know my brother better than I ever did. But that’s okay, because I’m not here for him. I’m here for his kids, and for me.”
Barbara got it and started to leave.
I took a step toward her and whispered, “Don’t judge me too hard. You don’t know the water that’s passed under the bridge.”
She gave me a piece of paper and a key. “If you change your mind, this is the address and the key. Good to meet you.”
******
I peered into his hospital room. It was dark except for slivers of moonlight that sneaked through the slats of the Venetian blinds. I didn’t know if I should wake him, “Paul?”
He didn’t answer. I went in, letting the door close behind me.
“I’m awake, Annie,” he whispered.
“I thought you’d be asleep.” I said.
“Then why did you come?” Paul’s sarcasm could cut diamonds.
“Okay wise-guy, if you’re going to be like that, I’m leaving.” I didn’t need much of an excuse to run screaming from this place and my brother’s resignation to death. “I can’t fix your life. I don’t know why I even came.” I burst my own bubble of courage and felt useless and afraid again.
Paul switched on the bedside lamp. “Same reason as when you tried to help me in the school yard.”
I remembered. I was six and he was seven. A bunch of bullies had him cornered. They kicked him and called him names. Each blow, each insult was a knife in my heart. “I was so mad. Why’d they do that to you? Why couldn’t I help you?”
Paul took my hand, “But you did.”
I felt sadder still. “No. I couldn’t then…and I can’t now.”
He gripped my hand. “Yes, you can. You’re the only one who can help me.”
I was afraid of what he wanted. “Me? No. You’ve got doctors, nurses…friends. They can help.”
He pierced my scaredy-cat shield with a look. “They can’t bring me my kids. But you can.”
I couldn’t believe it. I was happy and worried at the same time. “You want to see them? You really want to see them?”
“Yeah. I want them to know who I am. To face me. If they hate me, then let them say so and take it out on me, not on other people.”
I was afraid to get my hopes up. Worried he’d change his mind. Unsure I could trust him to carry through.
“Annie, I know I’m asking a lot.” He read my thoughts. He always could. “There’s no reason you should do it. Not for me, anyway. Emily and Robby though, that was another matter. Isn’t that why you came anyway?”
It was why I’d come. For as much as I loved my brother, he had chosen his life and whatever consequences that it brought on. His kids hadn’t. They’d had no say at all, and they deserved one. I trembled as the words sputtered out of me. “I don’t want them to grow up hating you. It’s not right. Kids shouldn’t hate their father.”
Paul looked like he’d float up out of his bed. “Call Jane. I’ll talk to her. I’ll convince her.”
I looked at my watch, “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Annie,” he said gently, “I don’t have that many nights left.” (to be continued…)
copyright 2006
