The Death Bed

  Thomas reminded himself that the experiment mandated that he follow his instinct. He decided that he could add another two days onto the experiment to do whatever he truly desired if he felt that this new parameter would be necessary. In the meantime he decided to ignore the realization that his instincts were impeding him from acting on his real desire.

  “Is that the best you can come up with?” He’d really meant to hold back, but the sneer in his voice horrified Julia.

  “You’re not my brother,” she said softly and fled from the room.

  When Julia had closed the door she pulled out her cell phone and redialed Maggie’s number. She tried to tell herself that this wasn’t an act of desperation, but she couldn’t escape the sick feeling that had snuck into her stomach.

  “Hello?” she said frantically when Maggie answered the phone.

  “Julia?”

  “Hey.” Julia took a moment to compose herself. “I was going to pick up some stuff from Wal-Mart and thought I’d call to ask if I could get you something.”

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you wanted to use my cell phone to call your mom!” the girl exclaimed when Lewis hung up. He still didn’t know her name.

  “Can we go now?” said another girl who hadn’t been at the table during lunch.

  “Where are we going?” Lewis asked to nobody in particular. He looked around at the seven faces that had gathered in the school parking lot and now stared at him blankly.

  “You sure you’re cool?” asked the grave faced boy.

  “Yes,” Lewis answered sheepishly.

  “You just ask a lot of questions,” said the boy.

  “I’m sorry,” Lewis said. “I was just wondering. I don’t even know your names.”

  “Why do you need to know our names?” the boy fired back. He turned to the girl who had stood up for Lewis earlier. “He’s asking a lot of questions.”

  “It’s cool,” the girl answered. Then, looking at Lewis, she said, “My name is Tina, and this is . . .”

  “Call me Suds,” the grave faced boy said before Tina could introduce him.

  “Don’t be such an idiot, Johnny, he’s just a seventh grader.” Tina said, putting emphasis on the word “Johnny.” “You remember what you were like last year.”

  The rest of the crowd introduced themselves and told Lewis what grade they were in, but Lewis didn’t remember any names apart from the first two. He did note that they were all in 8th or 9th grade, except the girl who hadn’t been at lunch, and she was in tenth grade.

  “So whose house are we going to?” Lewis asked again, directing his question to Tina.

  “See, there he is with the questions again,” Johnny said.

  “Shut up, Johnny,” one of the other boys said.

  “I’m just saying that he might be looking to rat us out. What if he’s a spy or a mole or something?”

  “He’s not a spy, and he’s not going to rat anyone out. You watch too much TV,” Tina said. Then she looked at Lewis and explained, “We’re going to my place because it’s just a few blocks away and my parents aren’t ever home.”

  The group began its migration from the parking lot to the house. They seemed to meander, moving without any discernible purpose, some walking backwards to face those behind them and crack jokes that didn’t make any sense to Lewis, and others stopping to laugh loudly at them. They jumped up on the curb or did handstands as they made their way, and Lewis felt liberated by their carefree attitudes.

  For the first time in several years Lewis didn’t feel uncomfortable. Their gruff demeanors, and encrypted speech intimidated him, but he didn’t want to go home. There was something about the easygoing attitude of the group that made him feel at ease, and the rigidity disappeared from his step, and he laughed at one of their jokes, without having the faintest idea why.

  * * *

  “I brought you the groceries you asked for,” Julia said cheerfully when Maggie opened the apartment door.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No. I have to pay you for the groceries. I know I’m hard up, but I’m not a beggar, so just tell me how much.”

  “I know you’re not a beggar, but it’s a gift. I want to give them to you.”

  “Am I like a project for you or something? Is that why you were nice to me? Are you part of an organization that tries to help poor people? Because if you are then you’ve got the wrong person. I don’t want your charity.”

  “No. It’s nothing like that.” Julia stepped back from the doorway, more than a bit confused.

  “Then why? Why would you do this?”

  Julia hesitated. “I didn’t know until just now,” she said after some consideration. “When I came here I thought it was because of a large amount of money I got recently. I’m supposed to do some good with it. I’ll admit that much. But that’s not why I came to you tonight.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  “Because you wanted me to,” Julia said. She hadn’t wanted to point out the obvious, but the words slipped away from her. “I’m sorry. That’s not really why I came,” she added hastily. “I came because I had to believe in something.”

  “In what?” Maggie seemed confused now.

  “In goodness. I had to believe that somewhere someone would do something good just for the sake of doing good. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen it before, but it’s been so long and seeing isn’t always believing. I had to see it again. And I wanted to help you.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Maggie stuttered.

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “I’m sorry I acted like that. I just got off the phone with my dad, and he wanted to take my baby because he didn’t think I could handle the responsibility. He said that I was a charity case and no kid should have to grow up on the gifts of strangers. He called me a tramp and careless, and he said it would have been better if I’d never had the baby.”

  Maggie’s ability to fight back the tears impressed Julia. She wanted to tell Maggie about Scott and that one particular afternoon. She wanted to tell her about the pills on the bathroom floor and about what she’d done to Jason. Jason, that was a name she’d avoided for months, ever since that night in Mexico in that fragile room. “I’m so guilty,” Julia thought. She knew that she would have to see him again, to try to explain. He deserved that much. The thought of the encounter sent shivers down her back. “Why can’t I face him?” she wondered.

  “I’m sorry for going on about my problems,” Maggie said, breaking the silence that Julia hadn’t even been aware of. “You don’t want to hear about all of that. Do you want to come in?”

  “Thank you,” Julia said, accepting her invitation. “I understand how difficult this kind of situation can be. You don’t have to believe me, but I know.”

  Maggie looked at Julia skeptically for a moment, and then her features softened. “Do you want to meet my son? He’s sleeping but that’s the best time to meet him. He’s an angel when he’s sleeping.”

  * * *

  Abraham’s continued existence only served to baffle the doctors, who came by to monitor his progress more and more frequently in an attempt to try to understand how he’d managed to stay alive for so long when his condition had already advanced so far.

  “It’s not ‘cause a’ clean livin’. I can promise you guys that much,” Abraham would say as they would leave his room and tell him to be sure to get plenty of rest.

  Chapter 5

  “I’ve had the same dream four or five times now,” Hannah said to her counselor. “The first time it was with Peter, and then Andy, but each time it’s been someone different. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m walking down an aisle in an old cathedral. It’s always a different cathedral, but they’re all gothic. The architecture is always spiraling and twisted, and there’s always a huge crucifix at the front, but it’s not like most crucifixes. The faces are always graphic and deformed, sometimes
they’re not even human, and they’re always so full of agony. I don’t want to walk down the aisle but I have to. Oh, I almost forgot the most important part. I’m wearing a wedding dress, but it’s black, and there’s always someone different waiting at the aisle to marry me. Julia, and Thomas are waiting at the altar like a bridesmaid and a groomsman, and David is standing in the back. Once I tried to rush up to him to hug him, but no matter how fast I ran he was always in the back and I was always at the altar. I don’t know if you take to interpreting dreams, and I don’t want to bother you, but I just want to tell someone.”

  Jenny sat still and waited.

  “Anyway, Lewis comes with a ring, and the hurt confused expression on his face breaks my heart. But I take the ring from him and try to put it on my finger, but it doesn’t fit. And then, but this is all nonsense. I’m sorry for wasting your time. Here I am a grown woman talking about my dreams as if they had all the answers. You can forget everything I’ve said.”

  “You know that David, my oldest son, is overseas,” Hannah said quickly to change the subject. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember him. Not that a mother would ever forget her son, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen him that it’s difficult to think of him. I mean it hurts me to think of that void that his absence has created. Sometimes I try not to,” Hannah finally admitted. She fidgeted despite her counselor’s inviting body language. “I think that’s part of my dream.”

  “You try not to think of him?” Jenny asked, in what felt to Hannah like a tone of condemning shock.

  “Is it wrong? I mean, in your professional opinion, is it unhealthy for a woman to try not to think of her son in this sort of circumstance? I do think of him. I try not to, but I’m always thinking about what he’s doing over there, even when he doesn’t write for months. In one sense I feel like he’s only a memory to me. We were never really close when he lived with us, and when he graduated from high school he moved away, and we talked even less. Now so much has changed while he’s been gone. I’m afraid to think how he’ll react when he comes back.”

  “And how did he take the news that you and Peter were separating?”

  “He didn’t.”

  “You mean you haven’t told him?”

  Hannah wondered if Jenny’s condescending tone was only the result of her own self-condemnation clouding her perception. She reasoned that a professional like Jenny wouldn’t actually speak to her client in such a fashion, and she relaxed a little as she answered.

  “I wrote to him and told him all about, well it was mostly drivel, but I couldn’t write about that. I hear that sometimes letters from loved ones are the only things that keep people in his situation motivated.”

  “And Peter hasn’t mentioned anything to him either?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think he has.”

  “Are you afraid that he’ll close you off completely?” Jenny probed.

  “That’s what Thomas and Julia have done. I don’t understand why they take his side. Everything’s his fault. You know I’ve even been helping him out, and they still don’t visit me.”

  “How are you helping Peter?” Jenny asked.

  “I send him a check for $2,000 on the first of every month,” Hannah boasted.

  “And why do you do that? Is it something you’re legally obligated to send him?”

  “I do it because,” Hannah began. She didn’t know why she’d decided to send her ex-husband $2,000 every month.

  “Is it because he’s the father of your children?”

  “I don’t know why,” Hannah confessed.

  “Could it be because you feel bad about the court decision, about Lewis?” Jenny prompted.

  “No,” Hannah said firmly. “I know that’s not the reason. I don’t feel sorry for him. And I don’t do it because I feel obligated either.”

  “So you really have no idea why you’re sending such a large percentage of your salary to your ex-husband on the first of the month.”

  “I really don’t know why,” Hannah said. “I know that must sound strange, but I know that I don’t feel guilty or responsible, not towards him at least.”

  “I understand,” Jenny said sympathetically. “We can talk about all of this next week. This time is good for you?”

  “Of course,” Hannah said, realizing that she’d lost track of time and that her hour had ended ten minutes ago. “Do you have another appointment now?” she asked.

  “I’ve got a little time,” Jenny answered.

  “It’s just that I wanted to talk to you about one of your other clients, about Andy. I’m concerned for him because, well, you see he’s been leaving messages on my answering machine for a while now even though I haven’t returned a single call.”

  “And why don’t you return his calls?” Jenny asked.

  “I realized that we’re not compatible. He’s a great guy, but when I’m with him I don’t feel,” Hannah struggled to put words to the vague emotion that swept over her in Andy’s presence.

  “This may be premature,” Jenny said before Hannah could finish her sentence, “but I think you’re going through a very lonely time in your life now, and if you don’t return Andy’s calls, then you’re going to need some kind of intimate friendship to help you get through this. It isn’t healthy mentally, or even physiologically, for someone to be completely isolated.”

  “That’s just it,” Hannah said. “When we’re together we seem to click so well. He seems too perfect at times, but I still feel isolated when I’m with him.”

  “Are you giving him a chance?”

  “I am. I did. It’s hard to feel all alone, but it’s unbearable to feel alone when you’re with someone else.”

  “It sounds to me like you may need to give yourself more time,” Jenny stated.

  “I think you’re right,” Hannah agreed.

  “But then again it might be that you need to give him another chance. You don’t want miss out on a good thing because you weren’t ready for it yet. Most relationships come down to timing, and that’s a shame, but if you shut him out now because you’re not ready, you might miss out on a great opportunity.”

  “Thanks for everything, Jenny. I feel like this is really helping, and there’s so much more I want talk about.”

  “Well I’ll be here waiting on you next week at this same time.”

  Hannah thanked Jenny one last time and got up to leave, she didn’t mention anything about Lewis arriving home late last night, with no explanation of where or with whom he’d been. Neither had she said anything to Lewis.

  “Maybe if we’d had some extra time I would have mentioned something about Lewis,” Hannah thought as she stopped at the receptionist’s desk to write a check. “Besides, he said he was with friends. My son spending time with friends isn’t really an issue for counseling. I should just be happy for him and not bother him with questions. And there isn’t really any need to mention it to Jenny.”

  As she exited the building she left behind all the worry and anxiety that her youngest son had caused her. By the time she got home, she couldn’t understand what had possessed her to feel so overly suspicious.

  * * *

  “I see the Devil,” Thomas told the woman who sat across from him. “Wait don’t write that down!”

  The woman had begun to scribble a note on her pad of paper, but at his request she put the pen down and looked at Thomas intently.

  “I don’t see him with my eyes like he’s here in real life. It only happens in my dreams.”

  “How long has this been happening?”

  “Almost a year now. At first I only had those dreams from time to time, and I didn’t even want to call him the Devil because he looked just like anybody else. I mean he wasn’t a red imp with a pointy tail and pitchfork. All we did was talk. We always met in a coffee shop and discussed ideas. I didn’t give it any thought because I understood that it was only my mind trying to work out in its subconscious what it had been dealing with all day. After a while I kn
ew that if I went to the coffee shop in my dream that he would be there waiting for me, and I had the choice of whether or not I wanted to go up onto the terrace and talk with him. I was in control.”

  “But now you’re not?”

  “No. He’s in all my dreams and not just at the coffee shop. He’s always there and I can’t make him go away. Sometimes I don’t want to go to sleep at night because I know he’ll be there waiting for me as soon as I do. He makes me do all sorts of things, but it’s not really him that makes me do anything, because deep down I want to do everything he suggests, but I need to be able to pretend like someone else is making me because I know I couldn’t ever do any of those things in real life.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “I don’t want to get into that. You’ll really think I’ve lost my mind.”

  “How do you feel while you’re doing them?”

  “I feel terrible, like I’m the worst person to ever live for even being able to consider . . . I wake up in the mornings and hate myself.”

  “And you want me to give you something that will make him go away.”

  “Not necessarily go away. I just want to be in control again, to only see him when I want to discuss something. Most of my best ideas came from those dreams, from my subconscious.”

  “I can prescribe you something that will keep you from dreaming at all. Isn’t that better than being afraid of going to sleep?”

  “Yes. It is now, but only for a little while. I don’t want to need medication to be able to go to sleep, but I can’t go on without some rest.”

  “Of course,” the woman said. She pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled down a prescription.

  * * *

  When Julia got home that evening she found Thomas sitting on the couch absorbed in a text book.

  “Catching up on everything you haven’t been doing?” she asked as she passed through the living room.

  “There’s something I’ve got to explain to you,” Thomas answered. “It’s about the last few days. You see I’m in the middle of a social experiment, and that’s why I was acting a little differently.”

  “Is it for a class or something?” Julia asked.

  “No. It’s for me personally.”

  “You mean it was for you personally.”