Arnie brought the pan and a towel close under his chin.
He drew in a long, quaking breath, then another, then centered his mind on every breath that followed, commanding, controlling each one.
Arnie put the pan aside and sat close, silent.
Dane gave his weeping free rein; there could be no stopping it even as his bruises tortured him with every quake of his body. The moment passed, not in minutes but in breaths, thoughts, memories, wrenchings in his soul, until somewhere in his mind, just slightly removed from the visions, the soul pain, the hospital smells, and the painkillers, he took hold of what he already knew.
He could hardly place the breath behind the words. “I am just so much going to miss her.”
Arnie blew his nose on the same handkerchief he’d used to clean Dane’s face. “You may never finish saying good-bye. Maybe that’s okay.” He cleared his throat. “If it were me, I could never give her up.”
Dane noticed the move of the breeze over his face, the warmth of the sun on the patio. Birds flitted and chattered in the arbor. Mandy was about things like that.
“I suppose there were many who loved her,” Dane said. “But it was my arm she took to go to parties; she wrote her love notes for me; she chose to share my future when I didn’t even have one.” His vision blurred with fresh tears. “How did a guy like me rate a woman like her?”
Arnie touched him on the left shoulder, the one that wouldn’t hurt. “That’s the stuff you wanna remember.”
Arnie Harrington, his agent but mostly his friend, a little on the heavy side, still had some hair but not much, and had to be as old as Dane but didn’t look it. How he found out there’d been an accident Dane would have to ask him later. It was only now that Dane fully recognized he was here.
He drew a breath to calm his insides and touched Arnie’s hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“Got a call from Jimmy Bryce over at the Mirage. He thought it was a rumor so he called me. I suppose I can call him back, but it’ll be all over town by now.”
“Guess it’ll be in the papers.”
“Guess they’re already writing it. I’ll handle all of that.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
Dane followed Arnie’s gaze toward the Las Vegas Strip, where every structure, object, entrance, and electric light vied for attention. It was no great revelation, but after all the years he and Mandy worked here, all he could see, all he cared to remember was the woman who remained real in such an unreal place. “I got way better than I deserved.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Forty years.”
“Like I said …”
“Forty years …” The fact came alive as he lingered on it and salved the horrors from his mind, at least for now. With no effort at all the unfaded image of Mandy first setting foot in his life played before his eyes, the dove girl sitting in the front row who caught and held his eye … to the swelling, carnival sound of a gilded merry-go-round.
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Frank E. Peretti, This Present Darkness
(Series: # )
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