Elysium (4 page)

“Here, baby, let me take your things,” she said, as she carried away his jacket and gym bag. Her banter was momentarily muffled by the closet as she leaned in. It didn’t matter. The rhythm of her speech was what Adrian really listened to. It calmed him. There was a lightness to Sheila that defied her heavy bulk. Adrian wished he could be like her. He didn’t think he could ever be that sane. The walk back home had not been easy. He felt sick with every step. It was like he was walking in a dark misty cloud. Sheila’s friendly voice was a welcome wash of clear water.

“I left something on the stove for you. You can warm it up for dinner.”

“Thanks.”

“You better eat it up, baby. A grown man like you shouldn’t be so damn skinny.” She laughed. He couldn’t help but laugh a little, too.

“Is he awake?”

“Yeah, he’s awake. We were just playing cards when you came in.”

Antoine didn’t look up when Adrian entered the room. Long plastic lines of fluids connected to drip tubes that connected to bags of liquid that connected to machines. The complex spider’s web surrounded Antoine, delivering to his frail, failing body life-sustaining medicines. Antoine and the machines were becoming one. They were lucky to be able to afford all this. Since the disease had spread, such equipment was scarce and expensive.

There was a deck of cards in Antoine’s hands. He used to be remarkably nimble at shuffling. He’d flip cards like acrobats, then split them into piles of two, fan them out, and shove them back together as if forming a loaf of bread. Now he slowly slid them around on his tray, lifting a corner of one to expose its face, then slid them around some more.

“Well, that’s it for me,” Sheila said at the doorframe. “I’ll see you two next week.” She pursed her lips. “And don’t play cards with that sucker. He cheats.”

Antoine simpered while still concentrating on the cards. “I’m not the cheater around here.”

Cold blood rushed to Adrian’s head.

“Well, see you guys next week.”

“I’ll see you out,” Adrian said, leaving the room as fast as he could.

He walked Sheila to the door, accepting her goodbye hug like the friend she was.

“You okay?” she said.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“Well, if you need anything you have my number.”

“Yes, thanks Sheila. Have a good week.”

“Yes, you too. Remember to take it one day at a time.”

When she was gone, all the safety went with her. He faced the bedroom like a Neanderthal standing before the opening of a dark cave. Who knew what danger lurked within? Adrian opened the door to find Antoine staring into space.

“So how is he?” Antoine asked.

“Who?” Adrian replied.

“You know who,
Papi
.”

Adrian sat down. There was no need to ask how he’d found out. It was a small neighborhood. Heifers talk. Antoine was as capable of getting phone calls as he ever was.

“You know that it doesn’t mean anything.”

Antoine looked down at his hands.

“Yeah, I know.”

“… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We agreed you could see other people … I just wish it wasn’t him.”

The machines that chirped in time to Antoine’s heart barely registered a flutter. If they had been attached to Adrian, they would sound like a conga band.

“It’s just a thing. I don’t care about him.”

“Does
he
know that?” Antoine met Adrian’s eyes. “He’s only waiting for me to die so he can finally have you.”

“Don’t say that!”

The air sucked out of Adrian’s lungs. All sound disappeared. The room floated around and around, spinning and spinning.

** CORE INTERRUPT **

DETECTED MAJOR FAULT @ SECTOR: 10110001

SYSTEM RE-ROUTE IN PROGRESS

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“Don’t ever say that!”

“It’s true,” Antoinette said. “You know it’s true. Promise me that you won’t choose her after I’m gone. Anyone but her.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well, I do! Promise me you won’t choose her. Helen is trouble, Adrianne. She might be good for an afternoon fuck, but that’s it.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You’re going to have to deal with what’s going to happen after I’m gone sooner or later.”

Adrianne closed her eyes tight. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she repeated.

“Adrianne,” Antoinette said. “Adrianne!”

Adrianne stood up to leave.

“All right, all right, don’t go. Just sit down.”

Antoinette began to organize cards in front of her, forming lines as if preparing to play solitaire. The sounds of ruffling cards and beeping machines filled the void. Adrianne was absorbed in the movements of her hands. They were jittery, long and thin. Antoinette could still write and use the computer, but after a while she became so tired. Her body couldn’t keep up with her mind. It frustrated her. Adrianne would do anything to have Antoinette back the way she had been.

“I don’t want you talking about dying anymore.”

Antoinette raised a corner of her mouth in an anemic grin and said, “Okay.”

Antoinette began coughing. She raised herself slightly and bent over to hack so deeply that phlegm flew out. Adrianne wiped her mouth with a tissue.

They were waiting by a river for the boat that would come all too soon. When it did, they both knew that Antoinette would be a passenger. She was leaving, and Adrianne couldn’t stop her. She desperately wanted Antoinette to get up from her bed and walk. They could go anywhere she wanted. She’d take her to the ends of the world, if only she didn’t get on that boat.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” Adrianne said, her lungs like canisters of warm jelly. The water of sorrow ran like a river down the curve of Adrianne’s cheek. She wiped it away, but more freely came.

“Come here, baby,” Antoinette said.

Adrianne carefully snaked through the tubes and wrapped her arms around Antoinette. Antoinette was a tiny bird. So light and delicate like lace. Her ricey hair was balding in spots. It was once so full and beautiful, a bounty of curls and waves. Adrianne kissed her scalp and folded her into her chest.

“You’re my baby always,” she said. “And I’m your girl ’til the day I die.”

>>

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** RESET **

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3.

In the stillness and the shadows, among the crumpled clothes scattered about the floor and the dust bunnies that roamed the bedroom like tumbleweeds in a ghost town, lay Adrianne. The curtains were drawn. Lines of light slipped through the edges and along the seams. They hadn’t been open for … since … It had been a while. It was day outside. There was life out there. And Adrianne wanted no part of it. They called it heartache because that was what it was, the heart ached and moaned for the hurt. An agonizing numbness wrapped around her chest like a vise. Antoinette was gone. And there was nothing that was gonna bring her back.

The doorbell rang. Adrianne kept her eyes shut.

A pounding on the door.

“I know you’re in there! Open up, honey, it’s me!” Helen shouted.

Leave me alone. God, just leave me alone.

Keys tinkled in the lock. The damn bitch still had the set that Adrianne had given to her long ago for emergencies. Adrianne sank deeper into the bed and twisted in the sheets. Helen entered, stepping through the apartment. Kitchen plates clicked, water ran over days of unwashed dishes, chairs scraped the floor. Magazine pages flipped in the living room, papers were rifled through, the letters and bills that had been left scattered on the coffee table were shuffled into stacks. Then slowly the bedroom door opened.

“Adrianne?” she whispered.

Silence.

“Adrianne, are you in here?”

“Please leave me alone,” Adrianne said. Her throat was dry and hoarse from disuse. Words were useless. Only in her dreams did she speak or sing or dance.

Helen sat down at the edge of the bed. Just let me sleep, Adrianne thought, I’m warm under these sheets. Cocooned from everything. It was easier to live in dreams than to feel the harshness of the air and the light and the sounds. Only sleep was a solace for sorrow.

“Honey … look at you. …” Helen paced her words. This was a delicate operation.

“Please, go away.”

“I’m your friend. I can’t leave you like this. … I know it hurts, but it’s been months. …”

“Leave me alone!” Adrianne screamed. Her words spewed forth like hot liquid.

“I will not leave you alone!”

Adrianne could feel Helen’s hand searching through the sheets to find her. It landed on her arm.

“Antoinette would not want this for you. It’s been too long. Today you’re getting cleaned up and going out into the sun. We are going outside together and having a nice meal somewhere like normal people.” She flung back the sheets, exposing Adrianne to the cold.

The shower stall was a clear glass-enclosed closet. Steam was her only curtain. Water spread over her like a cleansing rain. Its warmth stimulated her limbs and soaked her skin. Shampoo with the scent of lilac splashed into her eyes and stung. She scrubbed and scrubbed, then shaved. Dry flaky skin turned into a darkened flow where it streamed toward the drain and gathered with the foamy remains of soap. Adrianne was angry with Helen for invading her space, and she loved her for it. Her presence outside the bathroom door made Adrianne feel responsible, somehow. Not better, just more responsible. She had to clean up; someone was here. She had to eat; someone was watching. She had to shave her armpits; someone could smell.

Adrianne turned off the water and stood enshrouded in a steam so thick she could hardly breathe. Nothing held her, only the moist air. She was lost in time, surrounded by a warm humidity, while thoughts of Antoinette, buried and decomposing in the soil, whirled in her mind. She hugged herself and rocked as if in prayer, then leaned against the wet tile, moaning softly to herself.

“Hey, you all right in there?” Helen shouted from the other side of the door.

“I’m fine,” Adrianne said too quickly, with a flash of fear that Helen might come inside.

“You’re so quiet. … Okay, take your time. When you come out, I have a surprise for you.”

Adrianne sat on the toilet and let the warm pee stream out of her. Then she stood and stared, mesmerized by her yellow creation. She flushed. Her moist hand wiped the fogged mirror of the medicine cabinet. Facing back was her and not her. She was somebody else. Someone she didn’t recognize. Someone she didn’t want to recognize.

“Sweetie?” The door quietly opened and Helen’s head came into view. “Oh, honey …” she said as she let herself in. She put her arms around Adrianne’s shoulders, then brushed back her wet hair.

“I’m getting you out of this morbid place. At least for one afternoon you’re going to forget all this.”

“But I don’t want to forget.”

“You can’t live like this.” They stared at each other in the mirror.

Adrianne nodded.

“Come on and get dressed.” Helen led her back to the bed to sit while she rummaged through the closet. In her right mind she would have told Helen to get the hell out of there. Nobody touched her clothes. Or told her how to dress. But that was before. The hangers scraping against the wooden closet pole sounded like birds screeching. At last Helen emerged with her silk red blouse and a dark blue pair of pants. She held the outfit up proudly. “I always liked you in this shirt, and these will look good with it, don’t you think?”

Adrianne took the clothes and began putting them on without questioning Helen’s taste.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Helen said. “I scored two tickets to this afternoon’s games, and you and I are going!”

Adrianne made a questioning face.

“It will be fun! There might even be some celebrities in the audience.”

Adrianne didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. She had never known Helen to have an interest in sports. Adrianne sighed. The small breath released some of her melancholy.

“But first, there is lunch. I know this cute little place downtown where we can sit outside and eat and watch the people go by.”