Bobby blinked his eyes and shook his head, his amazement momentarily obliterating his fear and pain….Damn….I aint never seen no pad like this before…damn….This be righteous…outta sight righteous.
Moishe looked at him for a moment, I take already a look at your face before you fall asleep. Its hurting a lot? Bobby shrugged, just slightly, having learned just how much movement he could tolerate before the pain kicked his ass. Your body, is hurting too? Bobby suddenly seemed deflated and appeared to be just a little shorter as he sat in the bright red wagon. Moishe pulled the wagon next to a chair in the kitchen, then gently touched Bobbys arms until he found spots that werent too tender, then helped him out of the wagon and onto a chair, Moishe watching him intently, seeing the severe pain registering on Bobbys face, the mouth starting to move to complain or moan, then stopping before a sound came out, able to see that Bobby wanted to keep his eyes open but closing in pain in spite of all his inner resolve. When he was seated Moishe put a pillow behind his back and Bobby slowly eased himself against it. Moishe watched for another moment…then got his first aid supplies and equipment and laid them out on the table. He clipped magnifying lenses over his glasses and put on latex gloves before carefully examining Bobbys face, gently probing here and there, Bobby wincing or jerking, but not complaining, Moishe dabbing at areas with cotton and peroxide, cleaning little pieces of grit from some of the deeper cuts, stopping from time to time and standing erect, allowing Bobby to catch his breath and when he could see from Bobbys face that the severity of the pain had passed he continued cleaning the wounds on Bobbys face. When he finished covering everything with antiseptic, he once again stood up and looked at Bobby for a second….Youre having 2 very deep cuts. One on your cheek I can be closing with special bandage, butterfly, so maybe no scar…but would hurt having it on sore skin. Sheeit, I doan care about no scar. Maybe so, but one day maybe is different. Other one on jaw should be sewn. Is very deep. Not certain is closing with just bandage. Bobby frowned, Caint you be doin somethin? Moishe shrugged, Plumber, painter, carpenter, handyman…but no doctor. You should be going already to the hospital, let a doctor stitch your jaw. Bobby kept shaking his head, Damn, I caint be goin to no hopsital. Aint this a muthafuckin shame, I gotta be lettin some ol honky name Mushie patch me up like he be Dr. Frankenstein. Damn them spics!!!!
Moishe smiled gently at Bobby, sensitive to his dilemma and pain.
Sheeit, I dont be havin no choice.
So…Im careful Dr. Frankenstein is not making a monster already.
Bobby looked up at Moishe with the magnifying glasses over his lenses, his eyes looking monstrous. Damn, you be lookin more like Dr. Cyclops.
Moishe grinned, So…a doctors a doctor, ya?
Bobby just looked at Moishe and started to shrug, but quickly stopped, then closed his eyes as Moishe started treating his face. He carefully put the bandages on with gentle expertise, and when he finished he carefully scrutinized his work and nodded approvingly, Goot…goot. Could be maybe better if I kept open my eyes—looking at Bobby with a serious face, Bobby blinking, staring for a moment; then smiling and Moishe laughed. So…youre resting for a minute then we/re seeing how is the rest of you. Then I give to you something for the pain and you rest, ya?
Moishe separated the things that needed sterilizing, then very carefully started cutting Bobbys shirt off—Whach you doin man?! Moishe stopped, Is best way not to hurt you—Bobby staring at him—And anyway, is all torn—smiling reassuringly at Bobby—you cant be wearing it anymore. But what I be wearin man? Moishe waved his hand, I have lots of shirts…soft and clean, ya? Bobby looked down at his shirt, Yeah…guess so.
Moishe finished cutting Bobbys shirt off, then examined Bobbys torso and though there were no cuts, and Bobbys dark skin hid the severity of the bruises, it was obvious that he was basically one big bruise with some areas much worse than others. He gently touched here and there, held Bobbys ribcage with his hands and had him breathe as deep as possible, probed a few of the more severally bruised areas, eventually stepping back and smiling, So…lots of bruises but no broken bones. Lucky. Lucky?!!!! How the fuck you be sayin I lucky, Those mutha—then pain quickly silenced him.
Ya—Moishe nodding his head energetically—lucky.
Sheeit….
Moishe shrugged and continued to look at Bobby who was now paying the price for talking so energetically, for moving suddenly, Ya, lucky. No eyes cut out, no concussion, no broken head, no broken bones, no teeth knocked out, everything, good chance, okay inside….Ya, a very bad beating, but soon you be alright not dead, not busted….Moishe smiled empathetically and tenderly, a sense of gratitude flowing through him….Ya, lucky…very lucky. Bobby looked at him, and spoke slowly, quietly, Maybe so, but I be gettin them muthafuckas—the vehemence deadly, tangible—They be history man. Moishes glowing expression suddenly darkened with a profound sadness that came from so deep within him he felt as if he would pass out and he had to steady himself by leaning on the back of the chair and closing his eyes for a moment, fighting the darkness that felt as if it would not only cut off his breath, but totally consume him and spit him out as a little ball of screaming pain….Moishe had no idea how long the struggle continued, but in time he became aware of breathing and his eyes opened and he looked around at the familiar surroundings, blinked his eyes several times then looked at Bobby with love and compassion, wanting for a moment to hug him close to his chest, to gently rub his head, to soothe away all his pain, but all he could do was continue to lean against the chair until he was able to speak. Im giving you for the pain something and youll rest….Ya, rest. Moishe handed Bobby a couple of capsules and two pills and a glass of water. Bobby looked at them, then at Moishe, What you givin me man? Antibiotics and pain pills. Where you be gettin these? Bobby squinting at Moishe. From a friend…a doctor. Its alright—they looked at each other for a moment, then Moishe shrugged and his smile broadened, You think maybe its not good you dont take them…but its bad you get infection, very bad. You dont mind the pain, dont take the pills. And anyway, we can go to the hospital if you get worse, so dont take—Moishe extending his hand and Bobby tossed the pills in his mouth and drank a mouthfull of water. Moishe felt a profound sense of relief and nodded approvingly, Ya, is best.
Moishe prepared a bed for Bobby with a spare mattress on a low platform so he shouldnt hurt himself if he fell out of bed. When he came back to the kitchen he looked at Bobby for a moment as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Youre able to walk to the bedroom, or we/re using the wagon? I be walking. Bobby started wobbling to his feet and Moishe quickly grabbed his elbows and supported him. They walked slowly to the bedroom. When Bobby saw the bed with the clean sheets and pillow, he became aware of just how exhausted he really was, how deep the pain and fatigue went. Moishe eased him onto the bed, and helped him off with his shoes and pants, then covered him. You feel a chill and Im giving you more blankets. Bobby nodded slightly and stretched out, suddenly overwhelmed with how comfortable the sheets felt and how totally exhausted he was. He had been struggling for a long time to keep his eyes open and now he could close them, and keep them closed, and just go to sleep…and though he hadnt thought of it, he felt safe, in spite of everything that had happened that day, he felt safe with this weird old man who lived in this really cool apartment so deep under the ground of the most desolate part of New York City, and probably the entire country. In seconds he was asleep.
Moishe stood watching Bobby, smiling as he noticed Bobbys breathing change as he fell asleep, almost able to see the tension drain from his bruised body, relieved that there was nothing abnormal about his breathing…considering the circumstances. After a few minutes he became aware that thoughts were trying to intrude themselves into his mind so he made a more conscious effort to be aware of Bobbys breathing, but the thoughts were insistent so he left the bedroom and went to the living room and sat in his chair.
He looked at his finger tips, the design in the rug, tracing it from the center to the edges
and then around the border, tracing intricate scrolls and curlicues, trying to count the crystals of the chandelier, staring at the light as it reflected from them, trying to see hidden shapes in the clouds of a landscape on the far wall…but in time he could no longer ignore the question in his mind…in all of his being…What is this all about? Is Bobby finding his way here just a coincidence? But I dont believe in coincidence. Do I now search and hunt for meaning in this? Ahhh, such a long day. Im fuzzy. Just like Bobby….Bobby. Why is he here? Tell me. Dont be so silent. Why do you always keep such secrets? Tell me is he a curse or a blessing? Will he be gone tomorrow? Is this…me…a stop on the way from there to there? Why do I believe him? Why do I trust him? Why am I so sure hes not a thief, a gang member, a drug user or seller? O, whats the difference. Is there a real importance to all this speculation, these endless and unanswerable questions? They always lead to madness. Sometime I/ll know, but not now. Its never, now, but only later that I learn these things. Now hes here. Now Im taking care of him. Now we are both alright. Right here, right now…we/re fine. Tomorrow??? who knows???? If it comes. Maybe tomorrow wont even bother coming and Im worrying today. So I/ll leave it alone. Hes here. I did a little doctoring and hes fine….Now. And Im fine….Now!
Moishe got up and went to the kitchen and filled a bowl with ice cream and covered it with chocolate sauce, then went back to his chair.
But tomorrow always does come. So far, anyway. Who knows, tomorrow he might leave and Im worrying now. Leave? How could he leave? The day after a beating is always worse. No longer protected by shock. Really feel the pain. Just sit and hurt. Ya…just sit and hurt. So what am I, some magician? So what do you want from me? to make him better? You want him better you fix him. Im too old to do this again. No more. How many days do I have? Let them be peaceful….Yes, peaceful. Its not too much to ask. Peace. And what about him? Can I be his only source of help? Millions of people here and Im the only one? Who can believe that? Yes, yes, I know, its for me. So whats he going to teach me???? Yes, yes, I guess so…I guess I/ll find that out too, but not now.
Moishe noticed that the bowl was empty and felt a smile on his face, Life should be as easy as eating ice cream….But I dont remember eating it. Im sure it was delicious, but where was I when I ate it? So…life is a bowl of ice cream…you dont remember living it—Moishe shook his head—If only you could forget…but even if you forget you remember, no, no, no, no philosophy today….
But I thought whatever time was left would be peaceful…I sit, I read, I listen to music, I go for a walk, I ride to Prospect Park and sit under the Willow Tree, I remember, I forget, I look at pictures, I do, I do, I do…or I dont do, but its peaceful…only me…no worries.
Moishe got up and went to the kitchen and started washing his bowl, I dont mind if time flies by unnoticed while Im washing the dishes, but how long does it take to wash 2 bowls, 2 bowls??? how long since I washed anything more than one????
He wiped out the sink with a sponge, looked at the porcelain for a while, then at the bowl in the drain rack, sighed loud and long then went back to the living room and sat in his chair. The cat strolled over and sat at his feet for a moment, looking up, then tapped his leg and Moishe looked at her for a moment, then nodded his head and tapped his lap and the cat jumped up and made herself at home, turning in a few circles first, then eventually nestling into the spot she wanted, curled her tail around her and closed her eyes as Moishe rubbed her head and scratched her behind the ears, You I dont have to worry about, a rub, a scratch, food and water…and love, cant forget that, can I? I love you but I dont have to worry, its so easy to give you everything you need…and you give me so much comfort, dont you—rubbing her head with both hands and leaning over and kissing the cat on the nose, the cat opening her eyes for a moment and looking at Moishe, rubbing her nose with a paw, then closing her eyes and adjusting herself again on Moishes lap….Oh, this is craziness. In a few days…well a little longer…and he/ll be gone. What have I to do with a young boy, and what does he have to do with me? Soon, soon he/ll be better and he/ll leave and Im sitting here worrying….Oh, leave it alone…leave it alone and soon no worries like before. Peaceful.
Moishe looked down at the cat, an almost perfect circle of fur, and smiled as he rubbed her from the top of her head, down along her body, to the end of her body, the cat reflexly moving muscles, riding with the rubbing as a cork on gentle currents, then the cat stood, humped her back, stretched, turned in a few circles, then once again settled into a ball on Moishes lap.
Maria gradually awoke in the middle of the night, moaning through a narcotic haze, and pain, her eyes intermittently opening and closing as she swayed back and forth between sleep and consciousness, being dragged in both directions until her eyes stayed open and she looked around the unfamiliar room, as much as possible, her terror as well as her physical condition limiting her movement. She was aware of the glow in the hallway but couldnt remember what had happened and as the paralysis of fear twisted her she was only aware of not being home, at that moment that was the only thing she knew, and she had never been away from home before and didnt know if she was dead, and though her voice was silent from fear, within her head she screamed for her mother, her body becoming increasingly rigid the more she awakened, so she lay still, frozen, trying not to breathe, hoping she could become invisible so that whatever was near her wouldnt see her and maybe she could escape but she didnt know what she had to escape from or escape to, a terrified whimper starting deep within her, beyond the depths of her heart and she could hear and feel it grow and roar its way up from some unknown place pinching her heart, constricting her throat, twisting her windpipe and strangling her with all the agony of the darkest of nights, the most hideous fears of the human soul, the darkness that unleashes all the demons everyone who has ever walked or crawled across the planets surface has feared, the monsters defying all the angels of heaven, wrapping this little girl in their grotesque cloaks of darkness, sinking their ragged teeth and claws into her burned flesh and stripping it piece by piece, slowly and torturously, from her body and tossing her never dying body into the pits of eternal fire where cold soothing water was dripped on hot rocks so she could always see her salvation beyond reach, flaming serpents spitting tongues of fire close enough for her to feel their heat, but never touching, never bringing the relief of death…she kept crying for her mommy, mommy, her fear continuing to increase until she broke the paralysis and a faint whimper came from her throat and the sound startled her into a slight movement and she blinked her eyes several times and very carefully, very, very slowly, rolled her head to the side and as she did her memory of the day gradually opened and she remembered being on the stretcher and being treated and being put in a bed and then she almost yelled as she remembered her mother and grandmother being there with her and eventually she remembered she was in a hospital but she still didnt know what to do or where her mother was and she moved a little more as she became aware of the pain, and the whimpering became louder and low moans gurgled from her throat and now that the paralysis was broken she moved her body, twisting around in the bed yet keeping her head almost immobile, all her fear seeming to center there to protect her from increasing the pain but the more she moved, the more awake she became, the more aware of the pain, and her whimpering and moaning increased and then she started sobbing and could actually hear the word, mommy, coming from her mouth and she clutched her hands into fists, tighter and tighter and soon her moaning and restlessness awakened the woman in the bed next to her and she lay there for a moment, listening, then asked her if she needed something, but Maria was unable to speak and continued crying and sobbing, hearing the word, mommy, over and over and the woman watched her for a moment, then asked her if she wanted the nurse and when Maria continued sobbing the woman pushed the call button and in a short time a nurse came into the room and the woman told her she should check out that little girl, She sounds bad, and the nurse looked at Maria for a moment, her fingernails deeply imbedde
d in the palms of her hands, her arms rigid, her body trembling as she continued sobbing and moaning and staring up at the ceiling, You in pain? and Maria tried to say something, anything, but her throat, too, was rigid and all she could do was moan a little louder and the nurse looked a little closer and could see tears in her eyes, You in pain? and the woman in the next bed propped herself up on an elbow, Shes frightened real bad…real bad, and the nurse nodded her head and watched Maria for another moment, then took her blood pressure and left the room, returned in a moment and gave Maria an injection, then watched her until it took effect and Maria slowly opened her fists and the nurse rubbed Marias hands and legs until she stopped trembling and her muscles relaxed and she fell asleep.
Maria survived her first night in the hospital, her first night away from home.
Bobby wakened late in the morning, groggy and confused for a moment, then remembered what had happened and where he was. He realized, after a short time, that he had been laying in bed listening and wondering what was missing, then chuckled silently as he realized he was laying there listening for the scratching of the rats, but Mushie didn have no rats in his wall. Mus be plenty a rats down here, but caint nothin get in here. Sheeit, this be like a fortress an aint nobody knowin this be here…wonder why he livin down here? Crazy ol fool…but sure be a cool pad but it mus be he into somethin…I bes be gettin outta here just as soon as I can—trying to get up and falling back on the bed, every square inch of his body screaming with pain, blinking his eyes to help catch his breath, Sheeit, what the fuck be goin on, seem like everythin feels worse—checking out the different parts of his body by moving, contracting a muscle, touching…then slowly sitting up and looking at his hands and arms and then the rest of his body—like the ol fool say, I be black n blue but you caint notice the black—and he started to giggle but stopped and laid back down—what the fuck I be laughin at, I be hurtin…but I think about that crazy ol fool an I laugh…now what the fuck that be all about. Mus be his craziness rub off on me—Bobby smiled and slowly raised his arms and reached over his head and tapped the wall and smiled broader when there was no response. He was slowly lowering his arms when Moishe came into the room.
The Willow Tree: A Novel Page 4