by Rita Ewing
Then she rushed to his desk and dialed nine-one-one. “Help, please … my friend collapsed.”
“Nona, what’s wrong?” Isaac asked as he ran into the office.
“I don’t know,” she said to Isaac, even though she could hear the operator asking her questions. “We were … talking and he just fell down.” She handed the phone to Isaac and returned to Allen’s side.
His eyes were now closed, but there was a slight dampness under both lids, as if tears were trying to seep through. With her thumb she wiped the water away and felt the heat of him.
“Isaac,” she screamed. “He’s burning up.”
Isaac pulled the phone off the desk and knelt beside her. “The paramedics are on their way, Nona. Don’t worry.”
“How can you say that?” Nona cried. “Look at him.”
Isaac looked up as Sarah rushed into the office.
“Nona, what happened?”
“I don’t know.” She was sobbing now. “We were talking and he just dropped to the floor.”
Isaac hung up the phone. “The paramedics are right outside. I’m going to show them in.” He stood. “Sarah, stay here.” He pushed through the crowd that had formed at the door. “Stand back,” he yelled. “We’ve got to let the EMTs through.”
“He’s going to be all right, Nona,” Sarah tried to assure her. “He’s healthy, he’s strong.”
Her words meant nothing to Nona as she held her unconscious friend.
What happened? She was speaking to him, screaming, declaring that she wanted him out of her life.
She remembered the horror in his eyes. The way he had backed away from her. And then he dropped to the floor.
She closed her eyes. “Please, God. Make him well.”
The office door slammed against the wall as the paramedics pulled a stretcher through.
“Step back,” the male emergency worker said.
Sarah stood, but Isaac had to help Nona move away.
The female paramedic asked, “What happened here?”
The words were stuck in Nona’s throat.
Isaac looked at Nona, but when she remained quiet, he said, “Ah, he collapsed.”
“What was he doing?”
Nona closed her eyes. “He was just talking. Then he fainted. There were no signs. Nothing.”
When her tears started, Isaac hugged her.
“He’s going to be fine, Nona,” he said.
Nona knew Isaac was just trying to say the right thing. It was what everyone told anyone who had illness in the family. “It’s going to be fine.”
But all she had to do was look at Allen and know that those words weren’t true.
She paced behind the emergency workers as the man took Allen’s blood pressure, pulse, and temperature and announced the results to the woman, who jotted numbers onto a chart.
“Can’t we do all of that at the hospital?” Nona asked. “We have to get him to a doctor.”
“We can’t move until we take his vitals.”
Only minutes passed, although it seemed like days to Nona before they rolled Allen onto the stretcher. “Okay, we’re on our way.”
Nona grabbed her purse and rushed behind the paramedics. “I’m going with you,” she said as she pushed through the crowd that gathered in the hall.
The whispers bombarded her ears, and she wanted to scream at all of them–telling them to go away. They didn’t care about Allen. No one cared for him the way she did.
I dont want to have anything to do with you.
Her last words to him came to her mind. She closed her eyes, willing those thoughts to go away.
Outside, another crowd had formed. The paramedics lifted the stretcher into the back of the ambulance, and Nona tried to climb in.
“You’ll have to ride up front, Ms. Simms,” the paramedic said, recognizing Nona. “We’ve got to do everything by the book these days.”
She wanted to argue, tell him that Allen needed to hold her hand, hear her voice. But there was no time. She jumped into the front passenger seat. The emergency vehicle sped uptown to Harlem Hospital. She twisted, but there was no way to see what was happening in the back. All she heard was the radio transmitter, and numbers being uttered back and forth. She closed her eyes and pleaded with God.
In the emergency room parking lot, Nona ran behind the paramedics. She was oblivious to the gradual crescendo of shouts and stares as people rushed through the parked cars trying to get a better glimpse of Nona. She tried to see Allen’s face, but the oxygen mask hid even his eyes. She followed as a doctor met them inside, but she was stopped as Allen was taken through the large double doors into the emergency room.
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to stay here,” an emergency room nurse said.
Her eyes protested.
The nurse put her hand on Nona’s shoulder. “We’re going to need some information. Can you help us with that?”
Nona nodded, and the nurse motioned toward a private waiting area. “You can sit in there, and I’ll bring the papers to you.”
Nona sat in a chair at the edge of the room. Through the door, she could hear that life was continuing. Cast members of The Young and the Restless yelled at one another on the television bolted to the table in the corner. A toddler cried as she fought to wiggle from her mother’s lap. A woman spoke loudly, angrily, trying to explain to the admitting personnel that she had no insurance but she felt sick enough to die.
Nona stuffed her hands into her sweat suit pockets and closed her eyes, but she opened them a moment later. She couldn’t stay inside her head–where the images reminded her.
I dont want to have anything to do with you.
What if Allen died? she thought. What if those were the last words he’d ever hear from her? She shook her head. Allen was sick, but it wasn’t that serious. It couldn’t be.
Nona sat, waiting. Minutes later, she jumped up. She couldn’t sit still another second. She walked into the hallway. Around her, token signs of the holidays hung from the ceiling–cutouts of sorry-looking, two-color turkeys and silly-looking men dressed as Pilgrims. Nona guessed that the dangling shapes were supposed to bring a bit of holiday comfort and joy to people overcome with worry about the health of their loved ones.
But she felt no joy; and she had to hold back the rising fear inside her that screamed to be released. She looked at the television. Now it was The Bold and the Beautiful, where people screamed from the corner of the room. As she waited, the soap operas changed, although the tribulations were all the same.
Here in the emergency room, Nona Simms was just a regular person. Every few minutes, Nona walked in front of the admitting window, hoping that someone would remember that she was there. For the first time since she’d become a household name, she craved the attention she had grown to despise. Every so often she would ask if a doctor was going to take the time and speak with her about Allen Wade.
“We’ll call you as soon as we know anything,” was all she was told in that tone hospital personnel used when they wanted to convey that you had crossed the line and were now an annoyance.
The sitting and waiting was driving her beyond crazy. She couldn’t use her cell phone and she didn’t see any public phones.
But there was no way she could leave. If it meant waiting another one hundred hours, she would be here for Allen.
“Nona.”
She wanted to collapse as Leila ran toward her. They held each other for several moments.
“I was at the gym. I’ve been there for hours and then in the locker room, I heard someone say Allen fainted. I couldn’t believe it. What happened?”
They sat and held each other’s hands.
“I don’t know anything yet. We were in his office …” Nona paused. She couldn’t tell anyone what happened–what she’d said to Allen just before he’d fallen to his knees. “We were talking.”
“It can’t be too serious,” Leila said as if she wouldn’t accept any other conclusion. “He’s so healthy.”
The image of her friend lying on the floor–ashen, taking shallow breaths, with skin so hot that it almost burned when she touched him–flickered through her mind.
“He’s so healthy,” Leila repeated, needing to hear those words aloud again.
“Ms. Simms.”
Both Nona and Leila stood at the voice. Nona recognized the six-foot-seven, bald, clean-shaven doctor whom she was sure was often mistaken for Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. The doctor had treated Allen years before for his steroid use and had even advised Nona on how she could be an asset in Allen’s healing.
“Dr. Sawyer?”
He nodded, but there was no smile in his greeting.
“How’s Allen?” Nona and Leila asked together.
The doctor motioned for the two to follow him. They walked through the double doors where Nona had been stopped hours before. Inside, the oversized room was divided into rows of cubicles by sheets of cloth that hung from the ceiling. The sounds and smells of a hospital filled the space. As they passed the compartments, Nona searched for Allen, but there was no sign of him. That made her heart pound.
The doctor stopped in front of a small room and led Nona and Leila inside. Dr. Sawyer sat behind the desk.
“How’s Allen?” Nona asked again as she sat in front of him.
“It’s best to be honest,” the doctor began.
Her heart was already beating fast, but now she was sure it would burst through her chest.
“It appears Allen is having an adverse reaction to steroids.”
Nona’s mouth opened wide. “Steroids? Doctor, you know he stopped using years ago.” It was something that Allen had fought hard to overcome. He’d been using steroids for years–from the moment he decided he wanted to be a fitness trainer. At that time, the industry was so competitive that being fit wasn’t good enough–you had to look fit. The major gyms didn’t hire anyone who didn’t have the body of a Greek god. And although he had fought hard not to even start, it wasn’t until Allen began using steroids and the muscles began to bulge in his arms and legs that the gyms began to look at him. The offers poured in. Allen looked the part.
But then the news came that steroids killed. And Allen tried to stop. But willpower alone was not enough. He was addicted and needed a doctor’s help. So with all that Allen had gone through, Nona was sure there was no way he’d start using what he called “death drugs” again.
“Allen came to me two weeks ago,” the doctor continued, interrupting Nona’s thoughts. “He’s been using drugs again.” The doctor paused when Nona and Leila gasped. “It’s not what you think. He was abusing again, but to Allen, it was medicinal.”
Nona frowned.
Leila asked, “What do you mean?”
The doctor sighed. “I wish he had come to me sooner. But you know how long he was using steroids before. Well, over time, steroids will take its toll on the body, and Allen was suffering from major pain to his joints and muscles. That’s why he started using the drugs again.”
“I don’t understand,” Nona said. “If the steroids caused the pain, why would he be using them again?”
“It’s strange, but to make it simple, the pain he’s been suffering was caused by his long-term abuse. But the only relief he could find came from using those same drugs. Steroids alleviated the pain that came from steroids.”
Nona glanced at Leila, and they both shook their heads.
“It’s complicated. Just know that the new drugs he put into his system may have alleviated some of his pain, but worsened his condition.”
“Okay,” Nona said slowly. “So he has to fight this, just like he did years ago. We can help him.”
Leila nodded. “We did it before.”
The doctor said, “Allen’s been moved into intensive care.” He stopped, knowing those six words said much more. “His prognosis isn’t good. All of his major internal organs have been adversely affected.”
Leila gasped.
“What’s wrong with him specifically?” Nona asked.
“We’re not sure yet. We’ve done a lot of tests, and we’re going to be looking at a number of things.”
Nona could tell that the doctor knew more, but she didn’t want to know. Not now. Not yet. “Can we see him?” The question squeaked through her throat.
The doctor looked at his watch. “It will be a couple of hours. We’re trying to stabilize him. You probably won’t be able to see him until very late tonight, and I would really recommend waiting until the morning. Even then, I don’t know if he’ll be conscious.”
Nona felt as if she were barely conscious herself as the doctor stood and led them back to the waiting area. He handed Nona a card. “Call me if you have any questions. You can have me paged if I’m not here.”
She could feel the tears beginning to rise inside her, so she only nodded and watched the doctor turn back to the emergency room.
“Nona, what are we going to do?”
She’d forgotten that Leila was with her, and she thanked God she wasn’t alone. They held each other for long minutes, saying nothing aloud, but screaming their prayers to God inside.
They held hands as they walked to the parking lot. Inside Leila’s car, they stayed silent as Leila drove Nona back to Brickhouse.
In front of the club, Leila whispered, “Nona, do you think Allen could die?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said because that was the only thing she could accept. She remembered what everyone had said to her today and then she uttered those same words. “He’s strong. He’s healthy. He’s going to be fine.”
Leila nodded, needing to believe her friend.
Nona put her hand on the car door, but then let go. “Leila, could you do me a favor and take me home?”
Leila looked at her for a moment, and her eyes filled with tears. She nodded.
The silence returned between them, and when Leila stopped her Mercedes in front of Nona’s brownstone, they hugged, holding each other for several minutes.
“I’ll call you,” was all Nona could say before she got out of the car.
Nona stood on her steps and watched Leila speed up the street, heading back to New Jersey, and getting as far away from all this pain as she could.
Nona sighed and turned to her front door. It was time to break the news to Kelly.
* * *
“Mom.” Kelly ran to Nona the moment she stepped through the door. “Allen’s sick,” she cried.
Nona dropped her purse to the floor and held Kelly in her arms. “Honey, how did you find out?”
“I asked Odessa to stop at Brickhouse on the way home from Dr. Rutherford’s office to surprise you, and Isaac told us. I wanted to go to the hospital,” Kelly continued through her sobs, “but Odessa wouldn’t let me.”
“I didn’t think you’d want her at the hospital,” Odessa said as she joined them in the anteroom. “It’s so sad, Ms. Nona. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you, Odessa.”
“I’m going to make dinner.”
Nona nodded as Odessa walked away. She took Kelly’s hand and led her into the living room. They sat on the couch, and Nona wiped away Kelly’s tears with her fingers.
Kelly said, “I wanted to call you but I knew you couldn’t use your cell phone in the hospital. I didn’t want to do anything that could make Allen sicker.”
“Oh, honey, you could never do that.” She hugged her daughter again.
“Mom, what happened?”
There it was–the question that brought the image back again. Her screaming. Allen’s shock. His fall to the floor.
It wasn’t you, Nona. It was the steroids, she said to herself. To Kelly, she said, “We’re not sure what happened yet, but the doctors are taking very good care of him.”
Her assurances did not end Kelly’s tears.
“I’m scared, Mom.”
Nona squeezed her hand. “There’s no need to be because Allen’s going to get well, and when he gets out of the hospital, we’re going to be here to take care
of him.”
“Will he stay with us for a little while?”
“I don’t know yet. But whatever we have to do, we’ll do, okay?”
Kelly nodded. “I know one thing I could do.” She paused. “I’m going to pray … a lot.”
Nona leaned back against the couch cushions and held Kelly in her arms the way she used to when her daughter woke in the middle of the night screaming from a bad dream. This had to be as frightening as any nightmare Kelly ever had. Nona wiped the constant tears from Kelly’s face, and wished she could wipe away the ones that were in her heart. But she knew that would be difficult. Kelly and Allen had been close since Kelly was a toddler. He was much more than her mother’s friend and had been more of a father to her than Nona’s ex-husband had ever been. But most importantly, he was Kelly’s buddy. Nona was sure Kelly and Allen discussed things that she was not privy to. And that was fine with her. She trusted Allen, knowing he was there for both of them.
The image of Tracie and her words rushed into Nona’s head and she shook her head to keep all those thoughts away. All that mattered now was that Allen recovered.
The doorbell chimes rang through the apartment, and Nona frowned. But then her heart hammered in her chest as she imagined Dr. Sawyer standing on her doorstep with news of Allen’s demise.
“Stay here, sweetie,” she said to Kelly. “Let me get the door.”
Nona took a deep breath, peeked through the peephole, and then exhaled.
“Derrick,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“May I come in?”
She stepped aside. “Of course.” She closed the door behind him and led him into the living room.
“Mr. Carter.” Kelly ran to him, her eyes still filled with tears.
He knelt down and held her. “I’m so sorry to hear about Allen,” he said, still holding Kelly, but looking at Nona. “I heard he collapsed at the gym.”
Nona nodded.
Kelly leaned away from him. “But Mom says he’s going to be okay,” she said, still sobbing.
“I’m sure he will be.”
This time it was Derrick who led Kelly to the couch. “Does anyone know what happened?”
That question … haunting her.