He sat up and headed toward the kitchen with the bowl.
I’m losing my mind.
He threw the bowl into the sink, where it made home with the other dishes. Axel had almost used up every clean piece of glass in the apartment now. He’d be forced to do the dishes soon. The thought nagged him. Pieces of crumbs and food covered the dishes and took away their sparkling shine, giving them a depressing look. They laid in a mess, stacked on each other in a pile that was straighter at the bottom, but more crooked toward the top. The pile of dishes mocked him.
“This is your life,” they seemed to say. “It was off to a good start but lately it’s been crooked. And, young Axel, it will continue to grow more crooked until balance finally wears out and destruction occurs. This is the image of your life. You will fall. Hell, you’re pretty much already dancing on the edge of balance, with little time to recover. Last night proves that, last night—“
Last night, Axel thought. He had to catch his body from falling with the help of the counter. He felt as if he had been shot with a bullet not full of led and gunpowder, but with overwhelming emotion. His body sank toward the floor, feeling heavy. Emotions bloomed, recovering harsh memories, crippling his legs. His eyes turned to every corner of his vision, desperately searching for some kind of remedy. Axel sat on the floor, his body limp, appearing to be asleep. He slammed his head backward against an empty drawer—a hollow sound. Another reminder, he thought, and his face molded into one of a child on the brink of crying. Hand, hollow and numb, a piece of rubbery skin with no context, went into his front pocket to dig out his phone. It seemed heavier than usual; colder, too, as if Axel had slipped into another dimension with a different weather climate. He scrolled through his contact list, having to look through it more than once because of the blur from his tears. He finally found his mother and dialed her personal number. The dial tone, loud in his ear, echoed electric context into his head. It almost became unbearable until his mother picked up the phone.
“Axel! Hey! It’s so good to hear from you. How are things? Are you feeling better?” The happiness and excitement in her voice shouldn’t have been another reminder of his current state, but it was. He felt isolated from the world, on another side of a spiritual fence, alone and watchful.
“Hey, Ma,” he said in a just-woke-up-voice. He sounded tired and worn-out. “Things aren’t very good, to be honest. I miss you, and I miss the family.” His lips began to tremble and he started to rock back and forth against the drawers.
“Axel, what’s wrong?” The excitement in her voice had been replaced with surprise and a hint of fear.
Axel said nothing.
“Axel, talk to me, please.”
“I haven’t been feeling well lately. I don’t really want to go into detail about it right now. I called to say that I miss you and that I want to see all of you again soon. There are a couple of things—“
He took a deep breath.
“—there are a couple of things that I want to get off my chest. I know that I’ve been quiet and stuff, and there’s a reason for that. I want to open up. I’ve realized that I can’t keep this to myself anymore.”
“We have noticed something going on with you, Axel, yes. None of us thought that your faint the other day was a fluke. I’ve wanted to talk to you about this, but I never wanted to apply unnecessary pressure on you. I’ve learned through marriage that pressuring someone into conversation can turn them off from the topic at hand altogether. Susanne has mentioned you a few times. Even Duncan has expressed concern. But, Axel, we are here for you. We always will be. And, let me tell you that it makes me very happy that you are prepared to talk about it because we are prepared to listen. We care, Axel. I love you very much, and your brother and sister love you, as well. Emma loves you.”
Axel burst into tears now. He wanted to speak, but couldn’t. His breathing turned heavy and rough. If he dared to speak now, it would almost be inaudible.
“Axel, hey—it’s okay.” He heard her chair creek as she stood up. Her voice embraced great sympathy, soft and lighter in pitch. “I had no idea that it was this bad. Axel, do you think that you need help?” There was a pause, then: “Professionally, I mean?”
The question had surprised him so much that he swallowed his heavy breathing. Salty tears that had made their way into his mouth, rushed down his throat. His tongue tasted as if it had been dipped in saltwater. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, feeling the cold air of motion interact with the moisture on his face. My depression is taking care of me, Axel thought with a shudder. The cold touch of the darkness surrounding him: in the air, in the objects, in himself—now upon him. He longed for hugs from his family. He longed for their warmth. God, any hug would do. He actually craved a hug. He brought his knees up, slinging his arm around one and resting the side of his face against it. The phone, which had grown heated, rested on the other side of his face. He didn’t have to hold it. Axel somewhat gathered himself.
“I don’t think so. If we can find a good one, then perhaps I will. I hear that the medication used to treat sadness or whatever makes your mind not only numb to sadness, but to other emotions, as well. I guess I’m afraid that it will affect my creativity to an extent. “
“But Axel,” she began. The infamous but that all mothers master into their vocabulary whenever their logic is needed. “I don’t know how serious this is. But if you need help, then you must get help. You should save yourself rather than your creativity. Besides, your creativity won’t be banished from the planet. If it does indeed get affected, and I mean if, then it will still return down the line when you start to feel better.”
Axel smiled. Mother knows best.
“You’re right. I just don’t want to make any rushed decisions right now. I have a show to do tonight, and right now that’s all I want to focus on. Can all of us please meet soon after the show and discuss this together?”
“Axel, listen to me.” Her tone changed. It turned serious and weaved in and out of sadness. “If something happens to you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. And neither would Duncan or Susanne. You helped them through rough times, and you helped me. I don’t know if you realize it or not, but the way you always made us smile—we remember that. Duncan met his wife by using one of your jokes. She fell out of her chair. Did you know that?”
Both of them were smiling now. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s true! I guess he was too embarrassed to tell you.”
“Maybe he still has that competitive side to him. We always used to compete as kids, right?”
“You sure did.”
“Yeah, I have fond memories of those times, as a kid. I felt like I could take on the whole world. The amount of energy I had was incredible.”
“We all have fond memories of those times. I still keep in contact with some of your teachers; they always say wonderful things about you, and they watch your shows.”
Axel smiled again, and then there occurred a brief silence on both ends.
“So,” Axel breathed. “Why don’t I call you sometime tomorrow and we’ll start planning another dinner?”
“Yes! That sounds great. I’ll be available all day.”
“I’ll talk to you later, mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, Axel.”
The call ended in smiles from both parties. For the first time in a long time, Axel had something to look forward to. He actually felt kind of good. His faint had somehow brought him closer to his family. He realized that they did care for him, regardless of what his depression whispered. He still felt somewhat uncomfortable around them, but with time, things would change.
I’ll surprise Emma, too. A day or so after the show, I’ll visit them, and surprise them. I’ll call Susanne tomorrow to see if they’re available.
Axel stood up. He forced himself to do the dishes. Whilst dishing, not taking his good mood for granted, he started to sing. He told himself that after the dishes, he would clean. Oh yes, he woul
d clean. He would especially clean that damn TV. After cleaning, he would make the final preparations for the show. Today might even be a good day.
Axel Gardner didn’t know it then, but soon he would realize that he might’ve just heard his mother’s voice for the last time.
Chapter Three
Claudia
1
A mirror reflected traces of anxiety on his skin. He didn’t know if the glistening in his hair had been caused by shampoo or his sweat. Still, Axel felt rather good. He supposed that the conversation with his mother had planted seeds of joy in the soil of his mind. Some of those seeds were growing, but they would never reach their full potential. Depression still lingered.
Axel felt great relief in knowing that his family didn’t judge him for his issues. All of them had expressed concern. His mind marked that thought as a lie, but Axel ignored it. They had been worried, Axel told himself. Even in their own joy, they had been worried. He walked closer to the mirror, observing the details on his face. He opened his mouth and tried to find the best angle on his missing tooth. He had lost a tooth in the upper jaw, somewhere in the middle between his front and back teeth.
That looks terrible.
Axel reminded himself that it would make a good joke. He stepped backward, brushed the shoulders of his shirt, and tried to paint a large smile. A man poked his head out of the doorframe. He wore a headset, which only covered one ear.
“Ten minutes, Axel,” the man said.
Axel sucked in all the air his mouth could hold and exhaled.
Here we go, champ. It’s showtime.
You know it.
2
On his walk toward the stage, Axel heard himself swallow. He felt saliva mold into a ball, irritating his throat. Anxiety had sucked his throat dry of moisture, and he felt the saliva slide down his inner flesh, leaving a skid mark of warm liquid. It slid down every step of the way into his stomach, where a war had started. Emotions swung around on his intestines. The weight of their depth felt heavier with every step toward the stage. These emotions had guns, which shot feelings of nausea and anxiety, penetrating every organ, and every vein. The veins, in return, carried these terrible feelings of hellfire into Axel’s bloodstream, taking the war from his stomach and spreading it throughout his entire body. The human body is full of water, but during this walk, Axel felt full of mud. It surprised him that the floor didn’t crack beneath his feet. Physical nausea slowly obliterated his positivity. Nerves inside of him pulsated as if they had a heart of their own, and that heart rocked out, drumming harder and with more weight than ever before.
The world started to spin. The corridor felt crooked. Sweat rained down from his hairline, down his oily skin. As Axel approached the stairs, which would place him in front of a massive black curtain, he used the sleeve of his shirt to try and make his face somewhat presentable. He paced back and forth in front of the gigantic curtain. The announcer welcomed everyone. Her voice crackled with electricity through the microphone and out of the speakers. The applause of the audience first echoed the theater, and then they echoed inside of his head, where they remained for a long time. His chest went up and down in long, slow phases. His lungs were clogged with mud. Nausea vibrated with thuds inside his temples. Axel felt horrible. Axel felt—
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the man you’ve all been waiting for. I give you the host of Seed of Comedy, AXEL GARDNER!”
The black curtains parted in the middle. Light marked his face. A round of applause stung the air. Whistles from people who stood up from their seats pierced his heart. Slowly, the applause settled down, with a few claps remaining as lone survivors. People were heard coughing and adjusting their seats. Silence crept into the room. Round eyes gleamed and focused on Axel. They targeted him with their focus and concentration. The announcer turned toward him, her face now away from the stage lights, hidden in shadow. She smiled, and a dark filter surrounded her face. It made her smile seem sinister. Axel thought of his reflection on the TV screen. For a moment, Axel Gardner thought that he saw his depression again, smiling at him, handing him the microphone. Good luck, that smile said. With the announcer now behind the curtain, Axel stood alone on stage, microphone in hand. The microphone seemed like a foreign object to him. He raised it toward his dry lips. He gathered saliva and swallowed.
“Thank you for that warm welcome.” Axel tried his best to display a real smile. He raised his hand and waved at the audience. Among the seats, brief laughter could be heard. Axel hadn’t even said anything funny yet.
They’re laughing at my appearance.
“Let’s see,” Axel said. He tapped his shoes together. He glanced over the audience, observing. With ease, he spotted a man wearing blue, staring at the floor. He even had blue gloves. Axel gave a brief smile. He started to trace around the stage with confident eyes, concentrating on his focus-point.
“Some of you may have noticed something different about me. Yes, I have gotten uglier, and I’m not fully blaming that on my missing tooth.”
Laughter started on the left, growing more and more toward the right like a wave of sound. “Should I tell you what happened?” The top of the microphone touched his lips, giving his voice deep and loud vocals.
Someone in the audience screamed “YEAH!”
Another one went “WOOOOOO!”
“Here’s the deal,” Axel said. “I’m actually not funny. All of my jokes are written by another comedian who I keep in a sacred place. So, yesterday I walk into this sacred place to meet this comedian because I needed jokes for today’s show. My vacation was over, you know, and I had to go back to working again. Well, anyway, my victim finally decided to give a fight and I lost a tooth. Don’t worry, though.” The microphone touched his lips again. “He lost his life.”
About half of the audience laughed. Some clapped with their heads tilted back. “This means that I had to write my own jokes for today’s show. And, with confidence, I say to you that I don’t even need a comedian to write me jokes anymore. Just listen to this.”
Axel stood in place and pulled a clumsy act, which involved him barely holding on to the microphone and reaching into the front pocket of his shirt to pull out a crumpled note.
This was followed by another “WOOOOOO!” and Axel held up a finger to make it clear that he was about to read the note. Whilst glancing over his writing, he couldn’t help but chuckle and the audience chuckled with him.
“What happened to Claudia, who died and went to heaven?” Axel asked.
Voices rumbled, and Axel couldn’t make out any of them. For the first time during the show, he left his focus-point—who still stared at the floor—and focused his vision from every corner of the audience. His vision darted right, left, up and down, until it became clear that this wouldn’t work with everyone shouting their answer.
Axel held up his hand. “Alright, alright,” he said in a rapid tone. He raised the microphone to his mouth in tension, preparing to give the answer.
“She became…Cloud-ea.”
Someone in the audience coughed.
The room turned completely silent. Axel’s blood turned into lava. He started shaking, when suddenly, the entire audience burst out laughing. Some of them slammed their hands against their legs. A few of them looked as if they were about to die. Axel actually found that image to be quite disturbing.
Chris’s blue gloves were soft and muffled inside the sea of claps.
The show went on for fifty more minutes. At the end, Axel thanked everyone for coming. The audience greeted him with another applaud; the loudest one by far. For the last time, his eyes left their focus-point and, with surprise, Axel felt comfortable watching over the audience. His insides were pumped with joy as he saw their smiles. Although, the air of joy seemed to have been pumped with a bicycle pump, for there wasn’t much of it. Axel still struggled with doubt. But, Axel thought that every little bit helps, and he felt grateful for even having an essence of joy. Axel’s body brimmed with relief. He wo
uld now focus on getting straight with his family and—maybe—get the help he needed. In this moment, his future didn’t contain pure blackness; there existed spots of light among that black, like stars on a night of restful sleep.
3
Axel headed toward his car, parked down the street from the theater, with a head held high and an element of life in his walk. He had signed papers and shaken hands with people as he walked out, but everyone who had an interest in meeting him then was now gone, heading home. Or so he thought.
As he stood by the door of his car, he spotted a familiar figure of blue sitting on the curb. When Axel’s shoes stopped their clicking against the concrete, Chris turned his head to face him. In the darkness of the approaching night, Axel could barely see Chris’s face. He resembled a blue blanket more than an actual human.
Chris stood up, not bothering to brush off the dirt. He walked toward the comedian. “Chris Michael is my name. Do we have an appointment?” He fashioned a wide smile. His teeth were the only glimmer in the night; his eyes were dark, empty.
“Hi, Chris,” Axel said, flabbergasted. “We don’t have an appointment, no.”
Chris’s smile widened. “But we do.”
Axel looked around in disbelief. “What do you mean, Chris? Is everything okay here?”
Chris waved the reply away with his hand. “Everything is splendid! The show was absolutely terrific. I just want to repay you for inviting me here and giving me the laugh of a lifetime. Say, how would you like to get that tooth fixed? I’m free tomorrow at eleven. All you have to do is call my office and say that you would like to book an appointment with me.”
Axel’s uncomfortable feelings melted away, piece by piece. They were replaced by genuine surprise.
Blue Anesthesia Page 6