A More Perfect Union

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  “The hospital tried to reach you,” Oscar said. “Then they called me—I guess they found our numbers in his wallet.”

  “My phone battery died, and later I was too drunk to check it.” Alex was beating himself up inside. This was his fault. His and no one else’s. “I’m so glad you were here for him. I saw your texts this morning.”

  “Gio and I go way back, to when we first volunteered together at Wingspan a decade ago. There’s one more thing…,” Oscar said.

  “It can’t get any worse. Can it?” Alex looked at Gio, so small and fragile and broken on the hospital bed.

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Oscar stroked his thick beard. “They called his mother.”

  CINZIA MONTANARI and Alex had a complicated relationship.

  Well, maybe not so complicated, Alex mused. She hates me with a passion.

  In her mind, Alex had committed three unforgivable sins.

  First and foremost, he was gay. Gio’s mother had an almost unrivaled commitment to the Catholic Church and all that it embodied. Although she’d known Alex for going on ten years, her opinion on the whole gay thing had remained unchanged… yet somehow Gio seemed to get a pass on that one.

  Second, Alex had taken away her beautiful little boy. Gio would always be her bel bambino—and no one came between an Italian mother and her son. It was a cliché, but for a reason.

  And third, Alex had kept Gio in America. Gio had been due to return to Italy after a two-year program as a visiting professor with the University of Arizona, but once they had met, Gio extended his stay indefinitely. Although it had at least as much to do with the university offering Gio a permanent position as it did with their relationship, at least initially, Cinzia Montanari would not be swayed. She still hated him.

  Her last name meant “from the mountain,” and she was as immovable as one.

  As Alex sat holding his partner’s hand, he thought about the trips back to the bel paese—the beautiful country. They had visited Gio’s family three times over the last ten years to try to calm the waters. With little success. Two of those trips had ended in shouted curses and one in thrown pieces of pottery.

  And now, for the first time, la signora Montanari was on her way here to the United States.

  It was too much for him to think about right now.

  He held Gio’s hand and caressed the back of it gently, where the skin was not burned, with his other hand. The doctor had been by to discuss Gio’s condition an hour or two earlier. It was hard to keep track of the passage of time in here. The big clock on one wall said it was already four, but Alex didn’t believe it. He’d gotten here close to nine, and surely seven hours couldn’t have passed already.

  There was no visible response from Gio. The doctor said his body had gone into a coma to allow itself time to recover and heal. Gio’s worst burns were on his forearms and shins. The firefighters had found him huddled in a corner of the kitchen, with his back to the wall and his arms wrapped over his head for protection.

  Alex’s heart was breaking, over and over again, to see his beautiful Gio like this. To know he hadn’t been there to protect him. He wished with all his might to turn back the clock and do the last night over. But time, always eager to rush forward, refused to turn back.

  The doctor had said he had no idea how long the coma might last. Gio’s MRI had come back clean, so the doctor didn’t think there was any permanent brain damage. He hoped it would only be a week or two until Gio wakened, but in some cases comas could continue for years.

  Alex didn’t know how he would bear years.

  The door opened, and Oscar popped his head into the room. “Hey, Alex,” he whispered. “I just got back from my afternoon youth session at the center. I can sit with him for a few minutes.”

  Alex shook his head. “I don’t want to leave him.”

  Oscar sat next to him, pulling up a chair. “The doctor said he’s stable. Your job right now is to take care of yourself so you will be here for him when he wakes up. Go eat something. I’ll be here, and I’ll text you if anything happens.”

  Alex looked at Oscar and then over at Gio, uncertain. Surprisingly, he was hungry. “I don’t know….”

  “Do you trust me?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Go. I’ll take care of Gio.”

  “Okay.” Alex stood, unsteady on his feet because his left leg had gone to sleep. “Where’s the cafeteria?”

  “Down the hall that way, make a left. You’ll see the sign.”

  Alex bent over to kiss Gio lightly on the forehead. “Oscar’s gonna take care of you now for a couple minutes,” he whispered. “I love you, Gio.”

  He would make it quick.

  GIO SAT on the floor. At least he assumed it was the floor. It was white. Everything was white. The ceiling, the walls, the floor. His breath.

  “Hello?”

  The atmosphere muffled the word like a thick mist, although it wasn’t cold or damp. He stood, putting his hand out in front of him. It disappeared about a foot away, enveloped by the strange thick air.

  He was naked.

  His right hand was warm, as if someone was holding it, but when he brought it up to eye level, there was nothing else there.

  “Is anyone out there?” he called again. As before, his words were muffled.

  The room seemed to press down on him like layers of soft cloth, pushing in on all sides. His heart beat faster, and he struggled to breathe. He started to panic. He was trapped, boxed in on all sides. He could die here.

  And then he realized he couldn’t even remember his own name.

  He jumped up and pushed forward into the bright murk, trying to run. But the bonds of the white air seemed to tighten around his arms and legs. It was like running underwater.

  He was going to drown here.

  He redoubled his efforts, but the air pushed back harder.

  Then he felt something else. Warmth suffused his forehead, and a disembodied voice spoke clearly to him.

  Oscar’s gonna take care of you now for a couple minutes. I love you, Gio.

  Of course! He remembered. He did have a name.

  It was Gio.

  ALEX FOUND a quiet table in the corner of the sterile cafeteria. The room was painted a pale green, broken only by the wide picture window that looked out at the campus to the west and the distant Tucson Mountains. The sun was edging toward the horizon.

  He picked out a premade egg salad sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of orange juice. He wolfed down the sandwich, though it tasted like cardboard and paste, and chased it down with the juice. His hunger started to subside.

  The place was practically empty. Only two other tables were occupied, which suited Alex because he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He polished off the apple and stepped out into the hall.

  First he called work, explained the situation, and told his boss he’d need some time off. Liz was aghast at what had happened and promised to find someone to cover Alex’s clients.

  Then he made a call to their insurance agent. “Hi, Janis,” he said, finding a bench to sit on. “It’s Alex Gutierrez.”

  “Hey, Alex! Good to hear from you. How are you guys?”

  Alex took a deep breath. “Gio is….” His voice broke. He couldn’t finish the sentence. “Gio is—”

  “Alex, where are you?”

  “At the hospital.”

  “What happened? Is Gio… is he okay?”

  Alex shook his head, even though he was aware that she couldn’t see him. “He’s not. He’s in a coma.”

  “Oh my God.” There was a long pause. “What happened?” she asked finally.

  Alex closed his eyes. “The house burned down. He was there. I… wasn’t.” He waited for her judgment.

  Instead, she snapped into business mode. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll get someone over there to survey the damage. You don’t worry about that. We can talk about it later.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you have someone ther
e to help you? Someone who can run errands or make calls or whatever?”

  “Our friend Oscar is here.”

  “That’s good. Ask him to call some of your other friends. You’re going to need support to get through this. How about family—anyone close by?”

  “No, just my mother, but she’s at Saguaro Hills.”

  “Okay. If you need me to arrange a hotel room, just let me know.”

  “I think I’ll stay here, at least until I know more.”

  “Sure. Listen to me, Alex. You guys are going to get through this.” Her voice took on a more personal tone. “You are strong together, but right now, Gio needs you to be strong for him.”

  Alex nodded. “I know. I’m just not sure I can. I’m going crazy here. I don’t know what to do for him.”

  “That’s okay. Tell you what. Can you get some paper and a pen?”

  He frowned. “Right now?”

  “No, after we talk.”

  “Yes, I think so.” What did she want him to do, write a letter?

  “Okay. I want you to start making a list of all the things you guys owned in that house. It’ll help keep you busy, and we’ll need it when you file the claim.”

  He thought it over. “I can do that.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you once I hear back from the adjuster about the house. And Alex?”

  “What?”

  “Hang in there.”

  ALEX SAT in Gio’s room, staring at him. The sheet over Gio’s chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. Oscar had gone home a couple of hours earlier, promising to “rally the troops” for the next day.

  The clock said it was almost 9:00 p.m. Alex looked down at the yellow legal pad he’d procured at the hospital gift store. He’d started jotting down the things that were in the living room, but his heart wasn’t in it. So far, he had:

  couch

  rug

  love seat

  TV

  His mind drew a blank beyond that.

  He knew this. He should know this. But every time he tried to concentrate on the list, his eyes kept straying from the page to Gio, lying in the metal bed in the room painted in soft desert tones—“to promote healing,” the brochures said; Alex had practically memorized them to kill time—while the heart monitor beeped in a steady rhythm.

  One of the nurses came in through the open door. She looked to be in her midforties, with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. Her scrubs were covered with monster trucks.

  She saw him and smiled. “I’m here to check on Mr. Montanari. My name’s Rosalind.”

  He stood and reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Alex, Gio’s… partner.”

  “Gloves, sorry,” she said, refusing his handshake, showing her purple hands. “Yeah, I figured. Your friend Oscar mentioned you.”

  She checked Gio’s pulse and heart rate and entered the information on the terminal in the corner of the room.

  “He did?”

  She nodded. “Want to help me lift him? We need to shift him a bit so he doesn’t get bedsores.”

  “Sure.”

  Together they lifted Gio gently and moved him over a little, settling him in a new position.

  “How long have you two been together?”

  “About ten years.”

  “Nice. My wife and I have been together for twelve. You guys get married?” She tucked the sheets back in as they talked, then gently lifted Gio’s head and fluffed his pillow.

  “Not yet.” There’d been many discussions about that. Alex didn’t believe in marriage—imitating the straights and all that. “We talked about it,” he said noncommittally. “Before… before….” He couldn’t get the rest out. Instead he began to sob like he had when he was ten years old and his father had died in the military. “What if… I… lose him?”

  The nurse put her arms around him, hugging his waist and forgetting all about her gloves. “He’s gonna be okay, baby,” she said softly. “Come over here and sit down for a minute.”

  He allowed himself to be led over to one of the chairs.

  Rosalind looked at her watch. “I’ve got a few minutes before my next rounds,” she said, sitting down next to him. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  GIO WOKE again. His eyes slipped open. This time he was in a bed. Some kind of substance was all around him—a sense of walls and ceilings and floors, but they had an ethereal feel to them, as if they were made of mist and pixie dust.

  He lay there for a long time, trying to feel his body. There was a vague sensation of weight and a dull, aching pain, but his limbs would not respond to his will. He felt like less of a person and more of a fat, helpless slug.

  Then he felt that sense of warmth again, as if hands touched him along the sides of his body.

  What had happened to him? He remembered making a romantic dinner for someone. Then there had been light and heat, a terrible heat. He turned away from the memory of the pain, and other details eluded him.

  He lay there for a while more, then dropped back down into oblivion. The “room” dissolved into dust around him.

  ROSALIND FOUND Alex a chair that folded out into a makeshift bed so he had a place to sleep in Gio’s room. It was cramped and not particularly comfortable, but Alex was exhausted, and after about an hour, he dropped off into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Sunday, September 13

  ALEX WOKE several times in the middle of the night and got up to check on Gio before relieving himself in the hospital room’s small bathroom. Nothing had changed.

  One of the nurses popped in at about 3:00 a.m. to check on her patient. Alex rolled over, glared up at her, then fell back asleep.

  At just after five in the morning, he decided he couldn’t sleep anymore and folded up the chair. He sat in front of the window, looking out over the quiet city, the predawn glow throwing the Catalina Mountains in the distance into shadow.

  He checked on Gio, who was still unconscious but breathing easily under the respirator. Sighing, Alex grabbed his notepad and set out for the cafeteria.

  They weren’t serving yet, but he found a table in the back of the room, near the big picture window, and sat down to work on the list.

  Something had shifted during the night, because now the words just flowed out of him. He started in the kitchen, seeing it in his head, and plates, bowls, silverware, and the beautiful De Grazia painting they’d found for next to nothing at a yard sale on the east side of town all flew onto the page. The gorgeous blue and gold Italian platter with the lemons that Gio’s sister Caterina had given them for their pottery anniversary two years before. The butcher block they’d bought together at IKEA. The prickly pear tablecloth from Penney’s. Gio always did have a thing for kitsch.

  Even their telescope, the one they’d bought together that first year.

  In his head he continued on, walking through each room in their small house, remembering all the things that collectively described the life they had built together, the physical evidence of their relationship.

  Now all those things were gone.

  Where does that leave us?

  When he finally finished, it was six thirty and the kitchen was starting to serve breakfast.

  Alex stared at the list for a long time, at the things the fire had taken. It was a lot like being orphaned.

  He put the list away and grabbed a plate of eggs and bacon, sitting down again at the table to eat. He managed to down about half of it, then sent a text to Caterina.

  She responded almost immediately. There was an eight-hour difference between Arizona and Italy, so it was midafternoon over there.

  How does he do?

  He smiled. Cat’s English was only slightly better than his own mangled Italian.

  Sleeping still. Looks peaceful. When I know more, I will tell you. TVB.

  I love you guys too.

  Throughout the rocky times with Gio’s mother, his sister had always been supportive. Different generation, he supposed. Even in Italy it worked tha
t way. His phone buzzed again.

  Mamma will be there at 3.

  “Fuck,” Alex said, eliciting a few glares. He smiled back sheepishly. “Sorry!”

  Of course she should be there. She was Gio’s mother.

  Cinzia Montanari had made no bones about her feelings for Alex and their relationship, so her arrival could only spell trouble. He’d only been half joking when he’d referred to his partner’s mother as “Mussolini with better legs.”

  He scooped up the list of things they’d lost to the fire, along with his coffee, and headed back to Gio’s room.

  OSCAR WAS waiting for him, along with Dax and Mario, two of their friends from the Tucson gay couples group.

  Alex embraced all three of them. “Oh my God, I am so glad to see you here. Thank you, guys, for coming.” He felt a renewed sense of hope, seeing their friends here to support them. He might be able to make it through another day of this hellish wait for Gio to awaken.

  “How is he?” Dax asked. Dax was the whitest man Alex had ever known, short of actual albinism, with a spray of freckles across his cheeks and bright red hair cropped short. He also had an infectious smile. “Any news?”

  Alex shook his head. “Nothing yet. He’s been in a coma after the fire, and it could take weeks or months for his body to heal and for him to wake up again.” Alex felt tears resurfacing and wiped his eyes angrily with the back of his hand. He would not cry again. Not now, not here in front of their friends. He looked at Oscar. “Cinzia is coming this afternoon.”

  “Not surprised,” Oscar said. “Hey, I’ve got to get to the center, but Dax and Mario said they can stay here for a bit while you take care of yourself—get freshened up a little.”

  “I’m not sure I can leave….”

  “I already asked the doctor. Gio is stable, and you can use my place. You don’t want to be a mess when mamma arrives. You can get a quick shower, shave, whatever.”