by Denise Muniz
“Are you listening to me, little girl?”
“Yeah, yeah, go to bed. I need to get home. I have a long day at work tomorrow. Goodnight, love you.” I decided that I needed to go to work. It was the only thing that could remove my mind from the state it was in right then.
By the time I got home I was drained, physically and emotionally, maybe even mentally. But my brain would not stop spinning.
I mean, life. How does one summarize life? Isn’t it just what you’re living, the people around you, your job, life? Or is it so much more than that? We go through life thinking that nothing bad will happen to us. What, are we invincible? Is there some sort of bubble around us? Can we not be touched by this thing called life? Life is about the choices we make to get us from point A to point B until we complete the alphabet and work our way back to the beginning. The points are either good or bad, never in between. Is there even an in between?
People are afraid of dying, but they don’t invest much thought into it. I mean, that would be horrible, thinking about dying at any time, any minute, of any day. And there are those people that say to live life to its fullest. Can someone enlighten me on what the fuck fullest is? Going on vacation? Traveling? Finding love? Cause if it’s either of those then I was definitely not living. Can’t being happy in itself be living to the fullest? I suppose even when you’re living life happily something can still come and fuck up your plans. But people aren’t happy with just being happy. They have to go for the big money, the pot at the end of the rainbow type of shit.
So what happens when life takes a huge turn? There’s no book to let you know how to deal with those things.
I was losing my father to gangrene and diabetes. An infection of all things. Damn it, the stallion that I once knew was no longer that strong black horse, but instead he was that fragile mule on its side, knowing it is going to die. I truly wondered what he was thinking about. He was the one fucking dying and here I was thinking about it all the time. He was the one who was going to lose his leg. Was he thinking about that too? Shit, how could he not?
Maybe I should listen to him and speak to James.
JAMES
Getting ready for bed, I couldn’t believe what had happened earlier. I felt like I was being unfair but at that moment it felt right. Being a total dick, I’d had too much pride to apologize to her. How the fuck could I just stand there and hear those words come out of her mouth and not move? Her fucking father, her life, was dying and she came to me and I just kicked her out.
I’d just showered so I threw on some shorts and got into bed. Since the AC was on in my room I threw my light blanket over me, leaving one leg hanging out. Before I attempted sleep I checked my phone to find that I’d missed a call and had a voicemail.
It was Becca.
“Hey James, get prepared because this is going to be fucking long. Firstly, I AM your best friend. And maybe what you thought you did earlier was justifying something, but it didn’t. Secondly, you are a fucking asshole for not letting me explain. And thirdly, Grey wasn’t the fucking reason I was there but you would know that if you had just listened to me.”
She sighed heavily before carrying on. “Look, I understand that you’re upset with me for not texting or calling. Okay, you’re probably pissed that I completely ignored you, but it wasn’t because of Grey. I told you what it was and you still just stood there. You didn’t even come out to get me or anything. It was because of my dad and the situation we are in. He’s fucking dying. The doctors say he’s only got days or months to live. Fucking days. I went with him to a doctor’s appointment almost a month ago and they said he was extremely ill because he kept forgetting to take his pills and he wasn’t exercising daily. The doctor said if he kept not taking his diabetes medicine he would die. And because he didn’t, he caught gangrene on his bad leg and they’re going to amputate it. Fuck!”
She was fighting emotion, I could tell. “He’s not going to have a fucking leg, and there’s no guarantee that the op will help at all because the infection is spreading so fast and it won’t stop. He waited too fucking long to get treatment. I couldn’t talk to you before because you would’ve made it...real. Real as in, he’s really sick. Real as in he IS going to die. You don’t sugarcoat things and I know that, and I just couldn’t deal with it. I’m in denial over the whole thing. Yes, Grey and I broke up but you and my dad made me a tough cookie, especially since you left. So I’m okay with that. I had a lot of feelings for him after I tried letting you go. We text from time to time but we haven’t been together for a few days now. I can’t believe you knew that already. I don’t know what he did. Maybe he told the whole damn world that we weren’t together, but whatever, that’s not why I’m calling. I should’ve held my ground this morning and demanded that you listened to me but the way you looked…you’ve never looked at me like that before. So I left.”
I heard her take a shuddering breath and it almost killed me. “My dad was pretty confused about the whole thing. He thought you would’ve been there with me. Look, you don’t have to talk to me for what I did to you, about ignoring you for over a month. I just didn’t know where to go or who else to talk to. I tried talking to Emma but it’s not the same as talking to you. Just know that I’m trying to get through this. If you want to see him just send me a text and I’ll make sure that I’m not around. He’s supposed to be coming home two or three days after the amputation which is scheduled for either tomorrow or the next day. I’m so scared and…” There was silence except for a few sniffles. “Okay, this is long enough and I’m sure I’ll get cut off soon. Have a goodnight.”
I put the phone down and didn’t know what to do with myself. If I showed up she would know it was only because of the message and nothing else. If I didn’t, then what would she think? Larry was in the hospital and he was dying and I was here doing nothing at all. Everything in me wanted to get off this bed, get dressed, and go to her. Be there for her. But I was immobile. This was too much, especially with what went down this morning.
When I spoke to Juliana earlier I didn’t give her all the details. She just told me to forget about Becca but she had no clue just how important Becca was to me. She wanted to stay the night but I told her I was tired and was going to sleep early. I definitely couldn’t leave after that. She might get into a frenzy. But should I have left Becca to deal with this all by herself? It wasn’t like she had anybody else, well, she had Emma, but still, I doubted it was the same.
She didn’t speak to me because I’d made shit ‘real’. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What, did she think that everything was a dream, everything was fake? We lived in a cruel world and cruel shit happened, but it all depended on how you handled it. And that morning, I did not handle it well. I should’ve let her talk, explain herself. But when Paul planted that shit in my head I couldn’t take it along with my own thoughts. And when she said about Larry, well, I didn’t know what to do or think.
I couldn’t even think as the events of last night and today consumed me, and just like that, my eyes shut on their own.
*
My alarm woke me up in the morning, and before I could register what happened I thought about the message Becca had sent me last night. I didn’t even think, I just did. I walked to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face and went to the kitchen. I grabbed an apple and ate it quickly before stretching for my morning run.
I didn’t bother to start off slow, I just went for it. I left my iPod at home so nothing was pumping me except my adrenaline, all the thoughts that had been filling my mind, between Becca, my dad wanting to get in contact with me, to Larry in the hospital, it was a lot to deal with. Juliana always wanting something, never leaving me be for two seconds, was another thing. It was not like this in the beginning. Work had been crazy but it was the only thing I could do without thinking about other shit.
My calves started to burn as I pushed myself harder. I didn’t want to think, I just wanted to run, but I fucking couldn’
t stop thinking. Not speaking or having a real conversation with Becca in over a month had made me put her to the back of my mind. But after last night, she seemed to consume my every thought, even as I ran. I wanted to think about Juliana, and my dad, but it all kept coming back to Becca, and then Larry. She had been extremely upset the other night and she’d driven in a storm to come to me. And what did I do? I kicked her ass out.
And as far as my dad was concerned, he could take his texts and shove them up his ass. I didn’t need this shit. Fuck. The burning increased as I kept pushing myself to the limit but I couldn’t calm down. The wind was breezing on by as the sweat dripped off of my body. My arms pumped back and forth with force but I didn’t stop.
Larry was in the fucking hospital and here I was doing nothing about it. What was I supposed to do about it anyway? I couldn’t help him. I wasn’t a doctor. Fuck. I just wanted to punch something…or someone.
I stepped down the boardwalk onto the sand and kept going. The grits of sands were hitting the back of my calves as I keep pumping. The smell of the ocean was overpowering, but soothing as well. Running became more difficult from the weight of the sand and the burning in my calves intensified. Before I knew it, I’d collapsed on all fours. Sweat was pouring down my face, making wet spots form on the sand beneath me. My heavy breath was blowing some of the sand to the side, eventually slowing down.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Becca needed me and I was just pushing her away. I was doing what she had done to me.
Just then, I felt something hit my back. It didn’t hurt, but it distracted me from my thoughts. Standing up, I saw a couple of young bucks, maybe twenty or twenty-one years old, probably on vacation or something. They were laughing as I made my way toward them. Everything in me was yelling to turn around and go back home, but I couldn’t. I wanted this. I needed this.
As I made my way to the group, I noticed the tallest one, who looked like he spent half his time in the gym, was laughing and pointing at me. Something was funny and I didn’t know what, but before I could think anymore I took a swing at him, knocking him to the sand. The few females that were behind them started to yell but I just got on top of him and started to pound him, he tried blocking, even tried throwing in a few punches which caught me on the jaw and above the eye. Running my tongue in my mouth I tasted copper, which only made we want to destroy him. Someone was behind me trying to pull me off but I shoved them off of me. Everything happened within a few minutes. They got me off of the young punk, blood pouring from his mouth and eye, but he was okay, he was standing. Without saying another word, I turned around and left, my heart simmering down from the adrenaline rush I’d just enjoyed.
Once home, I applied an ice pack to my jaw. I couldn’t help but think about Becca and her stupid ass message again. I couldn’t focus at work, eventually telling Jim I needed to leave because I wasn’t feeling well. He asked about my face but I didn’t want to talk about that either. My stomach was being twisted and knotted and I didn’t know why. It felt like I was nervous or something. But for what?
Juliana tried calling a few times, but honestly, I didn’t want to talk to her. She probably wanted to talk about her jobs and how many fucking pictures she took today. Any other day I would listen and nod but I didn’t want that shit right now. I sent her a quick text, telling her I had mad shit on my mind and I wanted to sleep. Of course, she got all bitchy, saying I wasn’t sick yesterday and asking if this had anything to with Becca. I didn’t bother to text her back.
Lying in bed, I debated whether I should text Becca or not. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through. Probably the same thing I’d be feeling if my mom was in that same situation. We loved our parents so much. I doubted we could live without them in our lives.
Fuck it.
Getting out of bed, I grabbed a few shirts from my dresser, throwing them in my backpack along with a couple of shorts. It was 9:35pm so I sent Jim a quick text.
Me: Yo Jim, I have to go to Becca’s, her dad is really sick. I’m leaving right now so I won’t be at work tomorrow or the next, which gives u a perfect opportunity to train that new supervisor we hired. Thanks man, and sorry, but I have to do this. (9:36pm)
Throwing the bag over my shoulder, I left my room and banged on Paul’s door. He didn’t answer so I walked right in. He popped up from the bed as the door swung open. Luckily he had his blanket over him. What I didn’t know was that he was here with someone. She sat up with no blanket on, her boobs were out in the open and her hair was everywhere. I turned to Paul.
“What the fuck, dude?” he moaned.
“Yo, I’m headed out. I’ll call you in the morning.” I closed the door behind me but two seconds later he opened it.
“What the fuck do you mean? You’re headed out? Where?” Fucking, mother hen.
“Becca’s dad is in the hospital. I’m going to stay with my mom for a few days to make sure things are okay. I feel like a dick for throwing her out the other morning.” Paul didn’t know that Becca had said her father was dying before she’d left. I think if he knew, he’d have kicked me in the balls for letting her leave.
I was by the door now. “I’m sorry about that, dude. Let her know I send prayers her way.”
“Go back to bed, bro.”
BECCA
Dirt. Grave. Headstone.
But instead of my dad, it was me in the ground. It was me, or someone who looks like me, just older.
Bang, bang, bang.
I awoke from my slumber and glancing at the clock. It read 1:34am. Great, I had to be at work at 8:00am and I felt like I’d only just gotten to sleep. Thank goodness I had woken up from that crazy dream though. Laying my head back down, I ran my hands down my face. I could’ve sworn I’d heard something.
Fuck, I wished my dad were there so I didn’t have to go downstairs. I had a bat next to my door so I grabbed it, holding it tight and rubbing my eyes to wake me up properly.
Bang, bang, bang.
As I quietly made my way down the stairs I could see someone pacing back and forth through the curtains. When I got closer to the door I lifted onto my tippy-toes to see who was there, but there was no one. Squinting left and right, I saw nothing. Then, all of a sudden, a face appeared. It scared the shit out of me, making me scream and drop the bat.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Becca, are you okay?”
Was that James’ voice?
Peeking through the hole again, I saw James standing there in front of my door. I shouldn’t have called him. Damn my dad, and damn myself for listening to his ass. I put the bat down and opened the door slightly.
“James,” I said, but it came out more of a question.
“Are you okay? You were screaming.”
My eyes adjusted to the bright light outside as I opened my front door wider. “No, I’m not okay. You’re banging on my door at one thirty in the morning.”
Running his hands through his hair, he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I mean, I’m sorry for everything. I should have listened to you, or tried to listen, or went after you when you said… I’m…”
Seeing James look like a lost puppy, I couldn’t force him to stay outside for long. I opened the door all the way, inviting him in. There goes my sleeping. I was going to be so exhausted when I got to work later. He looked me up and down, making me look down at myself. I was wearing my snoopy shorts with a black tank top. Thank goodness I’d left my sports bra on.
He walked into the house, dropping his backpack by the door.
“I didn’t leave you that message so that you’d come here,” I told him, walking to the kitchen. Since I was up, I’d need some water so that I could try to keep myself awake long enough for him to go.
He followed me into the kitchen. “I know, but after listening to it I needed to say I‘m sorry in person. And that I’m sorry for not going after you once you left. I heard what you said, but I was at a loss for words.” He put his head down.
Pl
acing my glass cup on the counter, I turned toward him. He was leaning by the fridge, still looking at the floor with his hands in his pocket. “It’s not that fucking easy, James. ‘Oh hey, James, my fucking dad is in the hospital and he’s dying and I need you’. No.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“I get it, stop saying that you’re sorry.” I was so sick of that word already. Finishing my water, I placed the cup in the sink and walked right by him to the living room. I sat on the couch, avoiding my father’s recliner. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. “You can visit him tomorrow. I’ll be at work so it’s a perfect time. I don’t know what time they’re going to amputate his leg but I’m sure someone will call tomorrow.”
“You won’t be there.” It came out more of a statement then a question.
“No, I won’t. I’ll be working from eight ‘til seven in the evening. I took some overtime for the week since I haven’t been in work for the past few days.”
‘I need my sleep,’ I kept repeating in my head.
“Oh,” was all he said.
I stood up, wiping my eyes with my hands. “I really need sleep, James. I’ll write the information down for you. You can see him in the morning or whenever you want.” I was going to walk by him but he blocked me. I looked at him, like, really looked at him. He looked tired, his eyes bloodshot, and I thought he could do with a shower.
“Are you not going to talk to me again?”
Ouch.
I moved him slightly out of the way. There were sticky pads on the fridge along with a pen, so taking one of each, I wrote down the information for him. Turning back around, I found him in the same spot I’d moved him to. I handed him the paper. “Look, James, I can’t register shit right now. I haven’t had a decent sleep in…I don’t know how long, and I have to be at work in a few hours. Can we talk about all this shit later?” I hoped he’d say yes, but even if he said no, I didn’t care. I was going to sleep. Or I was going to try to. I probably wouldn’t be able to anymore but I needed to play it off.