Release Candidate

  Release Candidate

  Contents

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  Also by

  Copyright

  To my family and friends

  1

  ‘I wish I could tell you something with a smile.’ sighed Dr Chandran. Her posture dropped as she tapped at her keyboard. ‘We might as well have given you a placebo.’

  ‘If there’s another poison in the cupboard, pull it out.’ shrugged Tomás. He trembled imperceptibly.

  ‘There’s nothing on the screen you haven’t tried... I’m looking at any palliative items I could possibly give.’

  Tomás froze in his seat, eyes bulging.

  ‘This is to get some emotional help.’ she handed him a referral form. ‘You’ll be lying to yourself if you think you don’t need it. Weeks and days can no longer be taken for granted.’

  ‘Come on now, Dr! There must be some sort of experimental thing left out there to try? Elsewhere in the world maybe?’

  She shook her head slowly. ‘Tomás, in all my years as a GP I’ve never got used to giving bad news. I’m never slow when I see a speck of hope.’

  Tomás looked at her mouth, seemingly hoping she would add to the sentence. After a few moments of silence he got up and slowly walked to the door.

  ‘Well, no point in keeping you.’ he turned to her.

  ‘Take it easy, Tomás. Occasionally patients sometimes surprise their doctors.’ her eyes followed him out.

  He handed his form to the receptionist and nodded at the appointment offered. Upon pocketing his card his wife got up from a waiting room seat and accompanied him outside. She wrung her hands.

  ‘You’re faking sadness, aren’t you?’ asked Marilyn cautiously.

  Tomás closed his eyes, squeezed out a tear and shook his head.

  Once inside the car Marilyn looked out of the window for the longest time.

  ‘The time frame she gave me could be all bullshit.’ he said.

  Tears broke as she turned to him. ‘You’ve been fighting so hard for so long.’

  ‘Goes to show that even though an opponent can sometimes stay still in the boxing ring, that doesn’t necessarily mean you can knock them out.’

  Marilyn cried quietly and thumbed the ignition. They remained silent throughout the journey.

  ‘Well,’ she sighed when they reached their house, ‘we can’t just sit in the car.’

  Tomás momentarily closed his eyes. ‘Shame bad news doesn’t get sweeter the longer you leave it.’ he nodded towards their door and got out.

  Tomás tapped a finger on the door’s scanner and trailed behind Marilyn down the corridor.

  ‘Dad, Mum...’ said Tomás to the quiet pair on the sofa. His subsequent words rolled off his tongue like a grenade.

  Marilyn ran to his mother’s arms; his father scrunched up his face. Tomás remained where he was, looking the odd one out.

  Come bedtime Tomás winced at his parents’ exaggerated goodnight messages. Upon sinking into his pillow he turned on his side towards the window to look at bare trees against a navy sky. When he blinked a flurry of eye floaters swam around what lighting there was.

  Marilyn beside looked over at him. Once she saw his eyelashes clamped together and his chest continued to rise and fall she waved her lamp off.

  Tomás woke the next morning with his thumb and forefinger pressed against his forehead. This had come to be the way he greeted new days. After getting up and slowly brushing his teeth and shaving he went down to the kitchen. Marilyn had laid eggs, toast and tea on the table.

  ‘Didn’t have a disturbed sleep, did you?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s waking up that’s the problem.’

  ‘You do know you don’t have to finish off those funny-looking pills now?’

  He laughed as he popped out a capsule from its foil. ‘My hand can’t forget about tossing stuff into me.’

  Marilyn put potato waffles in front of him then sat across the table. ‘I’m guessing you’re not going to lay back and take it easy today?’

  Tomás’s mother Estela barged in. Her eyes were bagged.

  ‘Friends need stuff to remember me by, right? No need for them to wait, then.’

  Marilyn’s eyebrows rose.

  ‘No point waiting ‘til my last breath is there? After that I only want you lot around me, when I... Close my eyes for good.’

  Estela squeezed the rim of the silver sink with both hands and closed her eyes.

  Early that afternoon several of Tomás’s friends arrived in his room. Their expressions wouldn’t have looked out of place if a mugshot height chart were behind them.

  ‘I don’t wanna see any of these boxes left in here, okay? If any of you guys are going to ask me if I’m sure, the answer beforehand is please, please, quit the soppy crap.’

  Collector’s discs by the band Silver Monochrome were brimming out of one box. Another contained his e-reader and yellowed dog-eared paperbacks. The only things not in a container but also gestured for removal were a shiny white computer and a glossy red bass guitar and amplifier.

  Tomás prodded his friends to the corners of the room as if they were children confused about what to do on Christmas Day. When they left with moist eyes he spent the rest of the day silent.

  In the evening Tomás and Marilyn went to the café where their relationship began. A female friend of Marilyn’s accompanied them by telephone request, to buffer any extreme emotions they may have from revisiting the place.

  ‘My maths must be fucked. Has it really been eight whole ones?’ asked Tomás.

  ‘No longer the kids in the place, are we?’ replied Marilyn.

  ‘Cupid must’ve looked well out of place at the Halloween party we were at,’ he explained to the friend, ‘held by a guy whose only real major achievement in life was to go to college with me and school with her. Anyway, there I was in my green make-up and all of a sudden I feel someone fiddling with the fake bolts on my neck! I turned meaning to yell but my eyes just froze at this pale, fanged beauty. Alright, she was extremely caked up but I could see through it and she didn’t seem put off by the man behind the monster either. Basically, then, a magnet found its metal.’ he smiled.

  ‘Luckily there was no real fright of each other here the next day either.’ added Marilyn.

  ‘Yeah, if you can sit with someone and willingly let them make your pricey coffee go cold, that’s the proof!’ said Tomás. ‘In all this time we’ve hardly ever raised our voices to one another; never for anything serious.’

  The friend studied them with a half-frown-half-smile. Tomás looked down and scratched his nose. None of them let their tea turn cold.

  Next morning Tomás woke with a moist red face. Marilyn put a hand against his forehead.

  ‘Marilyn, it’s just something going round. You could get this too, you know.’

  ‘So you’re a medical expert now, are you?’

  ‘Look, a couple of tablets and a glass of water is all I need.’

  ‘I’m getting on the phone, booking you another day.’ she jerked two tablets from a foil in his drawer.

  ‘You want me to go when I might be on my last legs?’

  A few hours later they reached the counselling department. The waiting room walls were homely beige, the floor reflective white. A handful of revolutions completed on the analogue clock before a door opened.

  ‘T. Gabino?’ called out a man.

  Tomás and Marilyn stepped forward.

  ‘Gordon.’ he shook Tomás’s hand. ‘Grab a
chair.’

  Gordon sat behind his desk and waved over a hologram file on his tablet computer. ‘You’re one of a lot more than usual today, so apols if I speak too fast. Okay. I bet you’re thinking: this guy makes a living from spouting trash, correct? I’m not going to tell you to take it easy or eat your greens etcetera, etcetera. Though you couldn’t have walked into the building as if you were entering an airport lounge, I’m not here to be an obstacle for you. Tell me now, it hasn’t been a sweet bowl of cherries since you last set foot in Dr Chandran’s, has it?’ he smiled.

  Tomás brushed non-existent fluff off his thigh.

  ‘Does that question even need answering?’ he replied. ‘No one promised me I could make it to old age. But becoming aware that your body is almost ready to go under the soil... The heart fights it. You try to make sure your hours don’t go to waste and that puts a blindfold on what’s coming. There’s times when I can’t stop quivering, though, no matter how much I shake off images of my brain exploding.’

  ‘It can’t be comfortable for you either, Mrs Gabino, am I right?’

  ‘That’s not worth asking either.’ she replied. ‘Never in my wildest dreams did I believe a doctor would stop saying “we can try something else.”

  ‘Not bowing down before death is good, Tomás. If you cave in you’re a walking corpse. No doctor can look at you and say “oh, four months, twelve days and seven hours left”. Never let that slip your mind. Slip into despondency and your loved ones will only echo you.’

  Tomás focussed on the exaggerated puppet-like gestures of Gordon’s hands.

  ‘Sometimes what you read in a textbook isn’t easy to follow to the letter in the real world.’ said Tomás.

  ‘I didn’t say it’s not a mountain climb. That said, you’re not using your hands to push a pair of wheels or have a tube in your throat. Maybe tomorrow or the next day you will, or worse. So you need to juice the days where you are as you are. You’re the director of your picture so only you can make the final scene a good one.’

  Tomás tried hard not to yawn for the remainder of the talk.

  That night back at home Tomás had a large seizure while raising himself from the sofa. Marilyn heard a loud thud and rushed from upstairs.

  When Tomás regained consciousness he cupped his knee caps and looked up at her.

  ‘...Damn floor turned into an ice rink.’

  Marilyn’s face flushed in the effort to lift him. He looked at her as a baby does to a mother and sighed.

  ‘First my dick no longer gets hard and now you’re just my nurse.’

  Marilyn pretended not to hear.

  Estela ran in ranting and hollering at various high pitches. He covered his ears.

  Tomás remained in bed late the following morning. He looked at Marilyn playing with her phone beside him then at the ultra-white rectangle on the wall where his hi-fi used to be.

  His father, Alberto, came up. ‘Not looking too much like a ghost now. Good.’

  ‘The itching and rashes from those tablets aren’t bugging me any more as well. Just need to flush all the crap out before the zombie face goes.’

  ‘Well... If there is someone in the skies...’ he turned away and soon left.

  By lunchtime Tomás had the energy to get up, though he nearly lost his balance.

  ‘Marilyn, hey.’ he called.

  ‘You alright?’ she replied from the bathroom.

  ‘Canines... How are you for giving one a home?’

  ‘I’m not sure I heard you right.’ she appeared towelling her hair.

  ‘You know, furry thing, woof woof; like you said you had back in your parents’ house?’

  ‘They’re brilliant animals!’ she laughed. ‘But doesn’t your mum scream when she sees them?’

  ‘Well, we’ll pick up one that’s as far away from a wolf as you can get. Sometimes you can force love for one. This’ll be easier to sell if only I take responsibility for the idea.’

  Marilyn looked at the bedroom door then back at Tomás. ‘If she gets in a huff then we swap it for a goldfish or something, okay?’

  Tomás smiled and nodded.

  An hour later they were at the local pet shop.

  ‘This one is too gorgeous!’ said Marilyn patting a brown puppy.

  ‘I think coming here wasn’t a smart idea. I’d be seeing less red pimping you to a new man!’

  ‘Look, his smile isn’t in my direction.’

  ‘It could be a she.’

  Tomás saw himself reflected in the dog’s big wet eyes. He put his finger in the cage which the dog sniffed. Tomás then stuck out his other fingers and felt satiny cheek fur rub against them. Marilyn noted the carbon copy of the dog’s smile on Tomás.

  ‘Is it worth looking at the other mutts?’ he asked.

  ‘Love at first sight, is it?’

  ‘Can’t part me from a good bitch!’

  Marilyn parted one of the pup’s hind legs.

  ‘...Well, my best mates can’t really be women, can they?’

  ‘Certainly no eyesore, is that dog.’ said the shop owner to their backs.

  ‘I know squat about them, unlike her.’

  ‘Some other breed would be a right headache for you, then.’ replied the shop owner. ‘If not baring its teeth, an ability to do more than fetch a stick and the life of a cat is on your check list, look no further.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Tomás whispered to Marilyn, ‘could you leave those puppy eyes here?’

  ‘He’s a handsome devil... Not sure if it’s worth an earful, though.’

  ‘You think you’re gonna see my mum jump up and down and smile? We leave the dog here and I doubt we can take him home next time.’

  ‘And your mum thinks you’re an angel.’

  ‘We won’t expect her to lift a finger for him.’

  ‘What made you decide to want a dog?’

  ‘A luckier woman has a son or daughter as a souvenir.’

  Marilyn hugged him tight then stroked the pup’s head.

  ‘Let’s not keep him caged any longer.’ he added.

  Within an hour they were back home.

  ‘What this you bring?’ screeched Estela

  ‘Come on, Mum, this ain’t the kind of dog that’ll chew you to pieces. Marilyn knows the drill with them and we won’t ask you to even pick up a hair.’ he feigned loss of balance.

  ‘Okay, you win, stop game!’ she directed a wide eye at Marilyn. ‘No want to see in same place as me. If show teeth is gone!’

  Tomás laughed.

  Later that evening Tomás played with whom they named Gus while Marilyn went out for a pre-planned meal with friends.

  Her Gus-induced smile at the table was inversed on the faces of her three friends. Word had got around about her husband.

  ‘If you, like, have to go, we understand.’ said friend one.

  ‘I’ll just not be downing any pints after.’ replied Marilyn.

  ‘No upsets today, no?’ the friend replied.

  ‘Can a dog be classed as that?’ smiled Marilyn.

  ‘A mixed breed?’ asked friend two.

  ‘I keep you in my prayers, Marilyn.’ said friend three. ‘You know, a relative of mine was fighting something far from small too and we were really convinced they would make it back home... Then the next thing you know you’re confused, drying your eyes and following a black hearse.’

  Marilyn gave a millimetre nod and breathed deeply when a waiter approached their table with menus.

  Once the bright food and drink arrived the girls’ ensuing conversation managed to break in some high-pitched laughter.

  After going their separate ways Marilyn’s happy mask fell off as she walked to the bus stop.

  Back at home Alberto peered in through Tomás’s slightly wedged open door to see his son and Gus dozing on a leather chair. Their inhalation and exhalation was in sync.

  Marilyn had returned and entered the kitchen. Estela sat in pyjamas with tea at the table. Her tongue was almost popping out of her chee
k. Marilyn then walked into where Tomás was. He opened his eyes.

  ‘Not sick from that greasy food, no?’ he asked blearily.

  ‘The time felt like it flew. You haven’t had any problems, have you?’

  ‘Nothing new since you left. I don’t think I’ve heard Gus bark yet. We were watching a bit of TV and then just nodded off. It’s relaxing having a dog on your lap.’

  Marilyn smiled.

  ‘Only thing is if he stays a second longer on my thighs they’re gonna turn into pancakes!’

  She eased Gus off to the floor then pulled Tomás by his arms and guided him to bed.

  About half an hour after both settled in Tomás started blowing his nose followed by prolonged dabbing. Marilyn turned and saw in the dark, spots of inky liquid above his top lip. She flicked on her lamp.

  ‘Babe, I’m not gushing, okay?’

  Marilyn sat up and pushed his chin towards the ceiling. ‘That’s no little stream... Don’t tell me your shirt naturally has red blobs on it now! Is it still flowing?’ she pulled the limp and stained tissue from him.

  ‘You wanna shove a telescope up my nose to check?’

  Marilyn returned from the bathroom with a wad of fresh tissue. Tomás laid his head back and pressed his hands either side of him deep into the mattress. Marilyn wiped his nose then paused to look at him and sunk a tooth into her lip. She then helped him change into a new top and handed a glass of water.

  ‘Schtum about this with Mum, yeah? Last thing I need is my eardrums blown by her voice.’

  ‘Tomás, I could keep a vow of silence for the rest of my life, but that’s still not going to save you, is it?’ her eyes moistened and she covered her mouth. ‘My eyes can’t watch you rot.’

  Tomás turned towards the window. A clear drop fell from his eye which he rubbed off with a thumb.

  ‘Look, Marilyn, my brain’s been whirring, and, maybe this isn’t the right time, if there is one, but just hear me out.’

  He turned back. Her eyes seemed lost on the carpet.

  ‘We’ve been through a lot of shit,’ he continued, ‘can’t be ripped from each other.’

  She dislodged from her stare.

  ‘And, so what I’m about to spill out, you’re not gonna rant against, okay?’ he closed his eyes and briefly stuck his tongue out to moisten his lips. ‘...I want you not, you know, to live as a widow.’