Tangled

Prologue

I coughed again, hacking this time, and stumbled down onto a porch step to take a break. Stopping like this was threatening cramps in my legs that I was going to regret, but this cough was killing me, in more ways than one. It signified the deterioration of my lungs, but every time it happened it made me think of what was going to happen next. First lungs, then liver, blood, all the soft organs inside me were going to crumble and puddle. It was like a train wreck, I could see the outcome, but was hopeless to jump off the track.

They gave me a scant few months. Nothing more. I lived alone, never have been able to find Mister Right. I guess I was always too absorbed in myself, and never looked for anything else. I never thought I needed anything else. I had my own job, my own hobbies, my own things; I didn’t need anything else. I suppose I’d never know what it was like now. I pushed those thoughts out of my head now, what use was it lamenting? Never solved anything in my books.

I had a degenerative disease. It pissed me off. I was the epitome of health my entire life, and now my body was slowly betraying me. Every step forward I took, my body pushed me eight steps back. I finished a 10K race, beating my own record time and taking first, but spent three weeks in the hospital recovering. All the work I did was never enough to insure the next race, the next walk, the next mile. It was just milestones on a sick road.

At the times I was forced to stay in the hospital, my mother stayed with me, but I could see that she would rather be somewhere else. She fidgeted, constantly seemed to be looking for something in her purse, rather than at my face. She avoided looking at me, she had for as long as I could remember. I reminded her of my father, and it was something that she could never get over. She was there in all the physical sense of how a mom should be, but there wasn’t that damn emotional connection. No emotion, she put up walls and never brought them down. Even now, in the worst stages. No bond made me her daughter.

I got up from the stoop and looked around. This might be the last day I was able to run as I usually did. The days were like this now. I spent the day in my South Chicago bungalow, arranging the last details of my life, tying off the loose ends, packaging up my life in file boxes, letters, wills, addendums and estates. My funeral paid for, my plot picked. I would never buy a new home, never get anywhere but a hole in St. Mary’s cemetery, under six feet of limestone and dirt. Witnessed by my mother. It was all set. A small ceremony at St. Mary Star of the Sea, and a last limo ride. That was it. Maybe the museum would name an obscure hallway after me. Most of my money was going to them after all was said and done anyway. What was the point of even giving me a paycheck I wondered? Must have been protocol.

I looked out at the darkening sky. I started running again, this time not for fun, but to get home. If I passed out in the dark, I didn’t want to think of what could happen. This wasn’t the best of neighborhoods, not the worst, but I wanted to be in my house. I found myself on the Cicero bridge, and savored this last leg of my daily run. This was the best in my opinion. Below the train yard stretched for miles, and I could see the men in the cranes busy loading the cars on the tracks. The sky was the most royal shade of purple, and the sun was lazily lowering in the western sky. The air seemed to drop in temperature as I ran, and the cool of the night caressed my sweating face. I stopped at the pinnacle of the bridge and looked out, letting the coughs come as they would. Just a moment of rest. Just a moment of peace. I placed my hands on the cement retaining wall and looked over. So far to fall, such a long way to go.

I closed my eyes and let my mind start its shutdown, I started to just let it go, my body still hacking and spasms with the incessant coughs. I cursed and rested my head on the cool concrete.

A car honked behind me and I vaguely registered the sound. It just seemed too far away. Surely it was somewhere at the bottom of the hill. Not here, not in this space. There it was again. Funny what a hurry people were in, even this late. I tried to raise my head, but it seemed I was just lacking the basic motor skills required to move. I opened an eye and looked at the purple oblivion. I remember smiling, and I know I must have looked like a drunk as a man helped me to my feet. I don’t remember when I exactly came back to myself.

I jerked my arm away from his hands and stumbled back a little. I couldn’t stop the hacking to talk, and he reached into his car and pulled out a bottle of Dasani. Water. I nodded, and he unscrewed the cap and handed it to me. Mine must have tumbled over the edge of the bridge, but I didn’t bother to look for it. I drank the water as fast as my lungs would allow, and still felt like I couldn’t get enough. I pulled the empty bottle away from my mouth and gasped. God, I probably did seem like a drunk. Or a total spaz.

“Thank you.” I managed to mutter. My voice was still raspy and grumbly.

“No problem. Um, do you need anymore help?” He asked, holding a hand out as if to steady me. I let him hang on to my arm for a moment before regaining my feet on my own.

“No, no. I don’t know what that was all about. I guess I was running too hard, and the car exhaust just got the better of me.” I said, waving my hand in a nonchalant way. No need to cry on this guy’s shoulder. And what a shoulder it was. I shook my head. Passing lingering thoughts of a normal life. My shrink told me all the lovely details I was going to encounter. I couldn’t look at this man that I was being forced to talk to and not feel a small pang of regret that I’d never know what it was like to lay my head on a shoulder like that.

He looked at me again, and I saw just how young he was. A kid. Nothing more. “You don’t want to go to the hospital or anything?” He asked. “Christ is just a skip away, it’s no problem.” He said.

I shook my head. I had seen enough of the inside of that place for a long time. I didn’t want to go there. Going there now may be the last time I walked in, and I didn’t want to face that right now. Not now. “No. It was just a little dizzy spell. I mean, this is a pretty high bridge. It probably just threw me off for a minute.”

“It never has before.” He said with a smirk.

I stopped for a minute, I know my mouth was opening and closing, but I just couldn’t get any words out. Did I have a stalker? Did I need a stalker?

He gave a laugh as though reading my thoughts. “I’m not following you. Really. I come over this bridge every day at the same time, and you’re always running at this time of night. It’s hard not to take note of you.” He explained. “I work at the hospital.” He added, as though the fact that he had a decent job was going to change my mind about the fact that he was a potential stalker.

“How old are you?” I asked, now noting that he was indeed wearing a badge from the familiar ward of the hospital. I shuddered. I had probably seen him before.

He gave another laugh. “24.” He said, reaching into his car and pulling out another bottle of water. “Here, at least take this with you. I won’t offer you a ride, but I wish you would ask for one.” He said with a grin. “You wouldn’t take it anyway.”

Damn right. God, how did I think he was so young? He was my age. The same amount of years, but the differences between the two of us were just astounding. How did it make him feel, having to care for patients his age? Ones as bad off as me? I took the hand that he extended and shook it. I peered at his name tag.

“Thank you, Gabriel.” I said. “Thanks very much. I think I am going to finish my run, all the same.”

“It’s Gabe. And you’re welcome. I hope I don’t have to stop to help you again, but the pleasure was all mine.” He said, walking back to the driver’s side of his car. I watched as he turned off his hazards and put the car into drive. I hadn’t noticed it before, but cars were honking all around us. Stopping to help a damsel in distress was a lost art these days it seemed. Especially on the Cicero bridge. I bet I had blocked traffic clear to the mall.

I looked at the now violet velvet of the sky, it didn’t seem like it had been that long, and I started off again. Left on Marquette, through the shortcut. I hated the sight of the new hotels that they were building for the airport around here. But from here I could take another breather and watch at least two planes coming in to land. When I was little, I used to think they’d hit the buildings, but now it was like a comforting clockwork. I stayed for two and then ran the last three blocks to my own little home. By the time I got there, I could feel my legs shaking and my hands fumbled with the lid to the pills they assured me would get me a few more minutes.

Dying was the worst thing I’ve had to do in my entire life.