“Bob, do you want my pillow?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I don’t really need mine…”
“No, thanks, I said I’m good.”
“Ok, well, if you change your mind, let me know.”
“I will.”
A pause.
“Bob, I know that this thing you have now is bothering you but we’ll get through this.”
“I know.”
“I mean it Bob! I’m here for you and whatever you need, you just let me know.”
“I will.”
“Even my pillow!”
“Thanks.”
“So how did it go with the doctor today?”
“Ok.”
“Just Ok?”
“Yes, just Ok.”
“Well what did the doctor say?”
“The doctor said I am fine and will continue to be fine for a long, long time.”
“But what about the pain in your leg?”
“Well they’re investigating but they say its not life threatening.”
“But you’re in pain Bob…”
“Yeah,” shrugging.
“So what are they doing about that?”
“What they can, I guess.”
“Can’t they get drugs for you?”
Bob’s brow furrows slightly, his eyes narrow ever-so-slightly.
“Well, I’m concerned, I’m scared, and I don’t like it.”
“I’m the one in pain, remember?”
“I know! That’s what’s crazy! I’m scared shitless and you don’t give a fuck, Bob!”
“Hey! Be quiet! It’s late!”
“Oh is that it, Bob? Changing the subject again?”
“No, I wanna talk about this now, damn it!”
“I said, quiet down!” a low thundering grumble threatening lightning.
“Ok, I’ll quiet down, but you tell me why you don’t seem to care about this? Why you don’t tell me what the doctor says?”
“Ok, fine. Urgh! I hate this, damn it! Errr…Ok…” mumbled, the frown a mental trench now.
A pause…
“Bob…”
Bob slowly sits up in bed.
“Yeah, look, this ain’t easy, I’m not built like you, I just can’t up and share what I’m ‘feeling’,” spitting the last word out of his mouth in haste, like a dirty, uncomfortable mouthpiece.
“Well, no, not really, I can’t,” blurted in exasperation.
“What?”
“Well, I can’t really tell you ‘anything’ because you overreact all the time!”
“No, I don’t!”
“Of course you don’t.”
“They know they shouldn’t touch my stuff!”
“That’s not the point. The point is that you always overreact,” the trench turning in a canyon.
“No I don’t! And this is all beside the point! You’re supposed to tell me about the doctor, damn it!”
“Yeah, now’s who’s avoiding sensitive ‘issues’,” that same unsavory finale.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bob!”
“Ok, ok, I’ll tell you about the doctor… So, he tells me that they’ve ran this test and that and they can’t find shit to explain why my leg hurts like a bitch all the time.”
“Yeah, you sort of alluded to that. What are the doctors here doing about it?”
“How the fuck should I know” throwing his arms up in pursuit of the runaway eyes – “I’m not the fucking doctor!”
“But you should know – it’s about your health first of all and second, you should ask questions!”
“Oh, I should ask questions now!” Oh, the sarcasm.
“Yes, obviously!”
“Right, so maybe next time I go to the clinic you can prepare a set of questions for me to ask the doc!”
“What I want is for you to ask questions when you meet the doctor!”
“Sure babe, ask questions, noted,” deferentially. “Can we go to sleep now?”
“Well, whenever we have issues, you just shut down and stop talking and I have to pull your teeth out for you to talk to me.”
A muffled “So?” from the pillow swallowing Bob’s head.
“’So’? ‘So’? You think this is funny Bob?”
“Look, we’re not getting any younger. We live in this shit of a place and –“
“You call this living!?”
“Oh will you shut up! Stop being a freakin’ smart ass all the time! And we have little to show for it. I want to talk to you about our future.”
“Well considering our predicament…”
“Answer me!”
“I’ve answered before but for the fuckin’ record, I’m with you, I’ll stay with you, and I’ll likely die with you too!”
“Oh now you have to get morbid on us! Why can’t you just say that you love me? Maybe get married?”
“Get fuckin’ real! Are you living in Disneyland or what?”
The canyon spreads across Bob’s entire face, a rugged terrain of disbelief and annoyance.
“Oh, I give you what you want and you’re still bitching?
“I said I’m not finished with you Robert Powell!”
“And I said ‘goodnight!’” the smirk is back.
“Oh big macho man, strong silent type, I’m just going to keep nagging and nagging until you acknowledge me Bob!”
“Good night!”
“Ah, sensitive spot! And keep your voice down!”
“Ok, I’ll leave him out of it but you have to stick with it!”
“What the fuck do you think I’m doing here? Sunbathing? Playing tennis?”
“Oh will you cut the bullshit! I’m here and that’s good enough. This is what you’re going to get. If you want more, maybe we’re not meant to be together!”
“Right, right, darling. You sound like a damn shrink!”
“Well these guys know what they are talking about… usually…”
“Obviously you don’t!” And Bob scores again!
“Why do you have to be so mean with me, Bob? I’m just trying to fix things…”
“Things don’t need fixing. I don’t need fixing.”
“Really? Are you happy Bob? Huh? Are you?”
“Well, yeah, I guess.” Bob silently giggles. “Why is that relevant?”
“Well, if you’re not happy it’s a clear sign that there are things to be fixed!”
“Where did you gobble this shit from? The counselor?” the giggle is now audible and persistent.
“Yes. So?”
“Oh come on, don’t go believing what these guys tell you.” An abrupt snort ends the giggles. “They’re paid to spew this bullshit on people and help you feel more guilty!” Lungs functioning at normal capacity and rhythm.
“It would be hard for me to feel more guilty… and what he said made sense. I’m not that naïve you know!”
“You just keep telling yourself that! Anyway, it doesn’t matter. What matters is – and this is what you said – US.”
“We matter, not them, not what the doctors think, not what the counselor thinks, not what the priest or the Church think, not what my mother thinks, not what the rest of the idiots out there think. Just you and me Baby. Just you and me.”
“I like that Bob. But you’ve got to be open with me. Trust me. I’m there for you, you know…”
“Yeah, I know, thanks Babe and I’ll try to be better at this feelings stuff but you’ve got to be patient with me.”
“I will. I just get so frustrated from time to time but it usually passes quickly.”
“I know, I know.”
“I love you Bob!”
“I –“
The PA flares:
*Chuckle*
ReplyDelete