said. “Too much, goddamnit.” And finally I felt it, like a worm swallowing something under the soil: a pulse. I put my cheek near her mouth and felt the faint sour whiff of her breath. OK, then. OK.
Step by step. I let out the water, threw some towels over her, and went to find the phone. The 911 lady let it ring a long time and then asked in a skeptical voice if this was an emergency. When she heard Molly was breathing, she lost even her meager reserves of urgency. She said, “If you can get her to throw up, that’d really help us out.”
On TV the operator stays on the line until the emergency crew shows up, but that didn’t happen. This woman seemed to have someplace to be.
I kneeled down next to Molly, waiting. Her skin was clammy and cool, blue gray. I lined up the empty prescription bottles and tried to remember which ones had been for the chemo, which ones for the pain.
Then finally a low, funny moan came from some great subterranean distance, and she moved.
“That’s right,” I said. I made all kinds of retarded cheerleading remarks. “Come on now, you can do it. Let’s go, Molly.”
“What’d you do to me?” She came to life. “Oh, fuck, it’s freezing in here.”
So I carried her into my dad’s room. She was piled in towels on top but still naked and wet underneath. It was like picking up a strange furry animal and discovering its slick, heavy underside. I set her in my dad’s bed and piled all our spare blankets over her. I brought over the garbage can and asked if she could find a way to throw up. “I’ll get right on it,” she said.
I gave her a t-shirt, sat down on the edge of the bed. “I called the paramedics.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
They probably wouldn’t come anyway. “What were you thinking?”
“What were you thinking?” She was still slurring her words from the drugs. “Who lets some stranger into their house? What exactly were you expecting?” She said it in a leering way that set me off.
“What if you died here? In my house? I mean, fucking go next door if you want to do that.”
She went big-eyed and quiet. “I thought about it.”
A big angry weight collapsed through me like a live demolition. She tried to patch it over, take it back. “I didn’t plan it. I just saw those little pills and wanted to try them out. I didn’t want to die or anything. God.”
I shook my head. “Who does that?”
“I do,” she said. And then at last she started throwing up. The sound and smell of it was so familiar I felt myself shrivel up and sneak out. My body kept holding the garbage can for her but the rest of me was someplace else, staring at one little card pinned up over her head that just said SOLVITUR AMBULANDO and nothing else, and I wondered what it meant or if it could be a guy’s name and if so, who that would’ve been. There were all these mysteries now that no one could answer.
After a while there was nothing left in her stomach and she was seized up, gagging out yellow bile. I got her some water and she lay back. Her face was red and teary, strained like a balloon.
She said, “Don’t you have to go to work or something?”
I was keeping his printshop alive on my own now, but nobody much would notice if I opened a few hours late or not at all. So we sat together against the headboard, just breathing. A light snow started coming down outside and I think both of us dozed off for a while.
“Maybe we should take a vacation day,” she said, which woke me up. “We could turn up the heat real high and make sugary drinks.”
“OK,” I said. I had nothing against it.
“I want to go someplace really hot, you know? I want to go someplace where it’s sunny all the time.”
“You should.”
“Shit,” she said, like this was the equivalent of going to the moon.
She closed her eyes for a while and I thought she’d dozed off again. I sat watching the snow. My legs were falling asleep and my tailbone ached. I was considering
Step by step. I let out the water, threw some towels over her, and went to find the phone. The 911 lady let it ring a long time and then asked in a skeptical voice if this was an emergency. When she heard Molly was breathing, she lost even her meager reserves of urgency. She said, “If you can get her to throw up, that’d really help us out.”
On TV the operator stays on the line until the emergency crew shows up, but that didn’t happen. This woman seemed to have someplace to be.
I kneeled down next to Molly, waiting. Her skin was clammy and cool, blue gray. I lined up the empty prescription bottles and tried to remember which ones had been for the chemo, which ones for the pain.
Then finally a low, funny moan came from some great subterranean distance, and she moved.
“That’s right,” I said. I made all kinds of retarded cheerleading remarks. “Come on now, you can do it. Let’s go, Molly.”
“What’d you do to me?” She came to life. “Oh, fuck, it’s freezing in here.”
So I carried her into my dad’s room. She was piled in towels on top but still naked and wet underneath. It was like picking up a strange furry animal and discovering its slick, heavy underside. I set her in my dad’s bed and piled all our spare blankets over her. I brought over the garbage can and asked if she could find a way to throw up. “I’ll get right on it,” she said.
I gave her a t-shirt, sat down on the edge of the bed. “I called the paramedics.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
They probably wouldn’t come anyway. “What were you thinking?”
“What were you thinking?” She was still slurring her words from the drugs. “Who lets some stranger into their house? What exactly were you expecting?” She said it in a leering way that set me off.
“What if you died here? In my house? I mean, fucking go next door if you want to do that.”
She went big-eyed and quiet. “I thought about it.”
A big angry weight collapsed through me like a live demolition. She tried to patch it over, take it back. “I didn’t plan it. I just saw those little pills and wanted to try them out. I didn’t want to die or anything. God.”
I shook my head. “Who does that?”
“I do,” she said. And then at last she started throwing up. The sound and smell of it was so familiar I felt myself shrivel up and sneak out. My body kept holding the garbage can for her but the rest of me was someplace else, staring at one little card pinned up over her head that just said SOLVITUR AMBULANDO and nothing else, and I wondered what it meant or if it could be a guy’s name and if so, who that would’ve been. There were all these mysteries now that no one could answer.
After a while there was nothing left in her stomach and she was seized up, gagging out yellow bile. I got her some water and she lay back. Her face was red and teary, strained like a balloon.
She said, “Don’t you have to go to work or something?”
I was keeping his printshop alive on my own now, but nobody much would notice if I opened a few hours late or not at all. So we sat together against the headboard, just breathing. A light snow started coming down outside and I think both of us dozed off for a while.
“Maybe we should take a vacation day,” she said, which woke me up. “We could turn up the heat real high and make sugary drinks.”
“OK,” I said. I had nothing against it.
“I want to go someplace really hot, you know? I want to go someplace where it’s sunny all the time.”
“You should.”
“Shit,” she said, like this was the equivalent of going to the moon.
She closed her eyes for a while and I thought she’d dozed off again. I sat watching the snow. My legs were falling asleep and my tailbone ached. I was considering
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