Sati (17 page)

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

'I better get going myself. Oh, have you seen Timmy lately? I keep missing him.'

She glanced across the swimming pool, in the direc-tion of Timmy's apartment.' I was going to check on him in a couple of hours. He wasn't at the meeting last night.'

'How's his cough been?'

She brightened.' Much better. He says he's been sleep-ing like a baby every night. In fact, it was funny, he fell asleep duringS ati's silence Monday night. When she asked us to open our eyes, he was snoring his head off.'

'It's great that he's getting lots of rest.'

'Yes.'Mrs Hutchinson paused.'B ut maybe that wasn't Monday night. No, I think it was Sunday.'She frowned.' That was the last time I saw him. That's odd, he's missed two meetings in a row. And he enjoys them so much.'

Suddenly, I felt uneasy.' What time does Timmy usually get up?'I asked.

She caught my drift immediately.'Usually between eight and nine. We'dbe waking him if we called him now.'

She rubbed her hands together.' But I've wakened him before, and he's not minded.'

I nodded.' Let's take the chance.'

Timmy did not answer his doorbell. 'Timmy,' I called. 'Timmy.' Waiting can be so hard.' Timmy!'

'Ishould have checked on him yesterday,'Mrs Hutchinson said anxiously.' I meant to, but I helped Sati make cookies for her meeting,and then I forgot Timmy!'She pounded on the door.' Timmy!'

I stopped her.' There's a better way. You have the master key to these apartments. Go get it.'

Her face was a mask of concern.' Do you think he's too sick to get up? That must be it. And I forgot to check on him. Lord, forgive me. Timmy!'

I put my hands on her shoulders.' We'll get the key together. He's probably just in the shower or something. Everything's going to be all right.'

I try to fool others almost as often as I try to fool myself. Fetching the key and opening the door, we found Timmy lying onthe couch with the TV on low. At first Ithought he was dead. He didn't respond when I shook him, and I shook him hard. His skin was clammy to touch but, leaning close, I could hear the faint sound of his wheezing breath.

'He's alive, isn't he?'Mrs Hutchinson whispered, stand-ing behind me.' Lord, he's got to be alive.'

'Yes, he's going to be fine.'I turned on the lamp and checked in his mouth. Nothing was obstructing his breathing,except perhaps two heavily infected lungs.' Timmy!'I shouted. He didn't respond. I slapped him. To my immense relief, he sighed softly and opened his eyes.

'Mike,'he croaked.' What time is it?'

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

'Time you saw a doctor.'Bending over, I scooped him off the couch and cradled him in my arms.' My car's in front,'I told Mrs Hutchinson.' Wake Nick and tell him to meet me out there. One of us will have to hold him while the other drives.'

'I can hold him,'she cried, desperate to make up for whatever she felt she had failed to do.

'No, you can't, nor can you drive. But you can come with us. Just get Nick.'

She turned for the door, then stopped.' Shouldn't we wait until Sati returns? She could look at him.'

'No,'I said.

I like doctors about as much as I like loan officers. The middle-aged M.D. who spoke to the three of us in the waiting room two hours after Timmy had been admitted somehow managed to appear both sympathetic and indifferent at the same time.

'I have bad news,'he said bluntly.' X-rays show his lungs almost completely blocked. We've ventilated him with oxygen, and he's now alert, but our options are limited. Lab says he has
P
neumocy
s
ti
s ca
ri
nii.

It's a parasitic form of pneumonia often found in AIDS patients. It's got a strong hold on him. It responds poorly to antibiotics.'

'Does it respond at all?'Nick asked.

'Not really,'the doctor said.' Not when it's this far advanced.'

'Are there any other forms of medication you can use?'I asked.

'There are, yes, but at this late stage in the ballgame, I doubt they will be very effective.'

'He's going to die?'Mrs Hutchinson asked in disbelief.

'I'm afraid so,'the doctor said.

She trembled.' But it was only Sunday he was feeling better than he had in months. How can he be dying

?'

'With a crippled immune system, an infection can go wild in a matter of days,'the doctor explained.'

Hours, even.'

'How long?'I asked.

The doctor shrugged.' He would do better if he would allow us to continue to ventilate him with a richer oxygen content. But he won't let us put him under an oxygen tent. In a way, it doesn't matter. He's not going to last long. I'm sorry I have to put it to you this way.'

Mrs Hutchinson began to cry. Nick wrapped an arm round her.' Can we see him?'I asked.

'He's in intensive care. Only immediate family is allowed in, and then only for brief periods.'

'We're the only family he has,'Nick said, his voice unsteady.' His parents despise him.'

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

The doctor considered. Til have a word with the nurse. Try not to tire him.'

The only time I had been in an intensive care en-vironment had been in high school when my mother had had a heart attack. In that hospital, the beds had been separated by nothing more than curtains. Here each patient had his or her own cubicle, the rooms spaced in a half circle round a computer-equipped nurses' station that resembled a space shuttle control board. The nurse on duty reiterated the doctor's final instruction, and we were led to Timmy.

There were drips in his arms and wires attached to his chest. His thin unwashed hair hung limp beside his pale face. My eyes stung at the sight of him, but I refused to cry. I had not cried since my mother died in my arms.

'How are you feeling?'I asked, taking his hand. The room was unusually warm but his fingers were cold.

Before, no matter how sick he'd looked, there had always been laughter in his eyes. Now he had to strain to keep them open.

'OK,'he whispered.' Thanks for bringing me in.'He sucked in a short breath.' What's the doctor say?'

'He didn't talk to you?'I asked.

'No.'

'He says if you keep your hands offus black boys you'll be just fine,'Nick said.

Timmy smiled faintly.' Tell him I wasin love and couldn't help myself.'He coughed.' What
did
he say?'

Had the roles been reversed, I would have wanted to know the truth.' You're sick, Timmy,'I said.' Real sick.'

He closed his eyes.' I feel sick."

Mrs Hutchinson came to his side.' This is a wonderful hospital. They can help you. They're giving you some medication. You've just got to rest and get your strength back.'

He smiled again, for her sake, though it was obvious he didn't believe her.' I will, Mrs Hutchinson. I promise.'

'Is there anything you need?'Nick asked.

Timmy looked up at him.' Yeah, I'd like to see Satiagain before I ... I can't see her. Is she around?'

'We'll get her for you,'Nick said.

'Those gifts you helped me buy her,'Timmy said.' They're in my bedroom. They're in a bag in the closet.'

‘I’ll bring them,'Nick said.' Anything else?'

He chuckled softly.' Oh, I don't know.'

'What is it?'Nick insisted.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

For an instant, he was his old devilish self.' Kiss me goodbye.'

Nick didn't hesitate. He leaned over and gave Timmy a kiss on his forehead.'N ow we'll be back, guy.

You just stay right here.'

Timmy nodded.'I will."

Taking the keys to the car, Nick and Mrs Hutchinson left together to find Sati.

Timmy rested with his eyes closed for a minute be-fore speaking next.' This is the end of the road, isn't it, Mike?'

'It looks that way. Your lungs are pretty messed up.'

'Must have been a draught,'he said, joking.' But I had been feeling better. I'd been sleeping, and I'd been think-ing maybe I was being cured.'He coughed again, harder than last time, his white colouring taking on a blue tinge. When he stopped, he lay exhausted. It was a couple of min-utes before he could continue.'

Remember that story I told you about that redneck? How I took a lick of his ice-cream cone?'

'That was a great story,'I said.

'Imade it up.'

'It doesn't matter.'

He sighed.' I made it up because it was something I'd always wanted to do since I got sick. People like that are always saying how gays are just getting what they deserve. You probably never knew how much stuff like that bothered me.'

'People like that are bastards, anyway. Let's not talk about them.'

A tear started down his cheek.'I know I shouldn'tcare. It just hurts to know some people would rather see you dead. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I wouldn't have touched their ice cream.'He struggled for breath.' I'm scared, Mike. I don't want to die.'

I squeezed his hand.' I don't want you to die, either.'

'Iwant to talk to my mom,'he said suddenly.

'What?'

'My mom and dad. I haven't spoken to them in years.'

'All right. I'll get hold of them for you. What's their number?

'Idon't know. I don't even know where they live now. But I have a cousin, Sally. She's in my black book at home. She should be able to get hold of them.'

I stood.' I'll find them.'

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

'Hurry,'he said.

In the hallway outside intensive care, I rang Nick's apartment and got Mary. She ran over to Timmy's unlocked apartment and found Sally's number. The area code was212- New York. I billed the call to the calling card. A young lady answered.

'Hello?'

'Hi,'I said.' Is this Sally?'

'Yes.'

'This is Michael Winters. You don't know me, but I'm a friend of your cousin, Timmy Pinton.'

There was a long pause, then a giggle.' Sorry, I had to stretch my memory. I haven't seen Tim since we were kids. How is he?'

'He's in the hospital. He's very sick. The doctors say he's going to die.'

'That's terrible,'she said, distressed.'W hat's wrong with him?'

'He has pneumonia. He has AIDS.'

'That's just awful. God.'

'The reason I called - he wants to talk to his mom before he dies. Do you have a number where I can reach her?'

'I'm afraid I don't. They've moved recently, and I never got their new number. To be honest, Timmy's parents are not two of my favourite people. But I have relatives who might have it. Could I call you back

?'

'Yes. I'm at the U.C.L.A. Medical Centre. Offhand, I don't know the number here.'

‘I’ll be able to get it. I'll have you paged.'

'I appreciate this.'

'Give Tim my best,'she said.'H e can call me collect, if he wants. If he's feeling up to it. I'm ashamed to say we hardly know each other.'

We exchanged goodbyes and I hurried to tell Timmy what progress had been made. Unfortunately, the nurse said he was sleeping and wasn't to be disturbed. I sat down to wait.

Hours crawled by. By noon Timmy had failed to waken, and Satihad failed to arrive. Impatient, I called Nick's place again. He answered, and explained that he couldn't find her.

'How come she's not at my place baking cookies like she always is?'I complained.' Fred must have seen her last. What does he say?'

'When they finished delivering his papers, she told him she was going for a walk.'

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

'How could she be taking a six-hour walk? Have you been out searching?'

'We've all been looking,'Nick said.' I'm going back out now. But Sati often goes for long walks. No one knows where to. How's Timmy doing?'

'The same. Worse, maybe. Just find her. It'll break his heart if he has to die without seeing her again.'

Nick lowered his voice.' Mary and the others are hoping Satiwill heal him.'

'That's insane,'I said.

'Mike, I'm hoping the same myself.'

What could I say? Putting down the phone, I silently cursed Casey Barbers. Had we never met, maybe I could have clung to the same impossible hope.

One o'clock came, followed by two and three, in the usual order. Timmy dreamed on. At a quarter to four, I heard myself paged. It was Sally. She apologised for the delay and gave me Timmy'sparents'

number. The area code indicated a town in Nebraska. But when I called, there was no answer.

Sitting and doing nothing has never been a strong suit with me. Now that I was no longer waiting for the phone number, I decided to join the search for Sati. I had no car, but I had money in my wallet and there were cabs sitting outside the hospital. Recalling her fondness for strolling along the water, I had myself dropped off at the beach.

The late afternoon was warm. For a weekday, there was a large number of people enjoying the sand and surf. Which direction to search was a toss-up. I headed north.

The sun had travelled several degrees closer to the horizon by the time I found her. She was sitting alone, or rather, without human companionship. A flock of seagulls was gathered round her, accepting pieces of bread from her open hand. They flew away at my approach.

'Where have you been?'I demanded.

The orange sun was bright on her tanned face.'H ere.'

'Timmy's in the hospital,'I said.' He needs to see you.'

She stood and brushed the sand from the pair of white trousers Mary had loaned her. ‘I’ll see him later,'

she said.

'You don't understand. There might not be a later. His lungs are about to fail.'

'There's time,'she said casually, stepping past me to the water. She let the foam wash over her bare feet.

I followed, my impatience growing by leaps and bounds.

'Sati, I'm serious. He asked to see you. It's important to him.'