Crawl #2
Author ' Howard Shapiro
Crawl 2
"Stop staring at me!" I felt like yelling to every person who walked by me. I was sitting
on a bench right outside of my office building. It was a beautiful Thursday in early-July 1995
and I was reading the 11/11/94 issue of the Big Fat Greg Dulli fanzine, minding my own
business. Still, I felt like everyone was staring at me. Being HIV positive will do that to you.
When you're 24 you think you are bulletproof. No protection, no problem, right?
Wrong. After I got the news from my doctor two years ago, I walked out of her office and just
sat staring straight ahead in the waiting room. I just felt so unbelievably alone. I wanted to tell
the people sitting around me that I was a really good person and that this shouldn't be happening
to me.
The reality was that I wasn't really that good a person. Pre-diagnosis I'd go to bars most
nights, get sloppy drunk and hook up with some nameless and faceless guy. We'd sleep
together once, maybe a couple of times. Think I was proud of this, well maybe but the shame
you never lose. I wasn't afraid of the consequences; the only thing I was afraid of was having
the guy cling to me. In the end, all those guy's knew about me was that they had slept with a
Six-foot Deborah Harry look-alike named Jan or Nikki or whatever name I came up with that
night. My conscience couldn't be found and I became completely unaware of the damage a lie
could do. Sorry boys, you bit into a rotten one now, didn't you?
But that was behind me as I was getting ready to go out on date number five with this guy
named Reese Butler. He was really nice, too nice and, frankly, too good for me. We met at a
Soul Asylum concert last month. I liked being with him, but I threw off the vibe that I didn't
want to be with him all that much. Still, he kept coming back like a sweet puppy. I knew if I
broke down and told him my secret that I'd fall apart and be tied to him. And, heaven knows,
who'd want to be with a needy, lying, self-loathing and HIV positive girl who deep down hated
herself, her life and most of the people she came into contact with on a daily basis. The best part
was I didn't even know why I felt this way.
I asked him to take me tonight to my younger cousin Mandy's wedding. I needed him
there because all of my relations would ask me when I was going to be getting married and start
having kids and blah, blah, blah. I couldn't face that shit by myself.
This was actually the first time I let him pick me up at my apartment, as I didn't want him
to pull a Seinfeld and look in my medicine cabinet and see all of the anti-AIDS medications I
was taking.
"Sorry I'm late," he said as I opened the door and let him in. "There was an accident in
the tunnel."
"It's OK, trust me, I'm in no rush to get there," I said.
"I'm really sorry about being late, I hope you're not mad," he said as he leaned against
the wall by my kitchen.
Crawl 2
Page 3
"I'm not mad at you," I said as I got my purse.
"Sorry," he said.
"Listen, you'll be getting a bunch of questions from my relations about when you are
going to pop the question to me," I said as I sat down on the couch to put my shoes on.
"We've only gone out five times," he said.
"Four," I snapped back.
"OK, four. It's not like we've been going out for a few years or anything. This is
actually the first time you permitted me to come into your building," he said.
"There's a reason for that," I said softly. "Trust me; you don't want to get too close to me."
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because'¦you don't even know me. Or'¦the truth about me," I said slowly as I looked down.
"Such as?" he asked.
"I don't think now is the time to discuss it," I said.
"Why, you said it didn't matter if we were late for the wedding," he said.
"Well'¦" I said.
"OK, I'll fill in the blanks. You want to get together with an old boyfriend; you don't
have enough time to be involved with me or-" he said.
"I'm HIV positive," I said calmly.
"Yeah, right, and I'm taking a rocket ship to the moon next week," he said without
missing a beat. I think he thought I was joking at first, but the look on my face must have clued
him in that I was dead serious. Finally, he said, "I'm so sorry, Marissa. Can I help you in some
way? Any way?"
"You just don't get it," I shouted.
"Get what," he said quickly as he shrugged his shoulders.
"I have no idea what your definition of a friend or girlfriend is, but I'm not it. If this nice
guy, humanitarian shit you're shoveling me is company then I'd rather be alone. I've told you
the truth, which is a first for me, and I will not go to hell for what I could do to you," I said.
"Do to me?" he asked.
"What do you think got me in the predicament I'm in?" I asked him. He looked confused
and I said, "Sex. I craved it, had to have it, lied to get it and now I'm in this jail cell because of
it."
"So, we'll just hang out, go places together'¦" he said.
"I won't crawl to you or anyone else," I said sharply.
"I'm not asking you to," he shouted back.
"Look, bottom line, this has nothing to do with you. It's my curse and it's about my
regret. So, if you still want to go, let's just go now," I said as I got up and walked to the door.
It was so late that we drove right to the hall where the reception was being held. We
hardly spoke at all. We found our table number and I went straight to the bar. Seven and seven
was my drink of choice and as I looked back at the table I saw Reese talking to my Aunt Carol.
Carol was a single mom whose eight-year-old daughter, Abigail, had Spina Bifida. She was so
tiny and adorable; it broke my heart to see her with her little walker.
Throughout dinner Reese kept looking at me in an apologetic way, but he had nothing to
be sorry about as I finally whispered to him. After dessert the DJ played the usual wedding set
list and Reese asked me to dance but I told him I really didn't feel like it. When "Dancing
Queen" started Reese stood up and walked over to where Abby was sitting.
"Abby, I really feel like dancing and your Cousin Marissa has a sore knee, so would you
please dance with me?" Reese asked Abby as he crouched down to look her in the eye.
"I don't know," Abby said quietly as she looked over at Carol.
"Sure you can, if it's OK with your mom, I'd love it if you'd go out there with me. I may
be tall with big duck feet, but I'm not a bad dancer," he said reassuringly. "It's OK, just hold my
hands, it'll be fun."
"But'¦" Abby said.
"I know you can do anything you put your mind to. I'll try and keep up with you. OK,
dancing queen?" he asked.
Carol smiled and said it was OK and Reese held Abby's left hand as they walked up to
the dance floor. It was like the Red Sea parting as six foot six Reese and three foot six Abby
with her walker made their way to the middle of the dance floor.
Everyone was now looking at them. Back and forth they moved very gently and slowly.
Abby started smiling as she moved about and Reese winked and smiled back at her. At that
point I started to cry. When the song ended everyone started applauding. Reese
looked a little embarrassed as he waved and walked back to the table with Abby.
"Why are you crying, I wasn't that bad up there," Reese said as he sat down.
"You know that every woman in this room wants to marry you now, including Mandy the
bride," I said to him.
"Well, that's nice but I'm all yours," he said.
I went into the bathroom because I couldn't stop crying. As I watched them dance it was
like layers were being pulled off of me. It was an epiphany of sorts. All of the sudden I realized
I didn't have to lie or think the worst of myself. Seeing the goodness in Reese's heart somehow
made me realize that maybe, just maybe, there was something good inside of me too.
Summer turned into Fall and our relationship strengthened. On my birthday, September
10th, we sat on a bench along the Mon River by Station Square and talked for four hours. It was
like something out of a movie as the moon and city lights shone on the river. It was perfect,
except in the back of my mind I wasn't sure how many more birthdays' I'd have left.
"Are you OK? Do you want to wear my jacket?" Reese asked me.
"No, it's OK," I said. "I just, you know, I mean who's to say this won't be my last birthday."
'Things will work out, I promise you," Reese said as he squeezed me real tight.
"Honey, you can't promise me anything. Promises are made to be broken," I said as I
looked down at the ground and tears started to stream down my cheeks.
"I'll always be with you," he said as he gently lifted my chin up and wiped the tears from
my cheeks. "That promise will never be broken."
"I just don't want this feeling to go away. How I feel about you, how I now feel about
myself, this is how it's supposed to be. Promise me you'll never go away, please don't go
away," I cried out.
"I won't'¦ I won't. I promise," Reese said as I looked deep into his eyes.
And he didn't. He was with me as I received chemotherapy to treat the lymphoma that
was destroying my body. He would pick up my prescriptions and sit with me when I was too
sick to get out of bed. By February 1996 he saw the end I was facing, the gradual debilitation the
disease caused.
I started to write in a diary on the days that I felt up to it and I wrote one page for Reese
and told him to only read it after the end had come.
Reese, because you are reading this, I'll assume that I've moved on. What I wanted you
to know is that you meant so much to me in these, my last few months. If only I had met you
earlier I know I wouldn't have to write this. When we met all I was looking for was someone
who I could tell my troubles to and you were so much more then that. I asked the Lord how I
got in such a mess and if he'd lift me out of the night. I guess he's done that now, but not before
I received his greatest gift, getting to know you. From may this be love; to can this be love, to
this is love is the trip I made with you and even though you're away from me now, a part of you
will always be with me.
With all of my love and until we meet again,
Marissa Rita Allen
1/21/96
Want to comment on this Short Stories?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|