The Void (8 page)

Probably...

"I don't like pain."

No one does...

"I wish Michael wasn't in pain."

I wish he wasn't, either...

"I don't know what to do anymore, Max. I just don't know anymore,"
and then the sound of sheets ruffling, breath ragged, and she
collapses into tears and coughing. I hate to hear her agony, but
strangely I hope that I am at least of some comfort...

"Max, how many did you take?"

Jenny sounds urgent, but I don't care.

My world is blurred again, as always now, the ceiling my only care
of focus. I think she's beside me, but I don't look at her; I just
stare at the ceiling.

"Max!"

"What?" I finally grumble.

"How many of these did you take?"

She holds a prescription bottle in front of my face. I don't know
how many I took. I had lost count somewhere after my fifth for the
day. But I did know that I was only supposed to take two, so that's
what I finally say: "Two."

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"You took more than two, Max, you're barely able to breath right
now!"

Am I not breathing? I feel like I'm breathing...

"I took two," I repeat.

"Max, please, just tell me!"

"Two!" I shout, my eyes still locked onto the ceiling, never
breaking my concentration for even a moment. I have almost finished
counting the spots...

"Argh!" Jenny grips my shoulder and throws me forward in the
chair. The ceiling is lost; I'm sad.

"Hey!"

"Max!" She put her hands on my face, pushing my cheeks against
my jaw bone, her face now inches from my nose. She looks furious.

"What?" I barely care...

"Just tell me, okay? Please?"

"Fine," I mumble, smacking her hands away from my face. They
smell funny; why do her hands smell funny? "I took five."

"Five? Are you sure?"

"Yes, well, maybe, five for sure, maybe an extra or two, I don't
know. Let go of me."

"I'm... I'm not touching you."

"Oh," and I scan the room. Everything looks different, like I
was in another room altogether, except my television is in this room;
also, all my pictures, including the one from our trip to Maine last
year.

That was fun...

Where is Jenny?

I can't find her, suddenly...

Where is she?

I try to stand, but stumble.

"Jenny?"

No answer.

Am I imagining her?

I finally get to my feet and amble into the hall, down the hall,
into the kitchen. She is no where to be found. Is she home? "Jenny,"
as I head into the next hall, to the stairs, looking up toward our
bedroom. I don't know if I can handle the stairs... "Jenny?"

"Max?"

Her voice echoes, but from where? Not up the stairs; maybe from the
den? It sounds like the den.

"Jenny?" I head toward the den, back down the hall, through the
door. The books smell good; I always loved that smell of books. I
didn't read nearly enough, but that smell was worth all the books I'd
bought over the years and never enjoyed.

"Max?"

Nope, not in the den.

Where the hell is she?

Back in the hall, into the kitchen, out onto the porch, and out into
the backyard. "Jenny?"

"Max, what are you doing?"

I spin and see Jenny, standing on the porch, looking out at me with
an expression of abject terror. Why is she so scared? What is there
to be scared of? Everything is wonderful!

"I'm outside!"

"You're naked!"

"What?" I look down; Jesus, I
am
naked!

Why am I naked?

"Why am I naked?"

"Max, get inside! Right now!"

"No!" I feel like I need to be doing something...

"Now! Right now!"

"I need to find Jenny!"

"Max!" And she comes to me, grips my arm and yanks me toward the
porch. "
Get inside!
"

"Let go of me!"

"Max, come on!"

"Let go!" And I rip my arm from her grip, finally free. But then
there is silence. I look around, and Jenny is gone again; where did
she go? "Jenny?"

"Max," her voice weak now. I look down.

There she is! Why is her face covered in red?

What is that red...

"He looks pale," Brian remarks, in the void.

"He does. Why does he look so pale?"

That was Jenny. She sounds frantic.

"He's running a bit of a fever."

"Is there anything we can do for him?"

"Mrs. Aaron," the doctor begins, but then never continues. Jenny
did not protest; no one spoke on the matter again. I don't know what
happened, what was gestured, but it seems everyone agreed that I was
as I should be and that there was nothing to do.

"How much longer does he have?"

"I don't know," the doctor answers.

"Can you guess?" That was Brian.

"Well," and then a brief pause, I assume while reviewing my
various medical instruments. "His heart is still beating strong.
It's only been a few days since we removed the feeding tube, and he
has a relatively healthy body. It could be quite a while longer."

"How will we know? I need-" and then Jenny coughs. "I want to
be here... when... when he goes."

"He won't go suddenly."

"Are you sure?"

"His body will go slowly into distress. He'll show more symptoms
of undernourishment before he nears the end and his heart begins to
weaken."

"That sounds so... rough..."

Yes, it does...

"He isn't able to feel anything, mom."

"I know," she whispers.

I
can
feel; I'm hungry... I think...

"I just don't want to watch him die."

"You don't have to, mom!"

"I can't leave him. I have to be here with him."

"He's not here, mom."

"He's right there, Brian!"

I assume she is pointing at me...

"That's not dad! That is meat and bones!"

"Brian-"

"Dad is gone, he's been gone for years! That is his shell, the
machine he lived in. He's not inside it, his brain is not working.
You don't need to watch his body stop working, it won't bring you any
comfort, mom!"

"It's not about
my
comfort!"

"But-" His voice is forceful, almost angry.

"Brian, drop it!"

"Mom, you have to take-" And now pleading.

"No." Jenny sounds calm, reserved.

"Mom, this is important!"

"Your father is important."

"That is
not my father!
"

Do not shout at your mother!

"Brian," she begins, sounding calm. "Enough."

And Brian sighs, a loud crashing noise.

He does not press further...

"You need help, Max."

My father...

"You're getting help, Max."

He is standing over me, looking an odd mix of furious and terrified.
Above him is the ceiling; that much, I am sure. I also know that the
room and the house is empty. Jenny left days ago; or maybe it was
weeks? Or months? I have no concept of time.

"I'm fine."

"Max, enough is enough."

"Where is Jenny?"

"Don't get worked up, okay?"

"Where is Jenny?" I repeat.

"Everyone is here to help you."

"Where is Jenny?"

He sighs, rubs his face. "In the kitchen."

"She came back?"

"Came back?"

"She's back?"

"She never left, Max!"

"What?"

I am confused. I am sure she left.

At first I thought I had killed her, but then she just wasn't there.
So she had to have left. She had to have... Nothing else makes any
sense, nothing makes any sense. What is going on?

What is this madness?

"I know she left."

"Max," and he comes down onto his knees and puts his hand on my
chest. "Jenny never left."

"Why are you here?"

"Max, I want you to listen closely to me..."

I blink and try to sit up, but find that I can't.

Why can't I sit up?

"Why can't I sit up?"

"These men are here to take you to the hospital. They're going to
get you the help that you need. Don't fight them, okay?"

"What men?"

"Behind me, these men."

I see no men behind him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't move, Max."

And then they are there, three of them, big men, wearing all blue.
One has a hat, I think. Another is holding a weapon of some kind; I
don't know which, but it is very large. He looks angry.

"What is happening?"

"Max, everything is going to be-"

"What is this?"

I feel suddenly lucid, angry. I try and throw myself up, but go no
where. Am I restrained? Am I being held down? Why can't I sit up?

"This is for your own good, Max."

"Jenny!"

"Jenny will see you at the hospital."

"
Jenny!
" I scream.

"She will see you at the hospital!"

I tear at my arms, desperate to stand, to go and find my wife! Why
was my father keeping her from me? What is going on? Who are those
men- wait- those men... I don't see them?

Where are they?

"What are you doing?"

"Max-"

"What is this? What is going on?"

"Max!"

"Jenny! Jenny!" I start to scream.

"Max, stop fighting!"

"
What did you do with Jenny?
"

"What are-"

"Goddamnit, let me go!"

"I'm not touching-"

I kick at the air, swing my arms violently. I am utterly terrified;
something awful is about to happen, I know, I am certain. Nothing is
right, this isn't right, what is my father doing?

"Stop it! Let go of me!"

The men are grasping at my arms now, trying to restrain me, trying
to keep me from fighting.

"Don't touch me!"

"'Max, please-"

"Fuck you! Let go of me!"

"Max, stop it!"

"Argh!"

And then a pain, a pain in my arm; why does my arm suddenly hurt?
What are they doing to me?

"Everything is going to be okay, Max."

My father seems more calm, now.

Why is he calm?

I keep kicking, at the air, at the men, at my dad, at anything I can
reach, as the world starts to change, to darken and melt. I feel my
mind slipping entirely; not the usual sense of delight, but a
miserable feeling of decay and despair.

I am dying... I am sure I am dying...

"Dad," I mumble.

"It's okay, son." He sounds weird.

"Dad, I don't want to die!"

"You're-" and then everything left me.

"Hey," was the somber, sour whisper of Jenny, confusingly loud
in my left ear, absent in my right. She must be right beside my head,
speaking softly only to me. A word from wife to husband, at the
end...

"I couldn't sleep."

Is it nighttime?

"And I wanted some time alone with you."

I miss being alone with you...

"It's peaceful here, at night. Nothing but a little beeping and
the nurses. It's dark."

I don't like the quiet.

I prefer words.

"I always feel... better... when I'm with you. I even feel better
being with you now, like this. Even at our worst, just being beside
you was enough to keep me... calm... relaxed. You're my center."

You were always the stable one.

"I don't know what I'll do."

You'll be fine, Jenny.

"You know, before this, the last time you were in the hospital, I
thought about what I'd do if you left us. You looked so... rough... I
just didn't know what the drugs had done to you. They said they were
having trouble getting your heart rate under control."

I never knew that...

"And I thought, I'll move in with my father. I thought, Brian will
have a good home there, and he'll have someone to teach him to be a
man."

Your dad would've taught him well...

"But then, at night, when the madness died down and it was just me
and you, alone in a dark room, you sleeping soundly- the same
beeping- I thought, 'he needs his dad.' His grandfather would have
done his best, but you will always be his dad."

I love him so much...

"And you just-" and her voice breaks, a quick sniffle, "you
just can't replace a dad."

I know that all too well...

"But now he's all grown up. He's got a girl, she loves him and he
loves her, and he's planning to move back home. I don't want to do
that to him."

I don't want him to have to do that, either...

"But I also don't think I can do all this alone. I just... I don't
know how to...
be
... without you. And there is so much...
extra... coming to deal with. I barely even know how to do the house
finances, you know? Although I've done pretty good since I first...
lost you... You'd be proud of me, I think."

I've always been proud of you, Jenny.

"I just..."

And a cough, a sob; her voice was failing her. I could hear the
crackling sound of lungs ready to break forth tears. I have no desire
to hear her cry again. I hate to hear such horror and have no ability
to wipe her cheek, no strength to put her to my shoulder and let her
know that everything is going to be alright...

"I never imagined this is how it would end."

I never considered it ending at all...

"Even at our worst, I never
really
imagined it would end...
like this. I always believed you'd make it, that you'd pull through.
I worried about you, and I may have
thought
about losing you,
but I never believed it. It was always... distant. A remote
possibility."

I wish I was smarter...

"And now, seeing you lying here..."

Silent, still...

"...it just seems so... real... now..."

I wish this were all a dream.

"And soon, you'll be gone," her voice cracks, she sniffles, the
ruffling of sheets once again. That same noise, I never know what it
means, what is happening around me, but I can imagine...

I imagine her, hands now rubbing my arm.