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Chapter 31/Page 6 |
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Well, there was but one flaw in my plan: 4 wasn’t speaking to me. I called her at home that night. She picked up, but as soon as she heard my voice, hung up. I called her back immediately and got her machine. “Listen, I know you’re pissed, but I really need to talk to you. Pick up.” Nothing. “Look, I don’t want to talk about us, but I have something important to tell you.” Nada. “Okay. Have it your way.” I tried her again the next day at the office, but again, she hung up on me. I went to talk to her face to face. “If you won’t talk to me, I have no other choice but to come up here.” I leaned in close and whispered, “you need to go to a doctor,” and walked away. She appeared at my office door at five after six. We just stared at each other for a minute. “What can I do for you?” She rolled her eyes toward Tall Straight Assistant, as if I was supposed to send him away now that she’d deigned to visit. “What?” I played dumb. “Let’s talk.” Now we were getting somewhere. I looked at TSA, who pretended to be keeping his nose in a file. “It’s quitting time.” “I’ve still got some-” “Go home.” “Yes, boss.” He got up and shot me the “Are you going to be okay” eyes behind her back. I nodded. “Shut the door.” I got up from behind my desk, so I could speak softly. “What is it?” Her voice trembled. “I’ve got something. You need to go to a doctor and get checked out.” She was visibly shaken. “What kind of something?” “The kind of something that passes between two people having sex.” She burst into tears. “You were married! You were supposed to be healthy!” “Oh... my... god!” I couldn’t fucking believe what she just said. That’s what this year was about? That’s what all these fucking women were crinkling their panties over -- that I had been with one woman for seven years, and in the post-AIDS meat market I was a safe bet? Here I thought they were attracted to my sparkling wit or my artist’s sensibility. Worse though -- I had recently, pathetically, down in the lowest basement floor of my soul, begun to delude myself that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t really as physically repugnant as I’d always feared. Who’d have guessed that the whole of my appeal was uninfected semen? “I WAS healthy.” I shook my head in disbelief and stared at her for a minute waiting for a response that never came. She was too internalized to speak. I wasn’t. “And fuck you for whoever this came from.” She just turned away and wiped her eyes. I paced a tight circle then faced her again. “You could at least deny it.” Goddamn it, my voice cracked because I was choking up. She quickly left in even more tears. I don’t even know how much of what I said she actually heard. I gave her a few minutes to get to her car before I headed out. Booze was tugging at my heartstrings, but I had to wait a week to let the antibiotics do their job. Just another thing to be pissed about.
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