11. Life's Winding Roads

Godzilla told Miki he'd take it easy, but he had an album to produce. With a steady flow of tea he could still sing perfectly...and so he did. Over the next two weeks, he mixed a song and spent hours working on it in the recording booth. The music he had in his hand just happened to be the song he wrote while looking at Miki's beautiful pictures. This music was intense, hard violins, piano and drums. It called for a triple forte climax. Godzilla stood closer to the recording microphone than usual to try and save his voice.

"I am not a hero," he gradually began his crescendo, "I am not an angel. I am just a man! A man who's trying to love her-unlike any other. In her eyes I am..."

The second Godzilla finished recording, he started to cough.

.o

"I thought I told you to take it easy!" Miki called into the garage.

"I am! I'm only doing one song today!" Godzilla replied, muffled by the door. He went right back to coughing. It sounded like he was hacking up a lung. "Dammit, I hate coughing."

"If you hadn't sung-"

The door opened and Godzilla walked out, wiping his mouth with a paper towel. "Miki, I really appreciate your concern, but I do have to finish this album."

She shot him a somewhat icy glare. Men were all the same! Unless they were dying, missing a limb or gushing blood, they would NOT quit punishing their bodies. "Nice...you made yourself all hoarse."

"Oh, good, then I can sing bass."

"Nooooo more singing for you today. Don't make me tape your mouth shut."

Godzilla flopped down on the couch next to her. He chuckled, trying to read the Elle magazine she was reading. "Yes, mother. I'll behave." He eyeballed the page again, "Handbags, hm? I like..." he moved his claw across the page to an ugly handbag that appeared made from several patches of fabric. "...that one. It goes with my leopard print skirt."

Miki smacked his arm with the magazine and laughed.

On TV, a newscast about Godzilla's most recent attack on Tokyo popped up on screen. They ran a story about how a crop duster's guidance system malfunctioned and caused it to drop its pesticide improperly. There was also speculation about why Godzilla didn't go further into the city, and one scientist volunteered that Godzilla only wanted the reactor. He even said that feeding him radioactive materials in a more rural area might mean less damage for the city.

Sneering, Godzilla changed the channel. King Kong was on. He sat back and watched it for a few moments.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really," he said sullenly, frowning. "They talk about me like I'm some animal. I want to just stand up and say 'stop!', but that would make me even more of a freak in their eyes." He glanced at the magazine again. "I need a handbag to look stylish when I go out to eat. Ooh! I know! I'll carry a Miki handbag!"

"A 'Miki' handbag?" Miki raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah!" Godzilla leaned over to pick Miki up on one arm like a child. "You're so stylish. I could start a new fad. Everybody will want a Miki."

"Hey!" She burst out laughing and kicked her feet. "Will I go with your leopard print skirt?"

"Oh, no, no, no. You...I'm saving you for my fur coat."

"I hope it's pink!" Miki laughed so hard that she snorted. The unfeminine sound embarrassed her. It also made Godzilla guffaw as well. They collapsed onto the couch together in helpless laughter.

I guess it's impossible to control one's heart, Miki thought, resting her head on Godzilla's chest. His heartbeat thumped strongly in her ear. She felt him draw his claws gently through her hair. Dammit, I'm so happy here...it seems like no matter what choice I make, I'll always be missing something! I hate this!

Suddenly, Miki gasped and sat up. "Oh! Crap! I'm supposed to meet Thomas to go over my prints! Crap!"

"Huh?"

"That mermaid photoshoot."

"Oh!" he sat up as well, "When do you have to be there?"

"Now!" Miki scrambled upstairs to put on decent clothes, apply makeup and straighten her hair. She could hear Godzilla coughing again downstairs. Maybe I'll pick up some cough medicine on my way back. It may not help, but I feel like I should do something. He sat with me when I was sick. Miki sighed and put her mascara brush back into the tube. She gave her curly bangs one more flip before she bounded down the stairs. "Okay, Godzilla. I'll be right back."

He was still coughing when she closed the door.

Miki dialed her cell phone as she charged across the beach. "Thomas! This is Miki. I'm so sorry! I got confused about the time, but I'm on my way right now."

"You don't have to come down. The pictures..." Thomas made a smacking sound with his lips, "...they're great. It's the date you had with Aleron last week that I have a problem with."

The door opened and Miki saw Godzilla stick his head out. She frowned, "What about that date?"

"He said you treated him rudely and walked out."

"WHAT?" Miki's eyes widened and a knot of rage tightened her stomach. "He was the one talking about himself like he was God's gift to this earth. He made improper advances on me, Thomas! I don't know what kind of girl he thinks I am, but I wasn't about to sit there and let him talk to me that way and then open my legs for him."

"And because of that, he doesn't want to work for our label anymore!" roared Thomas. "Do you have any idea how expensive it was to get him here?"

"So you expected me to sit there and smile while he basically treated me like a walking blow up doll?"

"I expected you to treat him with respect."

"He didn't give me any!" Miki cried, tears welling in her eyes.

"I don't know what's happened to you, Miki. You used to go along with everything. I guess we're done then. Don't expect me to call you anymore for anything, okay? Bye." Thomas hung up and the line went dead, leaving Miki to gape at a dial tone. She closed her phone and bolted back into the house. Godzilla called her name. She just ignored him and ran up to the bathroom to scrub off her makeup.

Godzilla finally caught up to her. "Miki? What happened?"

"That bastard fired me," Miki replied stonily, squinting in the mirror. "He fired me because I walked out on my date with Aleron. I guess I'm not supposed to stand up for myself or my friends!"

"Screw them. They just lost a great model." Godzilla cleared his throat. "Go to some other company and make Thomas sorry he let you go."

"Godzilla..." she sniffed. He always said sweet things when she felt bad, but right now she didn't want to hear it. Plus, on top of it all her stomach was turning from all the stress. "Can I please be alone? I'm mad right now and I don't want to say anything that might hurt your feelings. Just um, go downstairs and I'll make more tea for you later, okay?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I think I just need to take a nap or something." She wiped her eyes. The second Godzilla left, she burst into tears.

.o

A soft heartbeat sound and piano chords filtered into Godzilla's earphones. He said he wouldn't sing anymore today, but Miki sparked his inspiration again. If he wanted to nail a song, he had to sing it while he felt it. And he felt it now.

"Don't give up...it's just the weight of the world. When your heart's heavy I, I will lift it for you. Don't give up...because you want to be heard. If silence keeps you I, I will break it for you..." Flashes of the photoshoot with Miki rolled across his mind like a slide show. Her soft skin, her eyes and her beauty. He sang as if she stood right there. His knees bent and the pain in his throat became unbearable. He was so focused on expressing his love at the top of his voice that his pain didn't matter.

Godzilla gasped as he released the last note. He'd been so into the song that he almost forgot it was over. He let the violins fade, stopped the CD and played it back. Even though it meant he couldn't talk much for the rest of the day...it was worth it. His album was complete and this song became the exclamation point. If only he felt well enough to enjoy it. Nausea came onto him in waves. His head was throbbing and a few minutes with a thermometer confirmed that he did indeed have a fever.

Maybe he overdid it a little...resting a while would help the fever go away. The pulsing pain in his head worsened. He trudged slowly to the fridge for a cold bottle of water. Blackness pricked at the edges of his vision and his stomach lurched painfully upward. He turned towards the bathroom, but the fever assaulted him so suddenly that his knees became jelly. With no other choice, Godzilla fell to his knees to throw up in the garbage bin in the corner. Once the pressure was off he crawled towards the bathroom, thinking he could finish in the toilet. Halfway there, he heaved again on the living room floor.

.o

Water gurgled down the drain as Miki finished washing the evidence of crying off her face. She shut the sink off in time to hear a horrible choking sound. That didn't sound right! She ran to the top of the stairs. Godzilla was on his knees in the middle of the living room. His sides heaved and he vomited into the already growing puddle between his hands.

"Godzilla!" Miki dashed down the stairs. Being the daughter of a fisherman and having seen many disgusting things, Miki wasn't bothered by the sight or smell of the vomit. She could see corn, carrots and fish bones-stuff Godzilla ate the night before. "Don't move." she raced into the kitchen for the trash bin, only to find Godzilla already used it. Grabbing it anyway, she hurried back and get it under his face in time for him to puke one last time.

"Oh, Miki...I'm so sorry..." Godzilla gagged and dry heaved. "I better clean-"

"You park your butt on the couch. I'll clean up. C'mon," Miki slipped an arm under his chest and helped him stand up. He wobbled on his feet and collapsed facedown onto the couch. "You're burning up!" she gasped. "You should have listened to me...I told you that exerting yourself would make you worse."

"It all happened in seconds." Godzilla covered his eyes with a bone pillow. "Don't yell...head hurts..."

Rolling her eyes, Miki walked out into the scenic back yard to wash out the garbage bin. Then she spread paper towels over the puke puddle to soak it up and wiped it away. Godzilla watched all this in amazement. Miki was basically handling his vomit and didn't seem to care.

"Wow...usually people find puke gross."

"Oh," she softened her expression, "Before I started modeling, I used to help my dad clean the fish he caught. It's not much different than puke, so it doesn't bother me. Now if you started to eat it..."

Godzilla picked up the paper towel roll, tore off a piece and used it to wipe his mouth. "Don't worry...I won't." Suddenly, he pushed himself off the couch and staggered into the bathroom. The door slammed. "Oh, my God," Miki heard him moan right before he threw up again. He turned on the sink in a vain attempt to mask the sounds.

Miki moved the trash bin and tugged on the top of the couch. It gave way. Good, it unfolded into a bed. She headed to the upstairs linen closet for clean sheets and an extra pillow. The bed was literally one step away from the bathroom. That turned out to be a very good thing-the door swung open to release a foul odor into the living room. Godzilla hobbled out, holding his stomach. He was paler than normal, like ash, and barely even made it a step to the bed. She helped him lay down, letting him rest his head in her lap while she sat on the edge of the bed.

"I have no idea what's wrong with me," Godzilla moaned. "I was fine ten minutes ago..." he coughed, "and then, BAM, I thought I was going to pass out."

"Whatever it is, it's hitting you hard," Miki stroked his cheek. The heat from his head stung against her thighs. Godzilla could sweat just like a human, and the fact that he wasn't even damp worried her. "Have you taken your temperature?"

"It's a hundred and five."

"A hundred and five?" she gasped.

"Maybe higher now..." he trembled as if cold and cleared his throat.

She scooted away from his head and grabbed the thermometer off the kitchen counter. "How do I...?"

"Just like you do." Godzilla took it and placed it in the corner of his mouth. Miki watched the digital numbers jump. Ninety-nine, one hundred, one hundred and two, one hundred and five. It finally stopped at one hundred and eight point nine.

"This is too high!" she jumped up, panicking. "I'm going to get some ice. Don't move unless it's to use the bathroom."

Godzilla nodded and crawled more to the middle of the mattress, which creaked under his weight. Miki felt her own stomach swimming with nausea as she opened the freezer. Sympathy twinges, she told herself. Focusing on the task at hand helped her quell her unstable stomach. Godzilla always kept a lot of ice packs in the back of his freezer because getting hit with bombs sometimes bruised him, and the ice helped the pain. She snagged five and headed back to Godzilla, placing one pair under his armpits, another pair at his feet and the last one against his head. The cold made him shiver even more violently. His teeth chattered.

"Shh, I know...I know..." Miki tried to soothe him.

He reached over and took her hand. His huge, sausage-like fingers swallowed hers. She grasped the pad of his thumb and rubbed the end of his claw. Then his eyes bulged and he forced himself back into the bathroom. He emerged after several minutes and laid himself on his side across the mattress.

God, what if it's his appendix? Does he even have one? Miki stretched out a hand and lightly petted the back of his neck. "Anything I can do?"

"Make sure the Angels win the Playoffs." Godzilla mumbled.

Miki snickered. At least he was still saying silly things. As long as he remained in good humor it couldn't be too bad. Miki let herself relax a little. Maybe he'd be okay in a few days. "Is there anything else you need? Water, more pillows, the remote?"

He just shook his head at all of her suggestions. "I'm going to sleep it off."

"You sure?"

"Yeah..." he gathered the ice packs into a pile and rested his head on them. His eyelids fluttered shut. The congested rasp of his breathing sounded scary. Occasionally, he'd cough. Whatever this bug was...it proved to be more than just a cold.