The phone rings three times, and the answering machine picks up. My own voice with his floods my ears, "SPEAK!" I'm about to hang up when I here, "Hello?" It is Roger. I stay silent. "Hello? Mark, is that you?" I hang up the phone. Well at least I know he is home, I can stop worrying now. I laugh at myself, knowing full well that I will still worry.
It has been a week, well six days to be exact, since I walked out the hospital. I walked to Penn Station and bought a ticket to Providence. I sat by myself on the train and allowed myself to mourn my life and what I was giving up. I allowed myself to cry. But I told myself, once I got off that train, I wouldn't look back. The train reached Providence much sooner than I was ready for.
Since I have been here, I found a job working at Starbucks and I am staying with the guy who hired me. A little humiliating, but I needed something. Plus it is right on Thayer Street, which borders the art school, RISD and Brown University, so a lot of creative people are around. The only problem is, every time I turn around, I think I see Roger or Collins, or even Angel. I try and push thoughts of them away, but it is seemingly impossible. Especially the nagging feeling I had, not knowing if Roger was ok.
I've considered calling Collins and letting him know I am ok, but every time I pick up the phone, I hang up. I don't know why exactly, except that I don't want to explain myself, because I don't have an explanation. I just had enough and truth is, I'm embarrassed. This is so unlike me, usually I am the one able to hold together, and Roger is the one to flee. The phone ringing breaks my thoughts. The guy I'm staying with is in the shower, so I answer the phone.
"Mark?" Shit, *69, why didn't I think of that?
"Yeah, it is me. How are you feeling?"
"Where are you? 401 area code? " His voice sounds tired, but not angry.
"Rhode Island, Providence…" I let my voice trail off.
"Oh…" Awkward silence… "Are you coming home?"
I close my eyes tight and try to find the strength, but the strength for what I am not sure of. "I don't know."
He stays silent for a few more seconds, "Well the hell with you then…"
And just before he hangs up the phone, "Roger, wait!
I can tell he didn't hang up, but he still isn't saying anything. "Are you ok?"
"I've been better. But Mimi and Collins are taking good care of me. I got out of the hospital the other day, and they haven't left me alone for a second."
I smile, in spite of myself, "Well good, I knew they would."
"It's not the same though…" His voice is soft, "Mark, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for driving you away, please come back."
I shake my head, not thinking that he can't see me. "No, I can't. Look, I got to go, if you need something, just call, ok?" I hang up the phone and stare at it, aching for it to ring again. Which it never does.