It was Mark.
"Errrr." I groaned. "Sleeping." I turned away and folded my arms. I could hear Benny shuffle
in, wearing his ratty old slippers.
"What's going on? I heard talking. Is Roger awake?" He yawned, then Mark whispered.
"Shh. He's kind of awake, kind of not. Hard to tell, with his back turned."
"Oh. Is he. okay?"
"I dunno. I've only gotten three unintelligible syllables out of him so far." Just to show them that
I was awake, and hearing every word they said, I rolled over on my other side, peeked out from under the
covers, and gave them what has come to be known amongst my friends as Roger's Evil Stare- so scary it's
deserving of capital letters. There was an awkward silence after that, which Mark broke.
"Roge, what do you want for breakfast?"
"Nothing." I sat up, yawned, and ran a hand through my choppy hair. I felt like I'd been run over
by a semi-truck. You know the feeling. completely numb, maybe a little nauseous? My thoughts,
scattered though they were, kept returning to the fact that April was gone- as in forever- and she wasn't
going to come back. I barely thought about my own problems. Just as well, I guess.
Maureen, barely awake, stumbled into the room.
"What's happening, Mark?"
"Nothing. Man, you're up early."
"Yeah, I know. Where's Collins?"
"Didn't he have a job interview today?" Mark turned to me. "'Morning, Roge."
"Morning."
"Maureen and I are eating at the Life Café for breakfast. We'll understand it you don't wanna
come. Just know that the option's open, okay?"
"Me and Alison will be there too." Benny interjected.
"Like I said. You don't have to come."
"Thanks. I'll be fine here."
"Aww, Pookie!" Mark grabbed his camera, and herded the other two out the door.
"You sure you'll be okay?"
"Yeah." He ducked out the door, and locked it behind him. Finally, I was alone, or so I thought.
I went to my room, pulled on an old sweatshirt Mark and Maureen had given me for my birthday, and
rooted through my almost empty sock drawer to find the money my mom had sent me "for emergencies
only". Believe me, this was an emergency. I was headed for the door, almost home free, when someone-
none other than Thomas B. Collins- pulled back on my shoulder. I flinched.
"Collins! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Might ask you the same thing. You wouldn't be going to see The Man again, now, would you,
Roger?"
"No.." An obvious lie. I knew he knew it was a lie; it was pretty obvious, the way I rocked back
and forth on my heels and averted me eyes. Like I said, Collins is smart. He saw right through me.
"Roger, you might as well tell me the truth." His cold gaze pinned me to the very spot where I
stood just then. "You don't need to be doing this. It's such a bad habit- the worst." I cut him off.
"No, no. You listen to me, Tom. I'm miserable; I need a fix! You don't understand!"
"No, you're right. I don't understand how someone can voluntarily do that to themselves, Roger.
I don't understand! It's not gonna make your problems go away. Using again won't bring April back, and
even if it does distract you from your pain for the moment, the pain's still gonna be there when you get
back. And it sure won't make you healthy again, either."
"I know!" I was almost pleading with him now. "I can take care of myself, thanks just the same.
You're not my dad, Collins. And I know using isn't gonna fix my problems. Come on, move outta the
way."
"No." He barred my only exit. "I'm not letting you. None of us wants to watch you destroy
yourselves- it hurts us too. Do you know how many nights me, Mark, Maureen, and even Benny, waited
up for you and April, to see if you'd come home? Sometimes you didn't come home. When you did, you
were in a state that none of us wanted to see. It was the single hardest thing any of us had ever done,
watching you inject that stuff into your own veins, and stay silent. Now I'm saying something- stop. If
you can't stop for you, stop for us. Stop for Mark. It was really hard on Mark."
"Who cares if I stop now? What else can happen to me?"
"Yeah, but wouldn't it be a real credit to your name if, now, of all the odd times, you could go
clean?" My eyes widened with fear.
"No! I can't do it! I'm too weak!" I sobbed.
"I know you're scared. We'll all help you. All of us." Despite my protesting, he guided me back
into the loft, and made me sit down on the couch.
"Roger, promise me you won't leave this apartment to go buy from The Man." I glared at him in
response. "If," he added as an afterthought, "If I ever see you using again, I'm turning you into the cops.
Do I make myself clear?" And on that note, he left me alone again, slamming and locking the door behind
him as he went.
I sighed. Not only did I feel really crappy, but I was bored, too. I decided to watch people outside
through a small window. Sometimes it can be entertaining to watch people. I spotted the dancer who lives
one floor down walking up eleventh street. I think I'd met her once before- what was her name?
Margaret? Melanie? Mimi? Yeah, her name was Mimi. I was busy thinking about where I'd seen her
before, when the phone rang. I was feeling kind of weak, and didn't trust myself to walk across the room
without falling, so I let the machine get it.
"SPEAK!"
"Roger?" It was my mom. "Hi sweetie! You haven't called me in awhile, so I thought I'd call
you. I talked to your friend, Mark, the other day." Mark had been talking to my mom? "He told me you
were asleep. Well, I guess you're busy now, so I'll just hang up. Love, Mom." That was incredibly weird.
Now that the message was over, the loft was completely silent, and not the good kind of silent, either.
I hate being alone with my thoughts. They tend to be unpleasant. I kept thinking about April, and
HIV, and other stuff like that. Suppose I meet someone, like that'll ever happen, but suppose I do. What
do I say, "Gee, I'm sorry, I'd love to go out with you, but I can't, I'm afraid to get close to people because I
might die soon."? Yeah, that's smooth. I sound like I'm babbling on. Precisely why I hate being alone
with my thoughts.
A wave of nausea swept over me, and shivers racked my body, though I wasn't cold, or anything.
I didn't like this feeling at all. Scary. I was stretched out on the couch, once again, when I heard a key
turn in the lock. Time to put on the brave face again.
Mark, Maureen, and Benny set their coats on the table, then went over to check on me.
"How ya feeling, Roge?"
"Mark, I'm sorry."
"For what?" They all looked confused.
"I'm going clean, Mark." Everyone gave a huge sigh of relief, and smiled. Just then, I started
shivering again. Really shivering. I was covered in sweat. This was bad. Mark touched the back of his
hand to my
forehead, and exchanged a nervous glance with Maureen and Benny.
"Man, he's burning up! Maureen, get some water. Benny, get some towels and a bucket!"
"Mark?"
"What is it? We're all here for ya, buddy."
"Get outta the way, I'm gonna puke." A few miserable hours later, Mark and Maureen had fallen
asleep on the floor. Benny was
watching me clumsily feed myself soup- I say clumsily because, a, I was really shaky and not able to hold
the spoon steady, and, b, I wasn't keeping any of the soup down.
"C'mon, Roge. You can do it. Way to eat that soup." Benny's form of encouragement. Not too
helpful when you're eating. Collins burst through the door. "Hey, Collins. How'd the interview go?"
"Great! I'm going to MIT to teach a Computer Age Philosophy course!"
"All right! Way to go, man!"
"Wanna go celebrate?"
"Can't." He gestured towards me. "I have to baby-sit." I was too weak to give him an Evil Stare,
so I barfed on his shoes, out of spite.
"Crap! Alison gave me these! She's gonna kill me!" He ran of to change shoes, and Collins took
his place by the couch.
"Well, kid, you're stronger than I thought. Good for you. I'm going away for awhile, but you're
gonna be just fine. You've got Mark, and Maureen, and," He looked around the room. "and Mark." He
trailed off. I sat up, covered in beads of sweat, screaming at the top of my lungs.
"I'm on fire! Someone help! I'm on fire!!!" My skin was burning.
"No, you're not. Calm down."
"Huh?"
"What the hell is going on?" Mark and Maureen were awake now. I kicked the blankets off of
me, and dove onto the floor. Stop, drop, and roll- like we learned in kindergarten. It wasn't working; the
flames were still burning my skin. "I'm on fire! Somebody do something!" I grabbed Mark's hand- he
looked more scared than I'd ever seen him. "Mark! Mark! Help me!"
"Collins, get ice water, quick!" Next thing I knew, someone had poured really cold water on my
face. At least I wasn't on fire anymore.
"Thanks, you guys."
"Uh, don't mention it." By the looks in their eyes, I could tell this was a little more than any of us
wanted to deal with right now. No kidding. For sure, no one should ever have to see their friend like this.
Then again, no one should ever have to feel like this- sick one minute, on fire the next.
Collins and Benny lifted me back onto the couch. I looked at them all. So, what happens next?
"Errrr." I groaned. "Sleeping." I turned away and folded my arms. I could hear Benny shuffle
in, wearing his ratty old slippers.
"What's going on? I heard talking. Is Roger awake?" He yawned, then Mark whispered.
"Shh. He's kind of awake, kind of not. Hard to tell, with his back turned."
"Oh. Is he. okay?"
"I dunno. I've only gotten three unintelligible syllables out of him so far." Just to show them that
I was awake, and hearing every word they said, I rolled over on my other side, peeked out from under the
covers, and gave them what has come to be known amongst my friends as Roger's Evil Stare- so scary it's
deserving of capital letters. There was an awkward silence after that, which Mark broke.
"Roge, what do you want for breakfast?"
"Nothing." I sat up, yawned, and ran a hand through my choppy hair. I felt like I'd been run over
by a semi-truck. You know the feeling. completely numb, maybe a little nauseous? My thoughts,
scattered though they were, kept returning to the fact that April was gone- as in forever- and she wasn't
going to come back. I barely thought about my own problems. Just as well, I guess.
Maureen, barely awake, stumbled into the room.
"What's happening, Mark?"
"Nothing. Man, you're up early."
"Yeah, I know. Where's Collins?"
"Didn't he have a job interview today?" Mark turned to me. "'Morning, Roge."
"Morning."
"Maureen and I are eating at the Life Café for breakfast. We'll understand it you don't wanna
come. Just know that the option's open, okay?"
"Me and Alison will be there too." Benny interjected.
"Like I said. You don't have to come."
"Thanks. I'll be fine here."
"Aww, Pookie!" Mark grabbed his camera, and herded the other two out the door.
"You sure you'll be okay?"
"Yeah." He ducked out the door, and locked it behind him. Finally, I was alone, or so I thought.
I went to my room, pulled on an old sweatshirt Mark and Maureen had given me for my birthday, and
rooted through my almost empty sock drawer to find the money my mom had sent me "for emergencies
only". Believe me, this was an emergency. I was headed for the door, almost home free, when someone-
none other than Thomas B. Collins- pulled back on my shoulder. I flinched.
"Collins! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Might ask you the same thing. You wouldn't be going to see The Man again, now, would you,
Roger?"
"No.." An obvious lie. I knew he knew it was a lie; it was pretty obvious, the way I rocked back
and forth on my heels and averted me eyes. Like I said, Collins is smart. He saw right through me.
"Roger, you might as well tell me the truth." His cold gaze pinned me to the very spot where I
stood just then. "You don't need to be doing this. It's such a bad habit- the worst." I cut him off.
"No, no. You listen to me, Tom. I'm miserable; I need a fix! You don't understand!"
"No, you're right. I don't understand how someone can voluntarily do that to themselves, Roger.
I don't understand! It's not gonna make your problems go away. Using again won't bring April back, and
even if it does distract you from your pain for the moment, the pain's still gonna be there when you get
back. And it sure won't make you healthy again, either."
"I know!" I was almost pleading with him now. "I can take care of myself, thanks just the same.
You're not my dad, Collins. And I know using isn't gonna fix my problems. Come on, move outta the
way."
"No." He barred my only exit. "I'm not letting you. None of us wants to watch you destroy
yourselves- it hurts us too. Do you know how many nights me, Mark, Maureen, and even Benny, waited
up for you and April, to see if you'd come home? Sometimes you didn't come home. When you did, you
were in a state that none of us wanted to see. It was the single hardest thing any of us had ever done,
watching you inject that stuff into your own veins, and stay silent. Now I'm saying something- stop. If
you can't stop for you, stop for us. Stop for Mark. It was really hard on Mark."
"Who cares if I stop now? What else can happen to me?"
"Yeah, but wouldn't it be a real credit to your name if, now, of all the odd times, you could go
clean?" My eyes widened with fear.
"No! I can't do it! I'm too weak!" I sobbed.
"I know you're scared. We'll all help you. All of us." Despite my protesting, he guided me back
into the loft, and made me sit down on the couch.
"Roger, promise me you won't leave this apartment to go buy from The Man." I glared at him in
response. "If," he added as an afterthought, "If I ever see you using again, I'm turning you into the cops.
Do I make myself clear?" And on that note, he left me alone again, slamming and locking the door behind
him as he went.
I sighed. Not only did I feel really crappy, but I was bored, too. I decided to watch people outside
through a small window. Sometimes it can be entertaining to watch people. I spotted the dancer who lives
one floor down walking up eleventh street. I think I'd met her once before- what was her name?
Margaret? Melanie? Mimi? Yeah, her name was Mimi. I was busy thinking about where I'd seen her
before, when the phone rang. I was feeling kind of weak, and didn't trust myself to walk across the room
without falling, so I let the machine get it.
"SPEAK!"
"Roger?" It was my mom. "Hi sweetie! You haven't called me in awhile, so I thought I'd call
you. I talked to your friend, Mark, the other day." Mark had been talking to my mom? "He told me you
were asleep. Well, I guess you're busy now, so I'll just hang up. Love, Mom." That was incredibly weird.
Now that the message was over, the loft was completely silent, and not the good kind of silent, either.
I hate being alone with my thoughts. They tend to be unpleasant. I kept thinking about April, and
HIV, and other stuff like that. Suppose I meet someone, like that'll ever happen, but suppose I do. What
do I say, "Gee, I'm sorry, I'd love to go out with you, but I can't, I'm afraid to get close to people because I
might die soon."? Yeah, that's smooth. I sound like I'm babbling on. Precisely why I hate being alone
with my thoughts.
A wave of nausea swept over me, and shivers racked my body, though I wasn't cold, or anything.
I didn't like this feeling at all. Scary. I was stretched out on the couch, once again, when I heard a key
turn in the lock. Time to put on the brave face again.
Mark, Maureen, and Benny set their coats on the table, then went over to check on me.
"How ya feeling, Roge?"
"Mark, I'm sorry."
"For what?" They all looked confused.
"I'm going clean, Mark." Everyone gave a huge sigh of relief, and smiled. Just then, I started
shivering again. Really shivering. I was covered in sweat. This was bad. Mark touched the back of his
hand to my
forehead, and exchanged a nervous glance with Maureen and Benny.
"Man, he's burning up! Maureen, get some water. Benny, get some towels and a bucket!"
"Mark?"
"What is it? We're all here for ya, buddy."
"Get outta the way, I'm gonna puke." A few miserable hours later, Mark and Maureen had fallen
asleep on the floor. Benny was
watching me clumsily feed myself soup- I say clumsily because, a, I was really shaky and not able to hold
the spoon steady, and, b, I wasn't keeping any of the soup down.
"C'mon, Roge. You can do it. Way to eat that soup." Benny's form of encouragement. Not too
helpful when you're eating. Collins burst through the door. "Hey, Collins. How'd the interview go?"
"Great! I'm going to MIT to teach a Computer Age Philosophy course!"
"All right! Way to go, man!"
"Wanna go celebrate?"
"Can't." He gestured towards me. "I have to baby-sit." I was too weak to give him an Evil Stare,
so I barfed on his shoes, out of spite.
"Crap! Alison gave me these! She's gonna kill me!" He ran of to change shoes, and Collins took
his place by the couch.
"Well, kid, you're stronger than I thought. Good for you. I'm going away for awhile, but you're
gonna be just fine. You've got Mark, and Maureen, and," He looked around the room. "and Mark." He
trailed off. I sat up, covered in beads of sweat, screaming at the top of my lungs.
"I'm on fire! Someone help! I'm on fire!!!" My skin was burning.
"No, you're not. Calm down."
"Huh?"
"What the hell is going on?" Mark and Maureen were awake now. I kicked the blankets off of
me, and dove onto the floor. Stop, drop, and roll- like we learned in kindergarten. It wasn't working; the
flames were still burning my skin. "I'm on fire! Somebody do something!" I grabbed Mark's hand- he
looked more scared than I'd ever seen him. "Mark! Mark! Help me!"
"Collins, get ice water, quick!" Next thing I knew, someone had poured really cold water on my
face. At least I wasn't on fire anymore.
"Thanks, you guys."
"Uh, don't mention it." By the looks in their eyes, I could tell this was a little more than any of us
wanted to deal with right now. No kidding. For sure, no one should ever have to see their friend like this.
Then again, no one should ever have to feel like this- sick one minute, on fire the next.
Collins and Benny lifted me back onto the couch. I looked at them all. So, what happens next?