::is being massaged by Wilson Jermaine Heredia clone:: Hello my little friends I have returned. Bwahahaha! Just when you thought it was safe to stop reviewing! I still don't own them blah blah blah. Now Wilson needs me, enjoy
Why?
Collins watched in horror through the glass wall that let him see Angel's room. Six or seven doctors marched in. Cold handed cold hearted doctors hooked him up to some strange machine. They watched the monitors and spoke in hushed voices as they took notes, as though he were their lab animal. Collins wanted to punch through the wall and strangle them all. Angel shivered. Those blankets weren't warm enough. If he were in there…God, if only he were in there.
Roger walked over to him and put his hand on Collins' shoulder.
"There only doing this to help him," he said, reading the teacher's thoughts.
"You don't all have to stay."
"But Angel's our friend too," Mimi protested.
He looked around at all of them.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"Mr. Collins." One of the doctors from hell had left the room. Soon, the others fallowed.
"Yes?"
"It doesn't look good. It seems Pneumocystis carinii pneumonia, or PCP, has hit him. It affects most people with AIDS. If you'd come to us earlier we could've helped but it seems to be too late. I'm sorry."
Collins wanted both to murder the doctor and commit suicide at the same time. Behind him, Maureen and Mimi began weeping and Roger punched the wall. Mark collapsed onto a chair and Joanne put her head in her hands.
"How long does he have?" Collins asked through clenched teeth.
"About two months, give or take. It would be better if you kept him here for that time."
"You mean…he'll die here?"
"Again, I'm very sorry. You may see him now. The anesthetic's wearing off."
The doctors from hell left and he went inside. Angel twitched and slowly opened his eyes.
"Collins," he murmured. His voice was slurred from the drugs.
The philosopher pulled up a chair and took his hand.
"My sweet Angel," he said kissing his forehead.
"Collins…" He was so weak. Every word was an effort. "I'm…dying…?"
Tears stung Collins' eyes as he nodded. Angel nodded too.
"Hold…me…" he whispered.
He did as he was told. Angel relaxed and nuzzled him.
"The gang's out there," Collins said. "Would you like them to come in?"
He shook his head, and then winced at the pain it caused him.
"Too…sleepy…Tomorrow?"
"I'm sure they wouldn't mind coming when you feel better."
They didn't talk for a minute, but Angel thought of something.
"Can…you…help…me…?" he asked slowly. "Call her…?
"Call who, sweetheart?"
He shivered and Collins held him closer.
"Call…Lily…for me?" he begged. "Tell her…why…I…stopped…"
"Why you stopped writing? I'm sure she'll be more than understanding."
"Ask if…she'll…write…more. You…read… letters… to me?"
He sounds like a little boy. God, he is beautiful.
"Of course, baby. When would you like me to make the call?
"Now?"
This surprised Collins.
"Now? Are you sure? That'll mean I have to leave."
Angel smiled.
"Mimi…comes in and…stays. You…please…go call…my Tiger Lily…?"
Collins kissed him.
"How can you die?" he sobbed softly. "Why'd this happen to you?"
He shrugged and flinched again.
"There's only us… There's only us…There's only this…Forget regret…Or life is yours to miss." Angel began to sing the affirmation he'd learned at the AIDS support group where he'd met Collins. The teacher finished it for him. Collins had a beautiful voice and Angel felt peace as he heard it.
"No other road, no other way. No day but today."
He kissed him again.
"I'm gonna go get Mimi, okay? Don't be scared."
"Too...late," chuckled Angel and he smiled.
He walked out of the room and everyone was staring at him. He kind of wished they'd leave.
"Mimi," he said, "he wants you. Will you stay with him while I go use the phone?"
"Course I will."
Collins crept to the phone and deposited a dollar. He had a feeling this would be a long conversation. He dialed the number and the phone rang once.
"Hello," said a cheery Spanish voice.
"Hello, is Lily there please?"
"May I ask who calls?" she asked in broken English.
"Tom Collins."
"Si, senor. I go see her."
She walked into the kitchen where Lily was eating an apple.
"Miss Lillian, you are having a phone call."
"Who is it?"
"A man, Miss Lillian. Tom Collins.
Lily let out a squeal, dropped her apple and ran into the drawing room.
"Collins, hi!" she breathed into the phone.
"Hey, baby." He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to start this conversation.
"God, it's good to hear your voice. What's up?"
He sighed.
"Baby, you got a chair near you?"
"Uh…yeah."
The tone in his voice worried her.
"Then you might want to sit down because I got some bad news for you."
Lily fumbled for the chair behind her and clumsily sat down.
"Collins, what the hell's going on?" she asked nervously.
"Ah…Christ, how do I say this? Well, I'm sure you're wondering why Angel hasn't written you."
"Yeah, I have. Is something wrong?"
Another shuddering sigh.
"Okay, baby, I'm just going to say it straight out. The reason he hasn't spoken to you is…He's got AIDS and he…he…he's dying. I'm calling you from the hospital. It's in his lungs. The doctors said he's got about two months to live."
He was right to ask her to sit, for if she hadn't been, she sure as hell would have fainted. She needed to vomit or scream or something. But nothing came.
"How long has he been sick?" she asked, her voice quavering.
"He's had it since I met him at Christmas, but he hasn't had any symptoms until now. It's getting worse and worse and tonight we had to get him to a doctor."
"Well then why are you calling me? I'm sure he needs you."
"After he woke up the first thing he did was beg me to call you. He says he's sorry about ignoring you."
It was then the tears came. Hot salty tears glided down her cheeks and splattered as they fell on the desk.
"Asshole," she sobbed. "You're at death's door and you apologize for not writing me. Oh, Collins."
Collins started crying too. He was a silent crier so he simply stood there with tears falling down his face.
"He wanted me to ask if you'd keep writing even if he can't respond. He likes your letters so much."
"I'll write every day! And tell him I'll come see him as soon as I possibly can. Oh, Jesus, Collins, you shouldn't be talking to me; you should be in that room with Angel. I…I can't talk anymore, I have to go."
"Hang in there, baby. Call me if you need anything."
"Same to you. Tell him I love him."
"I will. Bye, Lily."
He went to hang up but then-
"Collins?"
"Yeah, honey?"
"I love you too."
He smiled, despite the tears. In the agony he felt, those words were like beams of light spilling in on a cold dark room.
"I love you too, Tiger Lily. I'll call you if there's any change in his health. Bye."
"Bye."
She hung up. The room was spinning and so were her thoughts.
Dying…AIDS…Angel...Can't be true…Dying…Two months to live…In his lungs…Sorry for not writing…How could he be sorry…?
Everything seemed darker and she felt the sensation like she was falling. In this new void she could here sirens blaring in her ears. Sirens. Like the ones on the ambulance that had carried Angel to the hospital.
Suddenly the maid rushed in and cried, "Miss Lillian, what is being wrong?"
Only then did Lily realize that the sirens were coming from her. She was sitting with her face buried in her arms and loud animal-like noises were wrenching their way out of her. The woman's entry had brought herback to reality.
"Nothing, Rosa," she said quickly, drying her eyes.
"Okay. Miss Nikki asked me tell you to go change your clothes. You will be eating at Mr. Eric and Miss Maria's house tonight.
Great timing. He's dying and I have to go eat with the people who threw him out in the first place.
"Okay. Thanks, Rosa."
She left and Lily ran upstairs. She laid out her clothes on her bed. (All black, that ought to irk her parents pretty well.) Then she showered quickly and dressed. Just as she finished applying her makeup, her mother called:
"Lillian! We're going."
"Coming!" she said, annoyed.
She grabbed her journal and her coat and hurried down the stairs and out behind them.
Dinner was like tourture for Lily. Everywhere she looked she was reminded of Angel. Despite his parents' efforts to destroy all evidence that they ever had a son, his memory was everywhere. The adults were sipping wine and chatting about the latest development in the stock market. Every time she looked at Angel's mother Maria, she wanted to cry. Finally, after about half an hour, Lily's throat burned with the lump that had formed. She had to leave or she'd break down.
"Gotta use the bathroom." She choked out the lie to her parents and slowly left the room. Once she was out of sight, she bolted up the stairs and down the hall. She stopped at the last room. She knew the door would be locked. From around her neck she unclasped a chain, on the end of which was a key. She placed it in the lock and turned. The door creaked open and she entered Angel's old bedroom. She relocked the door and slowly looked around. It was still the same, but all trivial things that had been his had been sold. Lily spread her arms and spun slowly, falling on the bed. She climbed on and inhaled the smell of the bedding. It didn't smell like peaches and cinnamon. It smelled like detergent. The lump in her throat exploded and she had herself a good long cry.
She would have never believed that her tears would run dry, but eventually they did. Lily sat up and took another look around. She noticed the closet door was open. Something inside her told her to look in. So she slid off the bed and opened the door. It was dark, but way in the back she could see a shadowy shape. She went inside and retrieved it. Suddenly she recognized the shape of the object. It couldn't be! But it was. Upon bringing it into the light Lily saw the object, or objects, were Angel's old bongo drums. His prized possession. Her heart leapt as her finger traced the initials carved into the base of one drum. A.D.S.
This is a sign, Lily thought.
The question was, was it a good one or a bad one?
OK so now that we're through with the angst, here are your presents ::releases clones:: Major hugs to everybody who asked for Jesse L Martin! Y'all are my soul sisters for sure! Reviewers will get pizza (Michelle understands the PIZZa thing)
