The idea is still bugging me, so I wrote a sequel to A Thousand Sweet Kisses. It was too sad, and it wasn't finished. I still have more to say, so here it is.
965
965
965
The number was firmly burned onto Collins's brain. It was popping up everywhere, too.
Lunch at the Life Café with Mark - $9.65
The page he assigned for his students to read was page 965.
The expiration date on the AA battery he bought was 9-6-05.
Mark was complaining about how he had 965 minutes of film to sort.
He was beginning to think that Angel was sending him a message.
Even when he went to the doctor's for a regular check up, he was sent to room number 965.
"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Collins, but your T-cell count is extremely low. I have reason to believe that you wont last until next Christmas."
"It's only November!" Collins exclaimed.
"Exactly, Mr. Collins. I'm so sorry…" Collins didn't know what to feel. He would be gone soon, gone away from the torture of everyday life, but also gone from his friends, his New York family.
And he could be with his Angel. His beloved Angel. Finally, finally, finally. Angel.
--
Crisp, white sheets surrounding him. He knew he was being kept alive unnaturally, all the life, all the spunk had been taken out of him.
He gathered all of his friends, including Benny, around him one last time. He spoke to each of them separately.
"Joanne, girl, you're the best. Putting up with Maureen is not the easiest thing - I know, I went through high school with her – but you manage. Keep her in line; don't let her do anything too drastic, okay? Keep doing what you love, save some lives out there, okay?"
"Maureen, the drama queen. I love you, girl. You kept me sane all through high school, even if I drove you crazy. You helped me through everything, including us being 'that pair of fags' who were rumored to be going out. You are one crazy bitch, and I love you for it."
"Benny. Benny, Benny, Benny, Benny, Benny. You have changed so much since I first met you. You were so lost, man, I thought that if I didn't find you, some wolfs would. But we got you man. You, me, Roger, Mark, and Maureen… we had some crazy times. Keep those with ya as you go about collecting rent from our loft. And go easy on Mark and Roger."
"Mimi, honey, I didn't get to know you all too well, but you were my Angel's best friend. I am so grateful to you for that, you cannot imagine. If you two hadn't met, I wouldn't have my drag queen. Yea, she told me how you helped her with that. Thanks so much for being there for her, for me. Don't give up, Mimi-chica. You are their last connection to our Angel."
"Roger, I know you're hurt, but let Mimi help you. You can learn a lot from her. Keep going to Life Support, you don't know how happy that made me when you showed up that one day. Get back on track, get Mimi back on track, and take care of yourself. Don't let the HIV get to you – take your meds, guy."
"Mark, man. Don't hide behind that camera lens. I know everyone says it, but come out and live a little. 'No Day But Today,' boy. You need to learn that. You made the film of us living with disease, now you need to live, too. Put away the camera for a day, and live."
"All you guys… I love you so much. Keep me in mind, and live. I have one last request." Tears sprung to everyone's eyes as he said 'last.' "Don't be all sad over this, people. You are the best family anyone could ask for. I love you all so much… don't think about the end too much. Think about today. Think about life. Angel and I will always be with you guys."
"Now, let's cut the sentimental crap, and you guys need to get back to work and life. I've kept you here long enough. Shoo! Mark, Roger, you stay, though. You guys don't have real jobs, and I got something to show you." He pulled out a piece of paper, and set it down on the little table beside him. It read, I, Thomas B. Collins, leave all my junk and possessions to Mark J. Cohen and Roger M. Davis.
"Collins…"
"Don't argue. Now, you two get back to your jobs." They didn't argue.
A nurse came into the room once she saw all of the visitors go out.
"Are you ready, Mr. Collins?"
"I just need my coat." He clutched it, and with Angel's face in mind, he gave the command.
"Turn off the machines."
--
Floating, falling faster faster!
He landed on a puffy something, coat in hand. He slipped it on, remembering Angel.
Angel…
Where was she? Then he heard a "Collins!" and an attack from behind. His heart floating, he turned around. There was Angel, beautiful as ever. She was in her favorite outfit, the one she wore to the Life after Maureen's riot.
"I saw you, I was waiting for you, oh, Collins, I missed you." Collins held his love close, never wanting to let her go again, tears leaking from his eyes. Without a word, he tilted her head up and kissed her. 966.
He was still counting.
Okay, that was the end, I think. Yea, I'm pretty sure.
No, I don't know if hospitals let you say to turn off the machines, but for the purposes of this story, you are allowed to give the order, alright?
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