The whole city flashed with light. Thunder cracked viciously through the darkened clouds that downed the buildings below. My heart drummed fast I watched the ant sized cars scramble across the roads, furthering my worry. I took my chair and pushed it to the large widow of the activity room and hoped that I could at least get a view of her entering the building.
"Please get here, please…" I croaked, sipping my still deactivated coffee. Even though I desperately wanted regular I was getting used to not having it. My hands even shook a little less, though they did shake. Rocking forward a little, I could feel a big beefy hand on my shoulder.
"Oh, what do you want!" I spat out anxiously, shrugging my shoulder free.
"Ok, I can see you're still mad," Miss Fatty Cat says, "I don't blame you." She took a seat from behind her and dragged it next to me. I groaned, finding her to be closer then I wanted. But with a figure like hers it's hard to not be. She tried to place another sausage stuffed arm on me before I shudder it away.
"Listen…I wanted to apologize. Even though it's my job to help you, I don't think I should have been that mean about it. We are just supposed to provide the tools and let you build when you want to."
"Gees, lady what are you talking about?" I whimper, looking intently at the wet concrete near the front door. My heart sank a little when I saw the only dark haired woman turn her head. It wasn't her.
"Ok, so apparently I'm going fuck this up too," she sighed heavily, formulating her next words carefully, "See...I…had been in the exact same place you are now." My ears perked up at that. If I were a dog, I'm sure they would have pointed her way.
"I had a husband, a daughter, and a really great life. Now, I am not going to sit here and rehash my sob story to you. I think we can fill in the blanks there. I just wanted to say that…when I saw you it was like seeing myself. I just thought that if I could somehow wake you up to your hell and fix you maybe…it'd be like fixing myself before it was too late."
"Oh…"
"Yea…and…I can tell that didn't work at all." A woman of hedge height walks by and I jump out of my chair, plastering myself on the glass. By the look of her hair and what seem to be glasses I know it's her. She turns her head both ways before entering the building.
"Thank god she's here!" I say, too relieved for words. I rush out of my seat, aching to hug my best friend. Pat tries to ask me something, but I'm already in the hall waiting for Phoebe so I can't hear her. But as I stand there I start to panic that I had been mistaken. What if that was not Phebs? What if it was some other girl who just looked like Phebs? Had I been wrong? Oh god, what if she's not coming? What if some truck crushed her car on the way over? What if…she didn't want to come? After what I did to her, I almost would not blame Phebs. All she wanted to do was help me, and I just treated her like trash.
I almost sob in great pain before I hear my best friend.
"You stupid swine, let me through!" I hear Phoebe scream in Japanese. Walking forward some, I can see her yelling at the rehab wing's young and thinly built desk nurse. Pat scurries behind me, passing me on my left.
"She can be let in!" she says, "I know it's after hours, but I'm allowing it." The male nurse frowns, and then puts his hands on his hips.
"Trying to get into Hell-girls good graces I see. Push OVER!" he gaily waves Phoebe through and I cannot help but burst toward her. Sobbing, I crush my best friend with a bear hug. Phoebe hugs back with the same amount of force, a little shocked.
"Oh my, Helga you're shaking!" She tries to break away, but I can't let her, my crying becoming uncontrollable.
"He didn't come! He hates me! He's going to leave me!" I sob, failing to calm myself down. The simple touch of my oldest friend makes me blubber more words, more thoughts, and get in touch with of more feelings then I have in nearly a month. After a long moment passes Phoebe finally frees herself and looks me over, her eyes showing how worried she really is.
"I don't understand," she says, shaking her head, "Why are you so panicked? Did Arnold say something?"
"That's just it Phebs," I blubber again, "He has not talked to me at all! He said when he dumped me here that he'd visit and…and…" I brake into sobs again, almost falling over. Phoebe gently takes my arm and leads me to nearest table.
We sit, my hands tethered to hers. I try to speak but all that comes out are garbled sounds stuffed in tears. Phoebe's face grows more confused then worried as she tries to make sense of the whole scene. But instead of asking questions, she just holds my hand while I continue the waterfall from my eyes.
"It's ok Helga," she tells me, "Just let it out." With that, I cry even harder before settling into quietness. I look around for some tissues to dry my eyes when I notice that Phebs already has a pack of them in her hand. She hands me one, and I take it, breathing deeply while sniffling
"So what happened exactly? Did Arnold really say he'd leave you?" she asks, her eyes a mixture of confusion and concern. I breath deep again, hoping I can explain without loosing it.
"No but…Oh that stupid-stupid woman!"
"Who?"
"That stupid fat cat of a councilor!" I curse, realizing something. Pat never said Arnold would leave me, but her words implied it so much that I just assumed. "See…" I start, "This woman…the one that let you in…she…said some things. Awful-awful things." I sniffled some more as I told her about the other night, taking more tissues. I made sure to include every detail so Phoebe could see just how scared the woman made me.
"And when I tried to call Arnold, I couldn't get him so…I just thought that…maybe…he's had enough of me."
"Don't say that. Yes, it's terrible that he hasn't called, or came to visit but maybe he just needs some time."
"Yea, time to find the right divorce lawyer."
"Helga No!" She squeezed my hand, looking at me with deep anxiety. I could tell by her perplexed face that she was about to say something hurtful. Her mouth pursed and her head lowered a little as she prepared to talk. My heart beat faster as I waited, every second killing me.
"Look…I have to say something. If I don't say it now, then I never will." I look the other way, not wanting to see her lips form the harsh words she is bound to say. I can't blame her. After what I did to her…after what I did to Arnold. I wipe away a slow stream of tears that is strolling down my damp cheeks.
"You really scared me Helga. I didn't know what to do. The look in your eyes, the way you seemed to hate everyone around you. I…I could not believe that was you. That was not the Helga G. Shortmen I grew up with. That was not my best friend!" I wept a little as she talked, hating the scene that landed me here. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to recall how I trashed the one and only friendship I had outside my husband…if I still had a husband. My chest hurt, building up with tension as she continued.
"I have to admit I was mad, and scared. I didn't know if I could continue being your friend. I didn't know if I could handle all that stress. What if you did that again? What if it is more then just snow you push me into next time? A lot was going through my head. I almost vowed to never see you again. But then…I looked back on our friendship and realized there was a lot. I mean, I was there through the 'ice cream' years. I was your maid of honor, and I even helped deliver little Phil," her voice got softer, yet somewhat happier in tone.
"I also realized that you were there for me too. Not just as my maid of honor, or at my graduation of med school…but through a lot of big moments in my life. That's when I saw that we had too much history to give all that up. I know now that you would not have hurt me intentionally, not unless you were going through something more hurtful then I could ever imagine." I sniffled, trying not to cry harder then I already was.
"If I know Arnold, and I think I do, he's going through the same thing as I did. He needs time to look at your side of things and realize that you never meant to harm anyone. You never meant to do anything. He loves you Helga, and I know that when he's ready, he'll come. He has to."
I wiped my tears away as I look at my best friend, rendered speechless by her words.
ARNOLD
I walk in feeling tired and ready to do nothing but sleep the night away. Sighing, I loosen up my tie and head for the percolator. I tap my shoes in wait for the old thing to be done. It takes forever.
"What's the plan Tex?" my grandmother says as she walks in. By the way she's holding my son, I can tell she's ready to hand him off to me. I gulp down the bulk of my coffee and walk to take him, son in one hand, and his bottle in the other. His eyes light up as he sees me, almost too happy to feed. But he does, always looking at his father.
"Going to the saloon for a few colds ones to ring in another year?"
"Yea, kinda stupid but Gerald and Phoebe claim they have not seen for me weeks so…what can I do?"
"Well, you have been working late." I scoff, not wanting to talk about THAT
"Look, I WORK because I HAVE TO! Someone's got to make money around here since…" I close my eyes, feeling agitated. I don't want to fight again, but grandma won't listen. Growling harshly, I try my best not to burst into fits of yelling. I clamp my hand around my son's bottle, not realizing that the same pressure is being applied to his body. He pushes the plastic nipple out of his hands and explodes into scared cries.
"Oh crap, now look what you made me do!" I take the bottle away and try to smooth out the boy's trembling body. Within moments little Phil is calm again, looking at his dad.
"What I did? Thems fighting word's Tex." I roll my eyes and leave the room, wanting to get away from to perpetual rodeo I seem to be living in. I walk up the stairs and try to get into my room before I realize that I can't with my hands full. I think of the many ways I could hold both my son and bottle in one hand when Grandpa walks by. He lets down the latter before I can ask.
"I was going to get that!" I bark.
"Oh, sorry there Shortman. Just thought you could use a little help."
"Well, I didn't!" I bark again,
"Ok, Ok…" Grandpa says as he backs way. He puts his hands up in some sort of defense, not sure what I'll do next. I involuntarily growl again in short scoffs as I ascend the latter.
"Sure you don't need help there? I could grab kiddo from ya?"
"I've got it! Now leave me alone!" I say, gingerly placing my son on floor of my room. I enter shortly after and quickly pick up Phil and place him in his crib. Looking at my watch I see that it's almost eight. My stomach rumbles in hunger, but I don't want to go back down. I'm not in the mood for more of Grandma's cowboy references. Besides, I don't have to pick up Gar and Phebs until nine, so I have plenty of time to eat if I want.
br "You have three messages," my answering machine robotically calls out when press the orange button. I hear the click of the tape starting as I sit in front of the computer to check e-mail. br
"Hey Man, me and Phoebe can't wait to see you at nine. Gonna be blast. I think a lot of people will be there. Maybe this year we can see Harold actually get through two beers without puking. Who knew the human pig couldn't drink? Ha!" I press delete.
"H-Hey Ar-Arnold. The-The…P-Petersons want to s-see you at eleven. Y-you left be-be-before I c-could te-tell you!" I press delete and make a metal note to check with her later. The machine clicks to the last message as I see an empty gmail, save for a few Psychology Today newsletters. I glance through them to see if anything catches my interest when I hear a familiar voice.
"Arnold? Are you there?" She cries softly, her voice shaking, "I've been calling all day and you're never home. Why won't you talk to me? You said you'd-" Heart racing and blood boiling, I rip the answering machine from its outlet and smash it against the wall when I realize who it is. I take the parts that fly at me and stomp on them, not caring that my angry ruckus is making my son cry. I scream at the tiny pieces that land on the floor, ingraining them into the carpet with my foot.
I want her gone; I want her out of my mind, I want to go one fucking second without being reminded of her. But most of all, I want to stop loving Helga. For every time I am reminded of her, I can't help but feel sad. I can't help but wonder what would make such a brilliantly beautiful woman drink.
"How can she do this?" I sob at the floor, "How can do this to our family?" My breath rushes to catch itself as I slide down the wall. Little Phil is still wailing, but I'm too rapt up in my own sadness to care. So here I sit, arms resting on bent knees and crying.
"What in the blue blazes is going on in here!" My grandfather says, rushing in. He quickly takes stock of the scene, eyes going wide when sees my scared son and the shattered plastic all over the floor.
"Arnold are you ok?" He asks horridly. He bends down to help lift me up.
"I'm fine!" I say, shaking his hand free with my wrist as I stand. "I've gotta go. They're waiting for me."
"But Arnold look at this!"
"I'll be home after 12. I will see you then!" I bark, tarring off my tie. I let it fall on the mess as I walk out, the door slamming behind me. I don't care. I just stampede down the stairs and clamor through the rest if the house before slamming my way out to the car.
"Fucking people," I grunt, fishing for my keys. I get them out, hearing them clank and clatter against themselves. The sound brings to mind the clash of cop cuffs, though I don't know why.
Rain beats down on the windshield as I drive. I watch as the old wipers clean away the splatters of water that bomb my car. I sigh, wishing in that one solid moment that I had something similar for my heart. A machine designed to swipe your ticker clean of any emotion you didn't want winding it. My teeth grind some as I drive on, trying my best to fight the rain.
"Oh man!" Gerald says as he opens the door in his classic number 33 shirt. His breath stinks of booze. "You look like a drowned lap rat! HA!" He wobbly opens the door and I can see a few empty cans on the coffee table in their living room. The lights blare around me, giving me a slight headache.
"Sorry," Phoebe grins, "We were pre-gaming a little and I guess Gerald took to the sport more then expected. Come on in, dry off." I take off my wet coat just when I notice how hot it's making me, shaking my hair dry as I do.
"I am so glad you took the night off to come. It's been ages since we've seen you!" Phebs says, handing me a Blue Moon. I sip slowly, letting the smooth beer rush down my throat. It cools everything inside me, and I can almost feel a chill coming on.
"So why did you come all dolled up man!" Ger says, wobbling my way. I take another sip.
"Please tell me you didn't come form work. I mean, I'm glad we finally got you away from that desk, but you have got spend some time at home once in a while!" Groaning, I plop on their comfy couch and down the beer, letting the slight fog of the night wash over me. br
"Ok!" I shout, slamming the empty bottle on table, "Who's ready to go? I know I am!"
"Yea!" Gerald screams, "Party all the time! Party all the time!" He dances his way out of their living room and out the door, too drunk to bother with his coat. Phoebe rolls her eyes happily and grabs both hers and his on the way out. I follow suit, dying to get this night over with.
"Hey, are you ok?" Phoebe asks, pausing me by the arm. She pulls me back into their place some before I can get outside in the cold rain. "You don't look so good," she adds, her smile fading as she eyes me over. I hate the way her almond slits inspect me, no doubt thinking how sad I must look.
"Can we just go already!" I say as I forcefully pull my arm from her concerned grip.
"But Arnold…"
"What?" I shrug my shoulders angrily, too eager to have this stupid ritual done with. I was not the one who begged to go out. I was not the one called several times a week to make sure I'd come. I was also not the one who kept parading me with questions on how a certain someone is doing in a certain place I'd rather not think about. If it were up to me, I'd be home right now. I'd be in bed, sleeping this all off.
Suddenly, I see Helga. She is under the covers. I am standing over her tired body, her tossed hair peaking out of the top of our blanket. My heart twinges at the sight of her, the way she hides herself under the soft comforter, the way she chooses to ignore what's going on around her, and the way her eyes look so vacant and empty when I violently shake the sheets off her. I scream at her to get up, but she refuses. If only I had known this would be the least of our problems. Maybe then I could have left her before it was too late.
"Arnold?" Phoebe's voice snaps me out of my thought. I look at her.
"Lets go." I say, walking to my car.
"And the Rat returns!" Gerald laughs when my hair gets wet again. "So how's Brain? Is he really that smart?" I growl under my breath and get in the car, trying not to get mad at my best friends jokes. He's just having fun, like I'm supposed to be.
I grind my teeth as I drive, fighting the water that's combating my car. Phoebe and Gerald are in back, laughing. Though by the look of it, Ger is much more light hearted then his wife who's staring at me. Her eyes watch me like a hawk and I almost turn to scream at her. But I don't. Instead, I pin my eyes to the road, focusing on the bar just up ahead. br
"Party!" Gerald screams again, before dropping more insipid references to lab mice. My body builds with rage as he does, my knuckles going white. Phoebe snuggles close to her hubby, smiling. br
"Hun, maybe you should cool it with the mice stuff ok?" she says, trying to sound pleasing. Gerald laughs. br
"Oh, come on, I'm just playing! It's New Years!"
"I know," she grins, "But maybe it's not a good idea, right now," She lifts her brow in my direction and makes a face that references something between them. I don't know what it is, but by her worried glance I assume it's about me.
"Hay, at least I'm not talking about that movie he now hates."
"GERALD!" Phoebe scolds, glaring at him. I turn off the engine as we reach the bar and sigh deeply, trying so hard not screech at the pair behind me. br
"Why does he hate that movie anyway? I mean, I don't get-"
"GERALD! STOP!"
"Wait…now I remember…that song! The French one! I complete forgot about it! Don't they play it like, all the time in that thing? My god, and what does it mean anyway?" My blood boils with each word, but I don't want that to control me. So I get out and wait in the monsoon, hoping the constant crash of water will cool me off.
"And why-and why do those guys use that song anyway? I mean, it's so soft. How can anyone wake up to that!" Gerald says, getting out of the car. I can see Phoebe trying to shush her husband, but it's not working. He continues to slur on about his confusion, coming up with many reasons why Inception can't possibly make any sense.
br "And I gotta know Arnold," he says, "I just gotta know, what is it with that song and you?" I don't answer him. I walk, not talking. We get inside and the place is swimming with people. Music from the huge speakers near the front window shakes my ears and I am more then thankful to hear something other then my best friend, or that song that won't stop playing in my head. Lights flash around us, making everyone glow a different color. Getting to the bar I say,
"Give me the strongest thing you've got!" The muscles toned bartender hears me despite the crowds and noise and quickly goes to work. His hands move fast, throwing in shots of every bottle they have in the place.
"That would be this, an Inception." He grins as he serves it to me.
"A what?" I ask, angrily confused. I jump back from the drink, not wanting to take in anything associated with that stupid movie.
"After one of these babies you'll have no idea if you're dreaming or awake!" He laughs at me, rightly sensing that something big is about to happen if I sip it. Breath short and heart drumming, I want to topple the drink over so he'll have to make me something else. And yet, staring at the light blue concoction before me, I get the sense that the only way to overcome what I'm feeling is to just drink it.
I take the glass and down it, using my nose to breathe before reason makes me stop. It tastes like burning salt water mixed with something topical, causing me to finish it fast.
"Sweet dreams buddy!" The body builder bartender says when I slam the glass on the bar. I turn my head and look for Phoebe and Gerald, not realizing that they where next to me the whole time. Ger grins at me, putting his thumb up for our special shake. I try to match my hand with his, but find it hard. My mind fogs up and soon the glowing lights blend in with the surroundings and I can't tell them apart. A murky haze sets in, and suddenly the whole bar looks like it's under water. Over in the right hand corner I can see something…
"Yo man…look at Pinky over here!" I grab the bar to steady my shaky body as I try to make out the odd shapes through the cloudy water around me. Squinting, it looks like a mermaid with light green fins and Helga's head. Her sparkling blonde hair floats around her, framing her sweet red-lipped face.
"GO AWAY!" I shout, "I don't want to talk to you!" Phoebe looks confused but is too afraid to ask what I mean. I keep looking at Helga's angelic visage when I see piano keys fly around her. Then, just as suddenly, electric blue crinkled lines bounce and waft around my mermaid mistress. They move in beat with the music, the bigger noises creating sharp bends and crimps in them.
"Why do you keep haunting me!" I cry, "WHY!" Gerald takes my arm, giggling.
"Ay man, calm down."
"She won't leave me alone!"
"Who!"
"Who do you think!" I say, before diving into the school of people. I don't realize it, but I am punching and shoving my way to speakers, knocking people down as I go.
"Ok fine, if you want to talk, I'LL TALK!" I scream, moving to the tallest speaker. The music is almost too loud to bear, but I don't care. I just dig my hands into the mesh of thumbing box in front me, following the scattering electric blue lines that now creep upward. Helga looks at me, smiling, taunting me with her perfect breasts and alluring mermaid tail. I stretch my hands to grab her, but she keeps swimming out of my reach.
"HAY! GET BACK HERE!" I am on top of the speakers now, jumping up in attempt to get what's impossible. My body becomes wobbly when I land, my foot losing ground. Bubbles pop around me. I fall back, the French song bursting through my subconscious as I sink to the lowest level I ever have.
"Well you sure know how to ring in the New Year," Phoebe says. I raise my head from the concrete floor I slept on, seeing my friends hands clasped around metal bars. My head is pounding, the light making each throb feel like knife stabs to the face. I close my eyes and try to lift my aching body as my bones cry out in pain from the position I slept in. When I can finally stand firmly without tilting, I take stock of the room. A bench runs along the cinder block colored walls. Besides that, there is not much else. I turn and see the bars and Phoebe. She looks sad.
"So, should I ask how I got in here, or do I even want to know?" I say, lowering my head.
"It was not pretty. You started screaming, and then…for some reason I can't figure, you punched your way through the crowed, got top of the speakers, and starting yelling out Helga's name. This was, of course, before you fell flat on your back like a pancake. I tried to get you up, but you were so far gone by that point that not only were you heavy as hell, you started mumbling something about piano keys and mermaids. It took three bouncers, and the bartender to get you up. They called the cops, and here you are."
"So…was I…arrested?" I ask, fearing the answer. br
"Not exactly. I was scared you'd get charged with something, but the cop who came seemed to remember you."
"Me?" br
"I thought it had to be through a patient, but this guy says he wrote you a ticket not too long ago."
"Oh…" I sigh, remembering the donut-ridden stench of the pig that would not shut up about his cell phone.
"Anyway, he seemed to think a night in the drunk take would be better then jail. He also said that when you're ready you could check out with him and go. I have your car, so I can take you home and have Gerald get me later. I took him home before following the cop here."
"Ok." I gulped.
"I'll get him," she smiles faintly before walking off to summon my doom, her face still holding a touch of concern. I didn't want to see that guy again, but I had no other choice. My actions were my actions and I have to acknowledge them. Sighing, I start to piece together the events and soon the whole nights streams in my mind like a movie.
I can see myself drinking, yelling, and climbing like an idiot on top of the speakers. My hands reach out to get something that's not there. My body shutters and flashes with pain when I recall the fall. The rest is just a blur.
"So we meet again, Mr. Shortman," The cop says as he walks to my cell. Phoebe is standing behind him, still looking off. "Boy," he continues sternly, "I told you to relax. Not go crazy!" As he takes his keys out the smell of fresh baked goods and coffee waft my way, my stomach rumbling. He puts the right one the whole, and then stops.
"Now, I want you to understand something. I'm letting you out. But before I do, I want you to promise me that we won't ever meet again. Do you understand me son?" He looks at me hard, his Frankenstein brow forming a stiff line on his face.
"Yes Officer, I do. You have no idea how much I do." I almost cry when the words croak out my throat. He turns the keys and the bars slowly clank to the left of me. I walk out, aching to get a good meal and some sleep. After signing a small form, Phoebe and I walk out to my car that is luckily close by. I get in shotgun, while she gets in the drivers seat. She turns on the ageing thing and tries for the heat.
"Don't bother, the things been broken for years," I say. Phebs takes my advice and turns it off, and the car.
"Listen," she says, turning to me, "I have to know what's going on with you. I cannot, NO, I will not stand to have both my best friends end up like this. I will not allow it! So talk." Her eyes dip down, forming a harsh look.
"I have no excuse for what I did. I should know better. I do know better. But last night…." I sigh, closing my eyes from the cruel sun that's peeking in. I let down the visor so my head won't hurt. "So much was hitting me at once: Gerald's teasing, the mention of the song…and Helga. When I got home last night I got this message from her. She sounded so…childish. Like a five-year-old who wants to be free from their 'time-out.' I guess I could not take it from her. Her mother can be like that all she wants. But not Helga. Not MY Helga. She should be able to see that drinking is not the answer. God, hasn't her mother taught her that?" I feel myself getting enraged again, but I breathe deep and calm down slowly, letting time pass so I can be cool. br
"I can't take this anymore. I want my wife back!"
"Then go get her."
"I can't!"
"Why? What's stopping you?"
"Everything!"
"Really? Everything?" Phoebe crosses her arms under her bust and gives me her famous death stare. It amazes me to see how this sweet friend of mine can muster up this much anger at a moments notice. For a quick second I wonder what Gerald does when he's on the receiving end of this.
"Look I just…I can't! I won't…I…" I try to come up with the right words to describe how I feel, but Phoebe's laser-like focus makes it hard. That, and the fact that my stomach is about to summersault out everything I ate since birth. Phoebe looks at me, her glare smoothing away. She lowers her head again and cups her hands over mine as she prepares to say something truly deep.
"Arnold, I know that writing her off seems best right now. Believe me, I was just as ready as you to do it. But when I saw her yest-"
"YOU SAW HER!" I screech. "You actually went to that woman and SPOKE to her!" I don't why that fact made me mad, but it did, blood practically evaporating from my veins. "I cannot believe this!" I take my hands away and prepare to leap from my car, stomach begging to evacuate. But before I can move I feel my friend's tight grip on my wrists.
"YOU are not leaving until I say what I want to say!" her hands clamp off all circulation, her eyes shooting fire daggers.
"I really thought you where better then this Arnold. I really did. Yes, Helga messed up, Yes, she hurt me, and YES, I did see her. And do you know why? Do you know why I would drive in the pouring rain on New Years Eve to see my best friend?" She bends her head down on me, my body ready to liquefy into a puddle of nothing.
"Because I know she's sorry. Because I know!" she starts to sob violently while my stomach bubbles up with vomit "That she would not hurt me unless she was in major pain." Phoebe takes a moment to weep a little, fingers digging into me.
"She thinks you don't love her! She thinks your going to leave her! You have to go see Helga, Arnold. You have to see my best friend and YOUR WIFE!" She quickly lets go of my hands and I turn my head away from her fast, puking fiercely out the window. The mess lands on the hard blacktop, splattering everywhere.
"Ok," I say softly between purges. "I'll go." And then I cling on to the car door for dear life as my body rids itself of last year.