Friday, November 7th 3:45 PM
I have this little game I’ve been playing ever since I first moved into the city. It’s really stupid but here goes; basically what I do is find someone while I’m riding the subway and then stare at them, really concentrate and see if I can read their minds. Or alternately if they can read my mind. It usually never works but it keeps me distracted from the fact that I am on a depressing subway.
I hate to admit it but, subways aren’t really the magical things they are on television or in the movies. I mean sure you’re moving underground, that is pretty neat but the subways never breakdown, get taken over by terrorist and you never catch the love of your life’s eye on your way out as the doors slide closed.
Trust me. I’ve tried it.
Still, we take them because they move faster than what’s going on up above.
I had my eyes on the guy in front of me, he had a pair of ear buds in. He looked like he was probably a Wall Street guy or hey maybe even an actor on Broadway going to a press conference. I really don’t know. He looked up from the subway floor and caught my eye but I heard nothing.
One of these days.
Next stop 68th Street,”
“Hey, we are here.” I said to Nick ,who had grown suspiciously quiet the closer we got to our destination.
Well, not suspiciously.
“It’s going to be fine you know,” I said putting my arm around his shoulder as we headed out of the subway car.
He nodded his head but didn’t say anything.
We walked out of the station and through the crowded streets. I kept my arm around Nick the whole time as we walked. We aren’t the most coordinated people in the world so our matching Yankee caps would sometimes knock together. It wasn’t long until we past the crowd and rounded the corner until we were in front of the clear, massive doors of the New Hope Cancer Center. I opened the door for Nicholas and then took a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting area. Nicholas sat next to me.
“Shouldn’t you be checking in ?” I laughed
Nick took the baseball cap of his head and buried his face in it, “I can’t do this.”
“I know you’re freaked out—“
“I’m beyond freaked out now,” he said running his hand over the skin on his head,”I ‘m scared and I don’t want to do this,”
“Nic-“
“Darcy,”
“Come on. They said it won’t hurt, what are you afraid of ? You had brain surgery a few months ago.”
“I know,” he replied,” But, they knocked me out and I don’t remember anything.”
Despite what my cousin might tell you, I’m not much of a pusher. Or at least I don’t try to be. I just don’t understand why some people would rather die or suffer than have a little discomfort in their lives. I smiled at Nick and then I went up to the front desk myself.
“Hi,” I greeted the receptionist
“Hi,” she smiled
“I’m Darcy and my friend, Nicholas is here for an appointment but um, he is a little nervous so, is it cool if I check him in?” I said pointing to show the receptionist who he was. The receptionist gave a knowing nod and after giving her his information I took a seat and went back to my other hobb; seeing if I could find the oldest magazine in the basket.
“I’m glad you’re here Darcy,” Nick said “Because honestly, if not I would be at home still.”
“I know,” I smiled.
* * *
Friday, November 7th 5:01 PM
I was trying to keep it cool and be totally normal but it was getting hard.
“And it doesn’t hurt ?” I asked.
“No,” Nick replied through his closed eyes.
“Well, this kind of does,” I laughed putting my hand over his hand, which was currently squeezing the life out of my own hand.
Most people would have said sorry and loosened up but, Nicholas just laughed and squeezed a little harder.
I watched as the nurse, Danielle took another pin and attached the last side of the head frame to Nicholas’s skull.
“That looks like it should hurt,” I told him
“The anesthetic hurt more,” he smiled seeming a lot more relaxed than before, “Hey, Darcy take my picture.”
“Are you sure ?” I laughed
“ My nieces would think this was so cool. And if I live through this I want to be able to prove to people that it happened.”
“You mean when you live through this,” I corrected taking the camera out of his book bag.
I went to the corner of the room and looked through the viewfinder to get a shot.
“You’re in the picture Danielle, you have to smile or something,” I said, Danielle looked hesitant at first but then leaned a bit towards Nick for the picture. “Okay, everybody say How are you, Clarice.’”
“Very funny, Darcy,” Nick teased as the flash snapped.
I made a note to change this image to Nick’s profile picture.
“Okay,” Danielle said taking her gloves off, “Right now, the team of doctors are looking at your MRI’s and scans to figure out where the radiation will be delivered. This headframe will help them point the lasers to the correct places. It may take them an hour or so to figure things out before we move you to the radiation room so, you boys relax and if you need anything just let us know.”
“Thanks,” Nick said
“Bye ,Danielle,” I added as she headed for the door leaving us alone in the room.
The room was fairly nice, from a design principle;modern furniture and inviting color schemes. They wanted you to forget what was really going on. Way nicer than my hospital room but, I was glad Nick had this. I sat in the chair next to Nick’s bed.
“So you can’t feel anything?” I said, admiring the head frame..
“No,” he said taking a small sip from the ginger ale can on his bed side.
I looked around the room, they were clearly designed for multiple people to fit comfortably but it looked a little empty with just me there. Well, there was Wishy too, he was situated next to Nick with Nick’s baseball cap on his head.
“I kinda wish Elias was here for you too,” I said
“Well, I mean I think he has work and it’s cool,”
“I know,” I said “ It’s just when I went into my first time for chemotherapy, you had to practically buy tickets to get in. Between my parents, Lila, Noah and Sadie and you guys . . . . I don’t know I just I feel bad you don’t have more people.”
“I don’t want a bunch of people seeing me like this . . . besides one person is enough when it’s you,” Nick said playing with the straw in the ginger ale, “Besides we know why it’s so hard for Eli to be here.”
We did know.
Not that we acknowledged it.
Nicholas had let me in on his own little game where he tries to figure out which one of us is going to die and in what order. I joined in for the macabre fun only to realize Elias didn’t fit into the game. Unlike my NHL and Nick’s Brain Cancer , MS had no real prognosis. It was then we realized if things turned out for the worse eventually, Elias would be alone. His biggest fear was discomfort but ours was death.
Not that any of that mattered to us. Well, at least not now.
I felt Nick’s cold hand overtop
“Are you still afraid ?” I asked
“No,” said Nick, “ I just think we should pray,”
* * *
Friday Novemeber 7th 7:24 PM
Nicholas was holding on to my arm to me for dear life, he forehead on his knees as the PATH train sped underneath the Lincoln Tunnel.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go home ?” I said as I heard him make what sounded like retching noises.
“No, no-- I’m fine,” he said fairly unconvincingly “ I need time to recover before I see mother, anyway. I made her dinner before we left so, I ‘ll just call when we get there. It’s fine.”
Seeing Nick go through radiation had been pretty hard It was different from my chemotherapy where I just layed in a bed for a few hours with everyone by my bedside. For Nick he had to lie down in a special machine alone while I watched from behind glass in a room feet away. He looked so lost.
I barely remembered the 2 days after I first had chemotherapy because I slept through them all. It was less than an hour after Nick’s procedure I had no idea how Nick was functioning.
Although I will say if there was anything that would have got my ass out of bed it would be either seeing Slate and Elias spending time together or Elias not having MS.
The fact that both of them were happening at the exact same time was pretty special if not apocalyptic. I could hardly believe the phone I got from Slate. I saw Nicholas pick his head up and cover his eyes with his hands
“Are you okay ? “ I repeated for like the 18th time
“Yeah, I just can’t believe I am wearing this outfit,” he said referring to the old sweatshirt and jogging pants “I didn’t think I’d be seeing people.”
“We can turn around—“ I suggested
“No, it’s okay,” he said
The train finally reached the Jersey City station and Nicholas and I made it the two blocks to Elias’s apartment building
“Going to the fortress of solitude, huh ?” I said as I typed in the code for the door and we headed into the elevator.
“What do you mean ?” Nick asked
“Well, I mean in the time we’ve known Eli none of us have gone inside his apartment. Think about it.”
“I bet it’s super nice or something,” Nick responded,” Like he has a bunch of giant plasma tvs.”
“Or like a huge home theater and a home gym ,”
“It’s Elias it’s probably a huge arcade room,”
“I just had a crazy thought,” I said,” Maybe it has a—and this is a little mad but a-- washing machine included inside the apartment,”
“Now, that’s crazy tall,” Nick laughed
I was just happy to see him laughing again.
The elevator arrived on his floor and overall the building appeared pretty average, I walked up to the door number Slate had given me on the phone and knocked.
Elias opened the door for us and we walked into the apartment to see Slate sitting on one couch his arm inches from Emily. Elias took a seat on the couch across from them, Nick greeted Slate and took a seat next to Elias laying his body out on the couch as far as it would go.
Emily immediately got up and put an arm on my shoulder.
“Darcy, I heard I’m so sorry,” She said
“Uh, thanks --oh this is Nick,” I
“Forget introductions.” Nick said from his place on the couch and then poked Elias in his shoulder, ”Slate said you don’t have MS anymore.”
“That’s not it . . . well, not exactly.” Elias said,” I went to the ER-“
Slate cleared his throat.
“Slate took me to the ER and I told the doctor about how I’ve been feeling and she said she doesn’t think I have MS.”
“That’s good ? ,” I tried to clarify.
“Not really, she thinks I have something else . . . Parkinsons Disease,”
“Shit,” I breathed
“Is that better or worse ?” Emily asked
Elias shrugged his shoulders
“She is making me get an appointment to get some tests done.,”
“You have kick-ass insurance,” I reminded him “You should use it this time.”
“Did you ever get tested for MS ?” Emily asked.
“There isn’t like an official test like other diseases. There isn’t one for Parkinsons either so, they have to rule things out.,” Elias said, “I mean I saw a nurse at an urgent care and she said it was the only thing that fit the symptoms. It’s fine, I just thought you guys should know.,”
A strange silence fell over the room.
“Yeah, well know that the puppet show is back on the road, I’m going to head out,” Slate said getting up, “Emily do you want to go to the beach or something ?”
“Excuse me ?” she said
Good lord, more Slate and Emily drama. Hadn’t the world had enough.
“What else is there to do in New Jersey besides catch a Giants game ?”
“I’m going home,” she said turning towards me, “I’ll be in all night so, Darcy and Nick, if you guys need a ride back anywhere . . . I don’t mind.”
I saw her eyes were wandering towards Nick who was knocked out on the couch
“Is he . . . “ Emily started but seemed to lose the words
“Why the fuck does he have a Care Bear ?” Slate whispered
“Slate!,” Emily scolded “ God, you are so rude sometimes—“
“What ? I’m sure he is fine—“
“He is fine,” I interrupted the potential fight, “He didn’t sleep much last night with all the anxiety it’s okay, no reason to start a fight,”
“Okay, well the offer still stands, anytime,” Emily said waving goodbye and heading out the door.
As soon as the door shut, Slate reached for the doorknob
“Slate. Let. Her Go.,” I said
“Relax, I’m going back home to see if I can salvage this crappy Friday night,” he said and walked out slamming the door behind him.
I had finally seen Elias’s apartment, I got to see Emily again and I was with my friends who I considered brothers.
To me it was the most uncrappiest and perfect Friday night.
* * *
Saturday November 8h 9:16 AM
“ I don’t understand. I thought they gave you so much. I mean, you were so sick . . . are you sure ?” My Mom asked me.
“I’m only sure of what they tell me, mom,” I explained to her as she took a seat next to me.
“Mom, we should wait for Slate, right ?”Lila asked innocently.
“Let’s not bother,”I said, “Slate wasn’t at the apartment this morning—“
I saw all the heads in the room reeling.
“He’s at work,” I lied “He is doing some work for some photo shoot thing, they need people to deliver clothes back and forth and stuff.”
If there was one thing people in this family had learned it was that when it came to Slate you could always expect disappointment. And whenever no one knew where he was it caused even more trouble, but I trusted Slate and I wasn’t going to let it bring down my Saturday.
Most families gathered for Sunday dinners or something but, not the Bennets. No matter how farapart we seemed to get or how different our lives got, we tried to always have Saturday Morning Breakfast. It came about because my parents worked so hard when we were kids that this was the only time we were together.
At the head of the table was my dad, Constantino. My dad is from Italy born and raised he came to New York City for a vacation with his friends and met my mom. They were long distant for a while before they got married and my dad moved here. Marrying my mom gave him a green card but he worked for years going to classes and taking low end jobs to get his citizenship. The first thing he did when he got it was take my mothers name. My dad seemed to think giving his kids the last name Mosulini would be unfortunate. I just think it’s funny.
My mother left college to be married and worked every job she could find day or night to pay for things. Her biggest goal in life had been to cook as well as her mother in law and she had pretty much succeeded. Nina Bennett was also the kindest and passionate woman I knew. When she and my dad got their real estate license it was her idea to buy the first property they flipped and open Bennets.
My parents were taking my disease the hardest, they were constantly asking me about it making sure I was okay. They wanted to make it better like they had done all my life but, it wasn’t possible.
Anyway, even after we got the restaurant and things were stable the Saturday thing kind of stuck. We had recently added an extra chair for my older brother’s fiancé, Sadie. I think hearing my parents story of falling in love half way across the world affected us kids. Noah was a few moment short of 30, thinking he’d never meet anyone when he met Sadie while she was moving into her apartment. She was working on a PHD at Colombia and 5 months later they were engaged. It seemed kind of sudden but, they wanted to get married when Valentine’s Day was on a Saturday. At this point they’d been engaged for 2 years and the wedding was months away.
Lila, was my younger sister and probably the smartest Bennett at the table. Lila had never once in her life gotten anything below an A. She knew was going to be a doctor, even before I got sick. Lila had a half scholarship from NYU where she was doing brilliantly.
We also pulled up a chair for Slate on the occasions he came. When Slate was 17 he ran away from home and when they found him a few months later his parents kicked him out/ Slate ran out (it depends who you ask) and he came to live with us until he graduated high school. It was fine but, Slate had been involved with drug stuff that my mom’s kindness could not help. He left and it was on and off for a while until he went to rehab a few months ago. Slate put this family through a lot.
I think the reason Lila, Noah and I turned out so well is because we watched our parents work hard for everything and still make it work. They made me believe in . . . everything.
* * *
Saturday, November 8th 1:18 PM
I was thankful to see Slate on the couch on my laptop when I made it back to the apartment.
“You missed breakfast,” I informed him.
“I’m saving all my ‘family time’ for Thanksgivng,” he said not taking his eyes off the screen.
“Let me guess. Someone throw a sheep at Emily ?,”
“No,” he said not moving his eyes from the screen, “I’m watching porn.”
“What?! you can’t do that on my machine ! They have viruses and—“
“Relax, I’m kidding,” he said “Talking to Em last night made me remember what a bitch she was. She broke things off so I’m done.”
I settled into my routine of writing invoices and doing my non-designing parts of work. I had taken the train back last night early, without Nick in hopes of getting work done but, I hadn’t. I was close to catching up when I heard a knock at the door. Slate and I quickly turned to each other and played the infamous ‘you get up first’ game.
“Darcy ?” I heard Elias’s voice.
I quickly got up and I saw Slate making hand puppets out the corner of my eye.
In case you haven’t realized Slate is an idiot.
I opened it to see Elias dressed in a civil war soldiers uniform.
“Does he know Halloween was last week ?” Slate asked from his spot.
Elias was usually the silent type but the only time I had seen him even come close to coming out of this was when he participated in these role-playing events. He had invited us to see the civil war reenactments one time; it was a little dorky but as long as the North always won it was pretty cool.
It was the closest he would ever be to a soldier.
“Sorry to drop by . . . I really need to talk,” he said, he looked like he had just seen a (union soldier) ghost.
“You’re always welcome,” I asked moving my work off the couch for him,” Hey, Nick took a ride from Emily last night, right ?”
“No, he just slept over my place last night and this morning he said when he got back to Brooklyn he was going to sleep.,” Elias asked
“Okay,” I said,”So, whats up ?”
I noticed this was even interesting Slate who watching us inbetween glances to his phone
Over Emily my ass.
“I went to the specialist and they did spinal taps and stuff and they said I don’t have Parkinsons.”
“Okay, what the hell ?,” Slate—who seemed to even be interesting in Elias’s unplanned arrival-- chimed in, “Do you have Elias disease or something ?”
“Off topic that sounds like a badass disease,” I added
“I mean, I got a diagnosis . . . I have Huntington’s Disease apparently it’s commonly misdiagnosed as Parkinsons.” He explained and then kind of seemed uneasy “ It’s a genetic condition . . . I was born with it,”
The realization slowly painted across my brain. I couldn’t think of a string of words to say.
“Why are you guys being so morbid ?” Slate asked recognizing my silence “How is this any different from having anything else,”
“It’s can be tested before birth” Elias repeated “If a parent has it there is a 50% chance the child will get it,”
“And I thought I had a shit storm against my parents,” Slate laughed, “You must be so pissed at them if they knew. Wait, does your mom or dad have it I mean –“
“Slate,” I cut him off.
This is what he gets for never actually getting to know people.
“I’m adopted,” Elias explained to him,” Morgan and Sean aren’t my biological parents,”
I had no idea what to say, I knew Elias must have been processing this for a while, I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking.
“I feel like I’m going to go through what I went through before and get depressed and I don’t want Sean and Morgan flying out here,” Elias said, “What am I going to do ?”
“Don’t worry, Eli,” I told him, “I’ll be here and I’ll do whatever you want me too.”
