The Brink of Destruction

While Billie went to the grocery store to pick up some things to take to Bat's, I stopped in at the Cancer Center to spend some time with the kids. I didn't have my guitar, but we were still able to sing some songs, which they really enjoyed. Then I told them a couple of stories--"The Green Gorilla" seemed to be their favorite, and got shrill screams of delight at the end. The hour flew by, and my favorite part was the dogpile of hugs I got as the children were leaving.

I was getting attached to some of them already--Mandy, whose gorgeous red hair was almost completely gone; Bryan, with a round face, white-blond hair, and eyes blue as robin's eggs, who looked like the sun to me; Petey, a quiet, dark-eyed boy who shyly slipped his hand into mine while we were singing, two fingers of his other hand in his mouth. How precious they all were, and I wished I could see them every day.

Billie pulled up at the entrance just as I was coming out the door, and the old blue Fairlane glided to a stop.

"Can a girl get a ride with a good-looking guy like you?" I asked, sliding over beside him to rest my head on his shoulder.

He glanced behind him to check traffic, and pulled out onto Research Drive. "Oh yeah, I think you could get just about anything you wanted!" he smirked. "What sounds good to you?"

"Hmm...tough question. New shoes are always a favorite, but diamonds are such a spirit lifter--hey!!" I protested as he poked me in the side. "That was unnecessary!"

"I KNOW you're not telling me those material things are any match for my sexy, manly body, are you? Because I can just pull over here--" and damned if he wasn't steering toward the sidewalk.

"Okay, okay! All I want is a kiss from the most wonderful man in the world!" I laughed, bumping his arm with my fist. As we slowed for the red light, he turned to me and pulled me toward him, kissing me so deeply I couldn't breathe.

Still, even after all that had passed between us, still he could make me limp with just a kiss. The way his full lips parted to reveal his too-cute, slightly crooked grin, and his eyes that made me feel like I was falling into eternity, everything about him sent electricity through me, making my heart beat faster.

"Wow, that was...incredible!" I mumbled, still a little stunned. He was looking ahead now, nudging the accelerator just as the light turned green, a contented smile on his face.

"All the way through the store, I was waiting for that. God, I missed you." He glanced over at me, and took my hand, squeezing it gently. "It scares me how much I care about you, Gen."

Without a word, I kissed the side of his neck--not a passionate kiss, just full of the love I felt for him. I settled against him as we passed the medical center and eased onto the highway.

"How was the Center?" he asked. "I'm so proud of you for doing that."

"It was great. I mean, it's kind of hard, when I think about all they have to put up with, but the amazing thing is that they're still kids, even after all the suffering. They still love the same things, and still want to have fun, just like any other children. I just love them."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Maybe I could go with you sometime, maybe take my guitar and, I don't know..." He trailed off as if he felt awkward offering to help.

"I think they'd love that, Billie. You're amazing on the guitar, and you'd be surprised how much fun you can have. Just--"

He looked at me, his eyebrows raised. "Just what?"

"Just don't say 'fuck' around them, okay? I'd hate to hear from their parents." I covered the smile on my face, trying to sound serious.

He feigned indignity. "Well, I'm glad to know you think so fucking little of me that you think I'd cuss in front of a bunch of fucking kids! I--"

We both dissolved in waves of laughter. Then I rubbed his arm gently. "Seriously, I think you'd be great. I'd love to have you with me next time. Thanks."

Soon we were pulling into the gravel driveway of a neat little white house with navy blue shutters. Hydrangeas bloomed lavender and pink along the front, and there was an old blue Cadillac parked under the carport.

"Here we are!" Billie said. "I'll get the groceries out of the trunk--you go on inside and say hi to him. He's a little hard of hearing, so if he doesn't answer the doorbell, just open the door and yell for him."

"Can I help you carry anything?" I asked.

"Nope, I've got it. It's just a couple of bags of soup and bread and stuff. You go ahead." He kissed my forehead again, and opened his door.

I rang the doorbell twice, and knocked as hard as I could, but there was no answer. I could hear the television inside, so I knew he was home. Hesitantly, I turned the knob, and found it wasn't locked. I eased the door open a few inches and stuck my head through.

"Hi, Bat! It's Gen and Billie! We just stopped by to see how you're doing. Is it okay if we come in?"

No one was in the living room, but the television was playing "Casablanca" on AMC. I waited to see if he would come shuffling through the door, but he must not have heard me. I walked across the room, to the hallway that led to the back of the house.

"Bat, are you home?" I called. The kitchen was empty, too--and I wasn't surprised to see that it was spotless. "Bat?"

My sneakers were almost noiseless padding down the carpeted hallway. I felt like an intruder looking into first one room and then another. The bathroom was empty, and what looked to be a spare bedroom was, too.

I stopped at the last room, which was his, and found him napping on the bed, stretched out in his stocking feet with a book open across his chest. Unsure whether to wake him, I decided it would be better than having him scared to death to find us in his house. I heard the front door open again as Billie came in with the groceries, and the rustle of plastic as he set them down on the kitchen counter.

"Bat?" I whispered softly, tiptoeing over to his bedside. His hearing aids lay on the nightstand--no wonder he hadn't heard. Gently, so I wouldn't startle him, I laid my hand on his to shake him awake.

Something in my mind swayed dangerously, as if the bottom had dropped out of the world, and for a second it felt as though I was falling. Then I heard myself scream, as if it were someone else, someone far away.

His hand was cold as ice.

There was a crash as a bag of cans hit the kitchen floor, and Billie's feet were flying down the hall. All I could think was that there had to be a mistake, something was wrong about this. But as I looked into the old man's face, the pallor of his lips, and the stillness of his chest left no doubt.

Billie. I wanted so much to protect him from this, but there was no time. He burst into the room, grabbing the post at the foot of the bed.

"What's wrong?" he gasped. "Are you okay?"

"I--I'm fine, but..." My mouth had gone dry as paper, and wouldn't form the words. Mute, I looked helplessly from Billie's face to Bat's and back again, my eyes filling with tears.

He followed my gaze, and stood staring at the old man for a moment. "It's okay, Gen. I told you, he has a hard time hearing."

He leaned closer to the pillow, and said in a loud voice, "Bat! It's Billie! Wake up, we brought you some lunch!"

The tears were spilling, hot and stinging, down my face as I wrapped my arms around him, my heart breaking into a million pieces. But he ignored me, shaking Bat's shoulder, gently at first, then more vigorously.

"Billie," I said, almost choking on the words, "please listen to me, he's--"

"NO!!" he shouted. "He's just sick and needs to rest. I'm going to get him a blanket." He pulled out of my arms and opened the closet, rummaging on the top shelf.

"Billie, please stop for a minute," I begged. His desperation was too painful to see.

"All he needs is a few hours of sleep, you'll see," he said, spreading the yellow blanket over Bat's legs. "He works so hard, and never goes to the doctor like we tell him to." He was frantic, pleading with someone he couldn't see.

He started to tuck the blanket in around Bat's hips, when the wrinkled hand slid slowly off his chest onto the bed.

Billie stopped, frozen, staring at his friend's face in disbelief.

"Bat?" he said, and he sounded so young, like a boy of ten or eleven. "Dad?"

The sobs were tearing my throat now, piercing my soul.

Billie sank to his knees, his eyes huge and shocked as he took the old man's hand in his.
"NO! I won't let you go! I promised to take care of you!" His voice was breaking, quivering with grief. "Please, God, you can't take him away from me again!"

His thin frame seemed to collapse, folding slowly to the floor, and all I could do was hold his trembling body and rock him as he cried.