The Enigma’s Anomaly

I wake up some time in the late afternoon, before Gerard has even begun to stir but he’s looking completely wiped out as he’s face down against his pillow. I don’t disturb him, and meander down stairs, but we have no food so I sit in the kitchen looking at an empty cabinet for a few minutes. When it sinks in that I can’t make any food with only salt, pepper and a bottle of hand soap, I walk over to the living room, but the TV is broken.

Isn’t that just great? We have no access to television and we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere so there’s probably no one to even call to come fix it. I don’t have a technical brain though so it’s not unlikely that it can be fixed with a few tweaks, but knowing me, I’d probably make it explode if I tried.

I walk around the room looking for something to do, but there’s nothing anywhere, as to be expected. Almost like if you stay at a hotel there does happen to be a bible in one of the drawers, not hollowed out which eases my conscious, but I’m not in the mood to read about the abomination that is shrimp, so I leave it in the drawer and question what to do while the I let the Way’s sleep in.

Before I do anything else I take a dosage of painkillers even though I’m not feeling anything right now. The bottle says to take them in the morning, so I will do what the bottle says. Besides, I can already tell that my arm is starting to cramp again.

I decide to bring in some of the bags that we left in the car so I drag in a few pieces of luggage before the car has been emptied. I don't know what is inside of each, or where they’re meant to go so I decide to just leave them in the entryway. I don’t want to go snooping around their things even after I’ve done it extensively already. Now I have nothing to do though. I just have to sit and wait for someone to wake up and talk to me.

I brought a severe lack of anything with me, and all the stuff I did bring fits into my one piece of luggage. I just didn’t have much I couldn’t live without, and it was a lot harder to pack when I had to tell Gerard what to get from my apartment. It’s not like I could waltz into my building while I was in the hospital, and it just seemed easier for Gerard to get my stuff. It wasn’t all that embarrassing for me, because I don’t really have anything embarrassing to hide in my apartment. I’m going to have to decide whether to pay my rent so that I can keep my stuff, or if I should just let whatever I haven’t collected be taken away. I’m not really attached to anything in there so it’s not that big of a deal if I have to leave it. I might send it to storage or something, but I don’t know when or if I’ll be able to do that without being present at the time. That’s a problem for another day.

I hear someone walking down the stairs not long after I finish bringing things in and see Mikey, looking bleary-eyed and tired, enter the kitchen.

“Hello Frank,” he says, and proceeds to look at the empty cupboard the same way I had a while ago.

“I’d say good morning, but it’s the middle of the afternoon,” I say.

“We have no food,” he states. I know he’s just stating the obvious but I understand the sadness in his voice.

“We should wait for Gerard though,” I say.

“You’re right,” Mikey says and closes the cabinet, “but I’m hungry.”

“I don’t even know where the nearest town from here is,” I say.

“Where’s my computer? I can check,” Mikey asks himself and then proceeds to walk by me and I see him stop in the entry hall looking at the various bags lying there precariously.

“Do you think you’re going to find a Wi-Fi signal out here?”

“It’s possible,” Mikey shrugs.

While he’s looking through a bag, his head snaps up and his eyes fall on mine like he just realized something really important, “We don’t have coffee. Gerard’s going to freak out if he wakes up and there’s no coffee.”

“Yeah but then we’d have to either get the shit instant kind you put in the microwave, or buy a coffee maker as well.”

“No we don’t,” Mikey says and he stands up to go look through a different suitcase, “you think Gerard would go anywhere for an extended period of time without bringing a coffeemaker?”

He holds up the small device that’s been sitting in Gerard’s kitchen for as long as I’ve known him, and I feel a little stupid that I didn’t realize he’d bring it.

“You go get coffee, I don’t care,” I tell him, and walk back into the living room.

Mikey groans, “Fine, I’ll get some food then as well. I’ll be back sometime soonish, maybe.”

“Don’t get lost!” I yell at him.

“Fuck off Iero!” he says and then a balled up roll of socks hits the back of my head. I try to throw it back, but he’s gone by the time I do so it’s too late.

I just sigh, and grab my suitcase, then lug it upstairs. I don’t want to wake Gerard, but he’s already stirring by the time that I get into the room so I know he’s probably going to wake up pretty soon anyway.

“Frank?” Gerard says not opening his eyes. He probably heard me bustling around so I walk over to him splayed carelessly on the bed.

“What it is it?” I ask him.

“Do I have to wake up?” he asks and he pulls the fringe of red hair out of his eyes, before blinking them open groggily.

“Not if you don’t want to,” I tell him.

“M’kay,” he says, before rolling over. I think he’s cute so I just leave him be for a few minutes, before looking back at the suitcase. I don’t really want to do any unloading again, because my arms starting to flame up after moving things into the house. It probably wasn’t a smart idea, but I was trying to be helpful.

I think for a minute before deciding to just get back into bed with Gerard. I crawl in behind him and put my head on his shoulder. He’s not asleep because I see him smile as soon as I wrap my arm around him.

“You’re not asleep you little liar,” I whisper, making him giggle.

“Where’s Mikey?” he asks blankly.

“Went to go get some coffee and shit,” I tell him.

“So we have the house to ourselves?” he asks.

“What are you proposing, Gerard?” I ask, with a mixture of emotions. On one hand I would love to do something, but on the other I think it’d hurt. My arms are weak with very little strength so I’m not really sure if I’m in any condition for things.

“Do you wanna maybe take a shower?” he asks, and I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad idea. He’s not too smelly, but he will be if he doesn’t rectify it soon. What he’s suggesting isn’t really about cleaning up though and we both know that.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Gerard,” I tell him.

He makes a moping sound and then turn over to face me, “Why not?”

“I’m still really sore at the moment. Maybe in a few days, if that’s alright?”

He looks down but I don’t know what to make of his expression.

“Okay, but I’m going to shower then,” he says and he crawls out of bed quickly.

“You’re not, like, mad at me, are you?” I ask.

“What? Oh god no!” He says quickly looking scared, “no, definitely not, sorry. Just really need a shower that’s all.”

I nod, feeling better, but I do wish I were feeling physically better as well. I feel like the definition of shit, and it’s starting to get annoying with how many things this bullet has taken away from my life.

It’ll be better soon. At least that’s what I have to tell myself.