Chapter 2

It was snowing

Snowing as I passed through Connecticut. . .

I should go
Hey, it’s beginning to snow

So different from spring.  I wanted to bang my head against the wheel and let the car spin out of control.  Spin off the bridge I was crossing and intothe water below . . .

I could see it now.  “Man commits suicide by driving his car off a bridge.  Full coverage at eleven.”

At least then an idea of mine would see decent air-time.

My camera, the same 16 mm camera, lay across the backseat.  I had no idea why I brought it.  In my tiny apartment in South Boston, it occupied a box.

I hadn’t shot anything in 2 and a half years, shortly after I left New York.  Shortly after I left the loft, the door slamming behind me, and my feet carrying me and the fifty dollars I had to my name to a bus station.  I chose Boston.  I never knew why.  Maybe because it was close to Providence.  I went to Brown at my father’s insistence.  He wanted me to become the traditional Jewish doctor like him. I tolerated it for 4 years, until graduation when he and I got into a fight over what I should do with my life and I launched my biology textbook - with med-school acceptance letter inside - into his brand-new in ground pool.  My twenty-nine year old stepmother (product of the mid-life crisis) looked on in disbelief.  Needless to say, our practically non-existent relationship became completely non-existent after that.

I remember my one hesitation.  Before heading to Port Authority I looked back up at the window.  I saw the light go off.  For a split second, I thought maybe I was being unfair.

I still walked away.

That spring was beautiful.  Once the rain cleared, thing got easier.  With Benny off our backs, tensions seemed to ease. Roger no longer need reminders to take his AZT and I was at a creative peak.  I filmed, tried to edit my first film perfectly, and scribbled away at an original screenplay, something I hadn’t done in a while.  The last products of such a project ended up in the fire – literally – with Roger’s posters to heat a freezing apartment.  

I was drawing storyboards (pathetic ones at that – I can’t draw for shit) when Mimi flew in the door.  Roger followed close behind her.  I couldn’t even tell if she was upset, she moved so fast.  I heard the bathroom door shut and braced myself for another fight.  Instead I looked up to see Roger tentatively knocking on the door.  Something was wrong with that picture. If Mimi was upset, it was usually because they werefighting.  And when that happened, she’d run into the bathroom and lock the door, and he’d pound on it, yelling.  She’d yell back.  The cycle would continue until they both tired of screaming ateach other.

This was different.

“Well?”I heard Roger ask.

“It takes two minutes, Roger, not two seconds,” Mimi answered through the door.

“Okay.” Roger moved from the door and began pacing. Pacing.  Shit, Roger doesn’t just pace.

“What’s up?”

His head picked and he noticed me for the first time.  “Mark.”  He paused.  “How long have you been here?”

“Since you came in.”  I was answered by silence as Roger threw another glance toward the bathroom door.  Something was up.  I searched for something else to say to him when the bathroom door opened.  Both of us turned to face Mimi.

“Positive,”she said, and just as Roger had, noticed me sitting on the couch.   She smiled tentatively.  “Hi, Mark.”

“Positive?” Roger repeated.  She nodded.

Positive.  What the hell were they talking about?  I watched Roger’s face turn into a smile as he pulled Mimi close to him and kissed her.

Then it hit me.

Mimi was pregnant.

Chapter 3 coming soon . . .