 |
 |
|
| E-mail this page to a friend | Tell me when this page is updated |
| RUNNING ON EMPTY BY TORRI |
CHAPTER 22 |
Todd's Apartment
In it's filthiness, Todd's apartment was worse than a bachelor pad. There was no order, only chaos in its most scattered form. Nothing had a place - space was created by the shoving of objects to the side, "making room." The television and VCR were the only things that seemed to have a home.
It was the opposite of Tea's penthouse. Where her place was neat and anally ordered, his was impossible to navigate without stepping on something or tripping over something else. It even smelled dirty, stale, closed up like an attic. And smoke; throat choking smoke.
Tea couldn't stand it, being in such a mess. And she couldn't stand sitting still, waiting for the doctor, or for the next time she had to wake Todd. So, she began to clean, and scrub and organize, reverting to old habits. It was her way of clearing the clutter in her mind.
She started in the living room, replacing the displaced cushions on the couch, putting the empty cans and bottles in a garbage bag, polishing the lacquer tables. She picked up one of the many ashtrays, looking at the shape and size of the ashes. If they were thick, it would have been from a cigarette, thin, would have told her it was from something other than a cigarette. "Damn it," she said, shaking her head at the thin ashes. She moved the ashes around, spotting several "roaches" smoked to the quick. Whether she liked it or not, it was not her life to lead. She turned the ashtray upside down over the garbage can, watching the ashes float around in the air, before sinking to the bottom. "What are you doing to yourself?"
The kitchen was more of a mess than the living room. Dishes piled in the sink, caked with stuff that had mold growing out of it. Dishwashing was her least favorite chore as a child, and she carried that disdain with her into adulthood. Dishwater made her nails soft and brittle, which she could not stand. Instead of wasting her time trying to scrape the dishes clean, she simply tossed them into the garbage, with the promise of buying a new set.
Had to keep herself occupied, or else she would have driven herself crazy with worry. She had been spending too much time worrying, and when she wasn't worrying, she was depressed about the past, the present and the future, they were all so bleak. And looking at Todd was a bitter reminder of the only time in her life when she imagined a future filled with happiness. It was not meant to be, just as she was not meant to be happy. It wasn't a guess, or a prediction, not even a premonition; it was a fact.
She ran to the door as soon as she heard the first knock. She didn't peak through the hole, or ask who it was, just flung the door open. "Right this way," she said, ushering Dr. Scott into Todd's bedroom. "I really appreciate this."
"Yes, well, you are my best patient."
I bet that ten thousand dollars I'm paying you moved me straight to the top of you "best patient" list.
She opened the bedroom door, stepping to the side to allow Dr. Scott to enter. He had seen many injuries, broken bones, bruises, swollen bodies, not to mention every illness under the sun, but he had never seen anything quite like Todd's injuries. As a physician, he was trained to hide his feelings, to act as "normal" as possible no matter how gruesome the situation, or how bad things looked. "Do not alarm the family," they said in medical school. He couldn't help but to stop dead in his tracks looking at the man in bed, who, by physical appearances, should have been dead long ago. He regained his composure, and began removing objects from his physician's bag.
"Todd, wake up," Tea instructed. When she saw his eyelids flinch, she knew she had gotten through to him. "Dr. Scott is here. He's going to check you out, okay?"
"Mmm," he answered.
"I'm right next to you, okay? I'm going to take your hand and you just squeeze if you feel any pain."
Dr. Scott lined his tools up on the nightstand, in the order he would use them. He took Todd's temperature, listened to his heart, felt along his abdomen for any breaks, pried his mouth open to look inside, all the while taking notes and not saying a word.
Todd groaned each time Dr. Scott's hands made contact with his skin. He didn't squeeze Tea's hand, even though that's what he wanted to do. If he did, he was sure he would have broken it, his own pain so excruciating, he needed some place to displace it.
Tea tried to read the expressions on Dr. Scott's face to get an indication of how severe Todd's injuries were. He was stony; his facial muscles did not twitch or move at all. Nor did he make a sound. Robotically, he used instrument after instrument, filling his notepad with results that would remain a secret known only to him. He would only give Tea the bare minimum of information, making it as "lay men" as possible.
When he finished his examination, and put all of his tools back into his bag as orderly as he took them out, he motioned for Tea to join him in the hallway.
"Todd, I'll be right back."
Tea joined the doctor in the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind her. "Let's go out into the living room," she suggested.
He did not sit down, just towered over her as he explained his findings to her. "He has several broken ribs, which will have to heal on their own. He has several cuts and contusions and they will also have to heal on their own. I am amazed that he does not appear to have any broken bones, other than the ribs, but you should have that confirmed by x-rays at the hospital. I am concerned that he may have some internal bleeding, which is another reason he should be taken to the hospital. His tongue has been badly bitten and that will have to be stitched-"
"Is that something you can do?"
"Yes, I will do that before I leave. I am sure he has some tears in his abdomen muscles, which will have to heal on their own. Here are some prescriptions, which will help with the pain, as well as sleeping pills. The pain medication he can start taking right away, but do not give him any sleeping pills for the next 72 hours. We have to be careful that he does not slip into a coma if he has a concussion. I'll be honest with you Tea, what I have laid out for you are the things that a human can detect. There are so many other possibilities that only a high-tech machine could detect, and I think you should try to get him to the hospital as soon as possible."
Tea listened, without really listening to what Dr. Scott was saying. She heard the main things he said, "no broken bones," and "internal bleeding," things like that, but everything else seemed to slip past her. She was paying attention, at the same time she was thinking of how she could still lose him - despite doing the right thing.
"He is in danger. If he is bleeding internally, or if a lung is punctured - which is a very real possibility - he could die. I did hear what could have been fluid on his lungs, but that could only be confirmed by a chest x-ray."
He could still die. He could die. Leave you like everyone else. Die.
"Tea, Tea are you listening?"
"Uh, yes. Well, I appreciate you coming by. Do you think maybe I should hire a nurse to stay with us until he gets back on his feet?"
"If he will not go to the hospital, I think that's the next best thing you can do for him."
"Could you arrange that?" She asked hopefully.
"Yes, I will do that as soon as I get back to the office. I also need to stitch him up." He looked at his watch, cleared his throat, and held his hand - palm up - toward Tea. "I'll finish up with him and then I need to get going," he said, waving his greedy palm.
"Thank you again," Tea said, retrieving the check she made out earlier from her pocket.
"You're welcome," he said, double-checking the amount on the check. "Be sure to get these filled as soon as possible," pointing to the prescriptions.
*****
Tea had debated as to whether or not it would be safe to leave Todd alone. She started to call Roseanne and have her pick up Todd's prescription and bring her a change of clothes. But Roseanne was not the most reliable person in the world, nor was she the most discrete. In the end, she decided to have Caitlin do all of her running for her. Not only was she discrete, but also minded her own business.
She called into her office, and Caitlin was bright and cheery as usual. Hearing happiness brought a little light to the otherwise dreary day. "Hi Caitlin, it's me."
"Hi. You have several messages-"
"Not now, okay? I need you to do me a favor."
"Oh, okay."
"I need you to come to where I am, pick up a couple of prescriptions, bring them back here to me - oh and - could you bring the messages with you? And I need you to cancel all of my appointments for at least today and tomorrow."
"Okay, um, I need the address."
Tea gave her the address along with explicit directions to Todd's downtown apartment. "Come right over," she had said, with a sternness usually reserved for fights she had with Todd.
She wasn't going to try and talk Todd into going to the hospital, nor was she going to tell him he was going to the hospital. If there was one thing she learned about him, it was that he would not be forced into doing anything. He would rather suffer than to be poked, prodded and experimented on by a bunch of "overpriced quacks." Instead, she would just lay it all out on the line, tell him exactly what the doctor said and stay with him until he was out of the woods, so to speak.
"Hey," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "The doctor had some good and some bad news for us. The good news is that the only visible breaks you have are your ribs, which will have to heal on their own. The bad news is you may have punctured lung, um, maybe a concussion, possible internal bleeding. I can't remember everything, but it is pretty bad." She paused, taking his hand into her own. "He said you need to go to the hospital and have them run some tests to make sure there is nothing else wrong with you."
He managed to shake his head in protest, and give her hand a light squeeze.
"I know you don't want to go, and I'm not going to force you. He wrote a couple of prescriptions, one for vicadin and one for sleeping pills - my assistant is going to have them filled."
His breathing slowed down, returning to its normal rhythm. Tea had learned to listen to his breathing to assess his mood, and his level of pain. If he breathed quick, short breaths, he was aggravated. If he breathed in a steady rhythm, he was calm and not feeling much pain. Deep breaths were substitutes for his moans, his way of masking his pain.
"There's one more thing, and this I will insist upon. I want to hire a nurse to stay with us until you're better. If something should happen, we need someone here trained to deal with emergencies. It only has to be for a few days, okay?" He was unresponsive, which she took to be a good sign.
She sat with him a few more minutes, before deciding it was far to quiet. He never liked the quiet, just as he never liked stillness. For her sake, and his, she turned on the television, not surprised that it was tuned to ESPN.
He could sit and watch ESPN all day and all night. She never understood that, arguing that they showed the same things several times a day. "There is no need for one person to watch the same touch dunk more than one time." Todd laughed so hard, pissing her off in the process. "Uh, Delgado, that's either touchdown or slam dunk." After he explained it to her, she laughed in embarrassment at her own naiveté. "Guess you don't know everything, huh Delgado?" He laughed at that for weeks, teasing her at every moment.
Thinking of being happy made her sadder than she already was. She had fallen so hard, and so fast, in a way she felt like she had hit rock bottom. There was no place else do drop, her heart couldn't hold any more sadness. "I'll be - I'll be right back," she told Todd.
She needed to get away, to a place where she could breathe. Todd was unintentionally sucking all everything she had, from her body. She went into the living room and sat in a corner. Just sat. Rocked. Wrapped her arms around herself.
She considered calling Roseanne again, to check up on her and to let her know she wouldn't be around for a few days. She decided against it, instead she would wait until there was someone who could stay with Todd. She had to go home to get a change of clothes anyway, she would just explain then.
The knocking on the door caused her to spring to her feet, instantly switching to her "take control" mode. Caitlin had made it there in record time, eager as ever to please.
"Caitlin, thank you so much for taking care of this for me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it." Tea handed her the prescription, as well as a fifty-dollar bill for the medicine and five rolled up hundreds.
Caitlin looked at the money in her hand and shook her head. "Thank you, but I can't accept this."
"No, I want you to have it."
"It's my job to do what you ask me, I shouldn't be paid extra for it."
"This is above and beyond the call of duty - no arguments."
"Okay, thanks. So you just want me to pick up the prescription and bring it back here?" Caitlin asked, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Tea hadn't slept, it was apparent from the dark circles that surrounded her eyeballs.
"Um - well - if you could bring some juice, and - come on in and I'll make you a short list of things."
Caitlin discreetly looked around the sparsely decorated the apartment, knowing that it was a man's place. Its dreariness gave it away. She saw a couple of pictures on the entertainment center - one of Tea and one of a little girl. Putting two and two together, she figured that she must be at Tea's ex-husband's place. He had been calling lately, and she had been having mood swings - there was no other explanation. They have the strangest relationship, she thought.
Tea came back into the room, with a list of items for Caitlin to pick up. Juice, soup, chicken broth, all things that were healthy. "Here," Tea said, giving her another twenty dollars.
"Thanks. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Thanks again."
*****
Waiting had never been a strong suit of Tea's. She was a take-charge sort of person, a "do it now" kind of personality. Patience, though she would argue otherwise, was not her strong point. When there was nothing she could do, she would force herself to do things, making to time seem to pass more quickly.
While she waited for Caitlin to bring Todd's medication, she nosed around his apartment. She wanted to see exactly what he had been up to while he was gone, how he had been surviving, what things he held near to him. It was Starr's picture that captured her attention, resting right above the television. It was her picture next to Starr's, the one he used to keep in his office, with the silver frame. She looked closely at it, noticing the fingerprints smudged across the glass and silver.
There were light stains on the furniture; probably accidental spills from nights of drunkenness. A couple of small, but noticeable burns were engraved into the couch. For there to be so little in the apartment, every little thing was so telling. Like the broken glass she had swept up earlier, pitched in a rage. Like the silk scarf, belonging to her that was draped along the back of the couch. Like Starr's hairbrush that had its own little spot in the bathroom.
She didn't notice the little things when she was cleaning earlier. Her attention was focused solely and completely on "order," not on "what made Todd tick." But when she looked, and searched and dug underneath, she saw the sad loneliness that had followed him from Llanview, straight into New York. Just like her. You can't run away from your past - it catches up with you fast.
*****
Caitlin brought everything Tea had on her list, and brought it back in a hurry. She was so damned efficient, Tea thought, making a mental note to give her a raise. She was no dummy, and Tea was sure she had figured out what was going on. A little hush money would ensure she kept things discreet.
It was a chore getting Todd to swallow his medication. He wanted to, but his mouth was so swollen and racked with pain, it took several tries before the pill would go down. When he did, almost immediately, the pain began to lessen. Tea sat with him, talking about trivial things, trying to distract him. Eventually, they both grew tired. She wanted to crawl in bed next to him and sleep. Just sleep. She thought of holding his hand like she had done before, or like he had done for her. That contact, sweet, gentle, contact is all she wanted. She resisted and laid her head on the edge of the bed. When Todd thought she was asleep, he struggled to lift his hand and touched her hair.
