She went to turn on the TV set and sat down on a couch to watch a Tele-tubbies program.

  * * * *

  “Shanice? What’s wrong, girlfriend?”

  Michelle pushed her door wide for her friend to step into her abode. The dour look on her friend’s face told her she’d begun her day on a sad note. Shanice stepped into her Michelle’s living room. She figured they were alone; she wasn’t expecting to find a male stranger carrying her daughter inside her home. Though it took little time for her to recognise who the stranger was, even though he looked far different from the last time she’d seen him.

  “Hi there, Lincoln,” she waved a desultory hand at him. “Long time no see.”

  “Hi there, Shanice,” replied Lincoln who came out of the kitchen when Monique in his arms. “You’re still a fine-looking lady all this time.”

  Shanice managed a weak type of laughter. “I wish.” She plopped herself on a couch and lowered her face into her hands, sniffling.

  “Shanice, what’s wrong?” Michelle came to seat beside her. She waved a hand at Lincoln, indicating for him to take Monique away from the living room. Lincoln turned and carried her towards the direction of her bedroom, leaving both friends alone. “Come on, girlfriend, tell who’s messed up your day.”

  “I’ve fucked up, Mich,” she murmured with her face still covered by her hands, sniffling some more. “I’ve really done fucked up big time.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Shanice? Was it Chris? Did he get at you somehow?”

  “It wasn’t Chris,” she said, finally withdrawing her teary face from her hands. “It’s Eric. I found out today he’s been living a lie the whole time.”

  “How come, girl?”

  And like that, Shanice revealed to her best friend all what the mysterious woman she’d met at her lover’s place had revealed to her. By the time she was through, Michelle too was speechless she couldn’t think of what to say. In a way, it would have been wrong to think of anything worth saying. Instead she pulled her friend closer towards her and gave her a hug while she cried over her shoulder, mourning a love she thought was hers.

  Lincoln was with Monique in her bedroom, and at the moment she was presenting him with her school books. She showed him a picture of a bird she had painted. Lincoln let her talk while he listened to her talk about her class friends and her favourite teachers. He ran his hands through the back of her hair, soaking in her beauty. How could he ever have abandoned such a beautiful child as she the way he had done? Even now as he sat here listening to her prattle about her school and about her mom, and her mom’s neighbours, he couldn’t help being afraid that all this was simply for the moment. That such niceness as that which he was experiencing right now wouldn’t last long. He felt both saddened and depressed by thinking such. It wasn’t until he turned his attention towards the Monique that he realised that she’d long stopped talking and was now paying close attention to him.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  “Nothing ... nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re not. I know when mommy’s happy or sad. You’re not happy.”

  Clever girl, he thought to himself. “Well, actually, I was ... I was just thinking about something.”

  “About what?”

  He decided to take a risk. “I was thinking ... I don’t know ... if maybe your mommy would like for me to stay here or not.”

  “Why not?” she sat up on the bed and looked at him with wide, non-inquisitive eyes. “Why do you think she won’t let you stay?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I used to stay here with her, but that was some time ago ... when you were very little.” Now came the hard part, and his voice started to seem heavy for him. “I had to ... I had to go away.”

  “Why did you? Didn’t you want to stay with mommy and me anymore?”

  “No, no, honey ... it wasn’t like that ... wasn’t like that at all.” he thought he could feel his heart aching to break, feel it beating heavy against his chest. He really felt like breaking down right now into tears, except he knew the tears wouldn’t come. Though the breaking down would come pretty soon. “It wasn’t like that, Monique. You see ... your daddy was sick ... has been very sick, and needed a lot of help. The type of help your mommy couldn’t fix. I had to go someplace where people could help me ... that’s why I had to leave.”

  Monique seemed to analyse this for a moment before asking, “The people, did they help you?”

  “In a way, yes, they kind of did. Matter of fact, I’m happy they did.”

  “Your sickness now, is it gone?”

  A tough question to answer, but he thought he’d give it his best shot. “No, it hasn’t really gone ... being here and but seeing you once again has sort of made it worthwhile.”

  That brought a smile to her face. It was a smile unlike any he’d behold in a long time.

  “I’m going to talk with mommy, and I’ll tell her I want you to stay with us. She’ll listen to me.”

  “Something tells me she’ll listen to you more than she would to—”

  Suddenly he bowled over and grunted at what felt like a sharp pang bite through his stomach and then spread to further reaches of his innards. He heard Monique tap his arm, calling at him at the same time. Her voice asked what was wrong, but Lincoln was caught in the throes of his pain her voice seemed to be coming from a faraway place. Right at that moment he felt so much like wanting to throw up. There came another lightening strike of pain shoot across his stomach region, making him groan louder.

  Monique was shaking his arm frantically, asking him what was wrong. When that didn’t work, she jumped down from the bed and rushed for the door, screaming aloud for her mom. Lincoln fell to his knees and from the rolled himself into a ball by the side of the bed still clutching his stomach and groaning from the terrible pain that was wracking him. He could hear the sound of voices approaching him but for the moment his eyes were watery with tears he could barely make out the forms that spilled through the room’s door and came to kneel beside him. He heard his name being called over and over again. It wasn’t until a hand wiped the film of tears from his face that he was then able to make out the worried features of Michelle who was crouched beside him. Behind her stood Shanice who was holding onto Monique who was already starting to cry. Still all he could do was remain there where he was, clutching his stomach and muttering groaning sounds. He as well was shivering all over like a fish that had been brought out of water.

  “Linc ... Linc, speak to me.” Michelle felt the back of her hand against his neck, feeling for a temperature. “Oh my God, Linc, you’re starting to burn up.”

  And indeed he was. Large beads of sweat were popping all over the hurt features of his face as if he’d just been placed on a burning stove. He kept trying to speak, but it all sounded hitched and guttural.

  “Get ... git ... get me ... th ... there ...” he managed to pull a hand from his stomach region and pointed a shaking finger towards the bathroom door.

  Michelle saw where his finger was pointing to and told Shanice to come over and help her lift him up to his feet. Monique stood where she was by the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself like an Egyptian doll, and bawling her eyes out. Michelle was too distracted at the moment to tell her to keep quiet.

  Shanice forgot about her heartache problem for the time being and took one of Lincoln’s arms and draped it over her shoulder while Michelle helped pull him up to his feet and together they dragged him past the door of Monique’s bathroom and went inside.

  Lincoln was still struggling to articulate his words. “Toil ... toi ... UGHRRR ...”

  Both Michelle and Shanice realised what he meant and led him to the toilet facility. Michelle kicked up the seat and they left Lincoln hanging there on his knees as it wasn’t long before they heard him convulse and make harsh guttural sounds deep in his throat as suddenly he heaved out his bowel discharge into the toilet bowl. He did it a couple more times, all the while holding onto the toilet seat as if for dear life. Michelle led her friend out and back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. It was then she went to comfort her crying daughter.

  “It’s alright, little pumpkin,” she soothed and kissed her forehead. “He’s alright. Everything’s going to be alright.”

  Monique made dry hip-cupping sounds, trying to stem down her crying fit. “Is he ... is daddy going to be okay?”

  “Yes, sweetie. He’s going to be just fine.”

  “He told me ... he told me that he was sick ... that he ran away because he was sick. He was afraid you wouldn’t have him back. I told him that you would.”

  Michelle pulled her daughter to her chest. “He’s here to stay, sweetie,” she murmured. “He’s here to stay.”

  It took an even longer time for Lincoln’s bowel vomiting to quell to a stop. By the time he was done he was mortally exhausted. He slid along the floor and managed to give the door a couple of kicks indicating that he was just about done. When Michelle and Shanice stepped inside, holding their noses from the fetid smell that was now in the room, he was lying on the linoleum floor gasping like one who’d gone up Mt. Everest and forgot to take his oxygen mask. Trails of vomit were on his lower chin and shirt collar. Michelle undressed him and put him in her daughter’s bath tub and gave him a thorough wash and clean. An hour later, long after she’d dried him up and dressed him up in a pair of thick clothes, she led him to her bedroom and laid him on her bed. His shivering hadn’t stopped but it had gone down much and same with his fever. Shanice was in the kitchen preparing him a sup of herbal tea. She brought it for Michelle who then gave it to him to drink up, soothing his pain. She sat down by the side of the bed feeling his temperature, glad to observe that it had gone down for now ... but what about next time?

  Monique stood by the doorway alongside Shanice, holding her favourite doll to her chest, watching.

  “How’re you feeling, Linc?” Michelle asked him.

  “You’ve saved me time and time again,” Lincoln murmured. His voice sounded ragged from the bout of vomiting he’d done. “I don’t know how to start thanking you.”

  “It’s what I was meant to you,” she replied, holding his hand.

  “Funny, I haven’t had it come onto me this strong in a while. I must be regressing.”

  “Is that good or bad?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Not good.”

  “How about your drugs? I thought you had some of those?”

  “I lost my bid for those sometime ago when I ran out of money. There wasn’t any means with which I could ... raise anything.”

  “You stupid man, you could have called me. Why in God’s name didn’t you ever think of doing that?”

  “What? And then risk your wrath? I broke your heart before, Mich. You think it’s ... it’s something I’m happy to live with?” he brought his hand to her cheek and wiped off the single strand of tear that was running down the side of her eye. “You’re so beautiful, Mich. Please forgive me for ever leaving you.”

  “I told you, there’s nothing to forgive. You’re home, and that’s all that matters.” She sniffled and wiped her face then turned to Monique and indicated for her to come over. Monique did.

  “I’m sorry, daddy,” she murmured.

  “Nothing to be sorry, pretty pumpkin. Daddy will be up on his feet in no time.” He cut her a smile.

  “Monique, sweetie, mommy has to go run now and do some stuff. I want you to take care of daddy here while I’m gone. Can you do that for me, sweetie?”

  She nodded. “I’ll look after daddy,” she said.

  “I know you will, honey.” Michelle kissed her daughter’s cheek, and then turned to Lincoln. “About those drugs of yours, do you have like a list of them so maybe I can see what I can get?”

  “They aren’t going to help much,” he said feebly. “They just stem the pain down a bit but that’s all they do.”

  “I don’t care. Do you still recall their names or do you have anything like a list of them?”

  “Yeah ... yeah, just look in my shirt pocket. I think I’ve still got a list there somewhere.”

  Michelle got up from the bed and went out of the room to an alcove by the side of the kitchen in a basket where she’d dumped his vomit-stained clothes. She searched through them till she found a folded piece of paper which contained names of various pharmaceutical drugs and their dosage level. She brought the list to the bedroom and showed it to him.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Though I don’t think you’ll have much luck buying them over the counter. Much of them are expensive.”

  “I’ll see to the ones that I can. After that we’re going to get you to the hospital, but just rest for now. I’ll be back later.” She lowered her face and kissed his forehead. “Don’t you die on me yet, you hear,” she whispered to him. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

  “I won’t,” he whispered back.

  Michelle and Shanice returned to the living room, gathered up their stuff and then they left the apartment.

  They got themselves a taxi and gave the driver Shanice’s apartment address. As they sat in the backseat, Michelle exploded into fresh tears. Shanice wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she said.

  Michelle shook her head and spoke with emphatic pain and despair in her voice. “No, it’s not going to be okay, Sha. My Linc is dying, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Absolutely nothing.”

  It was the bitter truth and even Shanice couldn’t think of a comeback to that. And to think that her problems were more important that her friend’s. They rode in silence after that. Michelle managed to put a clamp down on her tears, but it wasn’t enough to stop the clamouring raging in her heart that her man was fighting the battle of his life ... and losing.

  Chapter Ten

  Eric had camped outside Shanice’s apartment for more than an hour now waiting for her to arrive. He’d thought after her meeting with his ex-wife that she would head for home with crying eyes. It had never occurred to him that she might have anticipated that he too would drop by her apartment to try and see about explaining things to her and instead decided to head someplace else. Eric might have thought about stopping by her friend Michelle’s place if only he knew where it was. He was resigned to sit out by her front stoop and wait for her return. He’d tried her cell number a couple of times and though it rang, it went unanswered. There was an anxious pounding in his heart; obviously he was going to have to do a whole lot of explaining when he saw her.

  Why hadn’t he ever thought of telling her about Tara in the first place? He couldn’t believe the thought had never stumbled to the forefront of his mind all this time until now. Sure, he ought to have told her about his past marriage ... but he’d figured it was much too early in their relationship. Besides, his stint with Tara was a part of his life he’d hoped to forget—aside from her getting pregnant with his baby. But there was nothing he could do about that. The judge and the court system had firmly made sure of that. Thus he was an absentee father, and he’d had no choice but to live with that burden to his name. That part of his life had been over and done with ... at least that’s the way he’d always figured it to be. Still, that notwithstanding, he should have told Shanice about it. But then again, whatever had prompted the bitch to come searching for him all this time they’d been away from each other.

  He shook his head at just how surprising his day was starting to turn out. Surprises just seem to come when you least expect them.

  He stood up from the side of the stoop where he’d been sitting for some time now and stretched himself, watching commuters stroll past him. His ass felt cold and clammy as a rock. His car was parked less than a block away. He could drive on back home and come back some other time ... but what good would that do?

  Just when he was about to give up on whether or not to continue his stay, a taxi drove to a stop less than three feet from him in front of the apartment building. His heart jumped to his throat when he saw the two familiar faces come out of the backseat. Both women’s features clouded into a frown the second their eyes focused on him.

  “Hi, Michelle,” he nodded at Shanice’s friend.

  “Hi, Eric,” Michelle replied, though the coldness in her voice indicated it wasn’t a happy greeting.

  His eyes turned to Shanice who too was staring at him as if he didn’t exist. Probably wishing that he didn’t too. “Hi Shanice … how’re you doing?”

  “I don’t want to talk to you anymore, Eric,” she said. “I don’t ever want to see you anymore either.”

  “You have every right to say that, but first of all hear me out—” he tried to hold her hand but she flung it away from him, wanting to get past him. “Please, Shanice, at least just hear me out ... it’s not what you think—”

  “What the fuck do you expect me to think, Eric?” she yelled at him, immediately regretting it as a couple of faces walking the street turned to look at them. She was standing here by her front stoop creating a scene and that was something she never desired to do. Except she just couldn't help it.

  “We’ve got nothing to say to each other. Just go back and keep living the lying life you’ve been living—”

  “I’ve never lied to you, Shanice—”

  “—how could you look me in the eye and never told me—”

  “—it wasn’t like that at all—”

  “—you’ve just been using me all this time—”

  They would have stood there for a long time trading words back and forth at each other had Michelle not come to their middle to push them aside and thus make them avoid further embarrassment from staring commuter’s eyes.

  “Enough, you two!” said Michelle. “Eric, I don’t think Shanice’s listening to you. I think you’d better leave it for another day.”

  Eric saw the look in her eyes, looked back at Shanice who’d suddenly turned and gone up the stairs into her apartment building and realized it was a no-win situation. He swallowed his pride, turned around and went in the direction of where he’d left his vehicle. Michelle stood there and watched him walk away before going up the stairs to join her friend.

 

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