PASSE-PARTOUT: Book One, Chapter 7
I wake up, my head is pounding. God! What dreams! Where is the sacred clot of aspirin? I stumble though to the bathroom and find that the bottle is empty.
Yeah, that would be about it. Hell-dreams and now this.
I fill the sink basin with cold water, dump a plastic bag of ice into it, let it mellow, and plunge my head in. Every pore, every follicle screams for mercy, and I pluck my head out into the air and breathe deep.
“Doth thou live, Paul?”
My face goes numb and like lightning fashion, every nerve in my body begins to tingle. My God…my God…my God…
I shout, “Who’s there?” and run into the living room. Empty. The kitchen. Empty. Every room is the same, but I save his room for last. I whisper to the door, “Dad? Dad?” Nothing. I turn the doorknob and push the door as if it weighed a thousand pounds. The room is as it was. The carpet is gone, the stain on the wall, though faint, still persists.
I look around the room, even checking the closet. And, back out of the room.
I have got to get out. I have got to go somewhere not here.
I take out my phone and dial Jamey’s number. Her voicemail responds, and I reply “Sorry…it’s only been about four hours, but…do you want to go do something? Anything? Get coffee? Play checkers? If you are up, call me back. If not, then sorry…ugh, this sounds like I’m asking you out on a date at three in the morning. Yeah…sorry.”
I get a text saying I can come over and it has an address.
I don’t know where she lives? I didn’t realize that until now.
I take the metro and walk the last half mile to her apartment building, it’s a quiet, nicer part of the city and I wouldn’t think that a paramedic would make that much money. I text her that I’m here and the buzzer rings to open the door.
The main elevator actually works here (imagine that!) and I find myself at the door in the address. I knock. I hear…voices. Female voices.
Oh God. She’s married. She’s dating. She’s involved with someone. Not me. Here I am positively oozing with want for her and she’s with someone.
I sigh, think about leaving, but the door opens, and Jamey is there in warmups. I smell coffee (is she Mormon?) and in the living room, a radio is playing classical music.
“I’m so sorry. I heard voices. I didn’t know that there was someone else here. I didn’t want to wake her up. Please tell her I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
“No. Please stay. It’s fine. I’m off tomorrow and Maggie doesn’t go to work until later.”
“Really…I’m so sorry. Go back to bed. I’ll go home. Tell Maggie I’m sorry.”
Jamey smiles and puts her hand on my shoulder, guiding me to the couch. “Just stay here, and in the morning, you can meet her and blush again. Do you want coffee? Or do you want to go to sleep?”
“Coffee. Please. Do you have anything with alcohol that can liven it up a little?”
“Sorry. No booze here. Milk and sugar?”
“Splendid. Thank you for letting me stay.”
She hands me the warm cup and sits across from me on the couch. “What happened? You sounded really shaky on the phone.”
I look at her and turn to look out of the large windows in her apartment. “I had a bad dream, and when I woke up, I had another. I could’ve sworn I heard Dad speaking to me in the apartment.”
“Was he there?”
“Don’t fuck with me.”
“I’m serious.”
I finish a sip and whisper, “No.”
I keep staring out of the windows and notice that even in the middle of the night, there is a quiet blue tint lining the horizon. I feel the coffee cup in my hands being pulled from them and hear the cup shifting onto the end table. “You know, even with what you’ve been through, I’ll believe what you say, even though you may think I don’t.”
“I know you will. Does that mean we are both crazy, or gullible?” I ask.
“Both.” Jamey smiles, places the coffee in my hands, runs her fingers through my hair (sigh) and walks to the bedroom. I hear the two of them talking as I drift to sleep.