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.He looks like a lizard.That s what Thatcher thought the firsttime he saw Mike, a big scaly lizard.Mike s battle with AIDS hadstripped bulk from his cheeks and sharpened the contours of hisbony face, making his nose narrow into a thin ridge terminating innostrils.His dark eyes retreated deeper into their sockets, givinghis brow ridge prominence.The edges of his mouth pulled back,making him appear to grin wickedly.More disturbing than the changes to his face was the ruin of hisbody.Mike s arms and legs were thin, with folds of blotched andscaly skin hanging from the bone, like clothes on a clothesline.Hisstomach was disproportionately large, swollen from parasites andfluid retention caused by the drugs he was taking.He reminded Thatcher of an anaconda that had just eaten aferal piglet." 83 " RUSS GREGORYMike was bedridden, too weak to stand.He was also angry.Hissurly attitude had chased away two buddies and a handful of helpers.But Thatcher liked Mike s feistiness and angry outbursts.He sawMike s sarcasm as an expression of an inward need to fight againstthe disease and his circumstances a fight Thatcher hoped wouldultimately lengthen Mike s life and give him the will to go on.Soon,Thatcher was dropping by Mike s little house on Carolyn Avenuetwice daily, in the morning to deliver drugs and in the afternoon towalk and feed Mike s West Highland terrier.Straight off the bat Mike directed his anger at Thatcher, callinghim names and questioning his intentions.With his laid-backattitude, Thatcher easily weathered the storms and Mike turnedhis attention elsewhere.One day, while Thatcher was cataloguingMike s meds, he heard Mike call his housekeeper a lazy, jigglinglump of rancid jalapeño jelly. The housekeeper, whose English wasquestionable, caught the nasty tone and shot back, Me no, you lacy,jiggle up racy jalapeño Jell-0. She turned and stomped out of theroom.Mike looked at Thatcher and they both broke out laughing.It turned out Mike was wickedly funny, irreverently attackinganything and everything.He particularly liked to joke about hisdisease, his body, and the loss of yet another vital body function.For his part, Thatcher enjoyed the laughter and grew close to Mike.But it didn t last.Two-and-a-half months after his first visit,Thatcher received a call at two in the morning. Hello? Thatcher fumbled for the bedside lamp switch. Thatcher? The man s voice was unfamiliar. Yes. This is Mitchell Jordan.I m the night-care nurse working withMike Frank. There was some rustling of paper. It says here thatyou re his helper. Yeah, what s happened? I need a hand.Can you come in and help do some cleaning? Now? Well, yeah, if you can. He paused again, and Thatcher tried toclear the muddle of recent slumber from his mind.Mitchell s voice" 84 " BLUEsoftened. Look, I know it s late, but Mike s time is near.I m at hishouse.He needs help and I need help keeping him comfortable. Well, I guess I can.I ll be there in tw Great. There was a click, then the dial tone.Thatcher arrived at Mike s house on Carolyn Avenue twentyminutes later.The entire street was dark, except for the lights shiningthrough the bedroom window.The scene Thatcher viewed as he stepped through the porchdoor burned an image into his subconscious that occasionally blazedacross his mind in nightmarish half-awake moments of sheer terror.The air in the room was fetid and humid, and the overheadlights blazed like the sun.Mike lay naked and sweating, curled upin the fetal position on the poster bed.His swollen, blister-coveredtongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, streaked green and white.It reminded Thatcher of the pickles sold at ball games.Congealingred liquid pooled on the mattress and floor, blood-soaked sheetslay in a heap piled against the dresser.Red splotches discolored thewalls around the foot of the bed, streaking the oak floor.A pudgy,balding man dressed in hospital scrubs stood over him checking theIV bag hanging from the corner bedpost.The balding man looked at Thatcher. You must be Thatcher.Could you grab a mop? Mike s unconscious body heaved forward, spewing bloody vomitacross the bed and onto the floor.It splashed on Thatcher s shoes andmisted the front of his jeans.Thatcher stood staring at his feet for afew seconds, too stunned to move.But soon the shock disengagedhim from his emotions and he strode off in search of a mop.For the next four hours, Thatcher cleaned like a machine.Mike s struggle ended just before dawn.As the morning sun roseover the freeway, Thatcher and Mitchell, both covered in blood, satexhausted on the porch banister.Two somber-looking gentlemenzipped Mike s freshly scrubbed corpse into a body bag and hoistedit onto a gurney.As the gurney was rolled out of the bedroom intothe warm sunshine, Thatcher s world tilted and darkened.Later, Thatcher called ASA and dropped out of the helperprogram.He crawled into bed and slept for much of the next" 85 " RUSS GREGORYweek.Soon the psychic scars from that night fused with hauntingmemories of Adam s last days.In Thatcher s mind, each scenedeepened and emphasized the other to the point where he couldn tescape.Depression enveloped him.Even though that had been long ago, Thatcher knew he couldn tvolunteer like that again.The inner strength he d found for Adamhad disappeared after Mike so ASA was not an option.Thatcher needed something totally different.Swimming mightbe a good way to meet people so he decided to give it a try.On thedrive to the pool, he was full of apprehension.When he first caughtsight of the pool, everyone talking and laughing, he wanted toturn around and go home.But he had made it through the practiceand now, sitting in the parking lot, Thatcher had to admit he hadenjoyed it
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Tematy
IndexFred Saberhagen Berserker 07 Berserker Blue Death
Gregory Philippa Saga Laceyów 01 Dziedzictwo (Majštek Wideacre)
You Can't Get Much Closer Than This Combat with the 80th Blue Ridge Division in World War II Europe
Stormy Glenn and Lynn Hagen Lady Blue Crew 03 Imlay's Cure
Saga Laceyów 01 Dziedzictwo Gregory Philippa
Moore Gregory Nietzsche, Biology And Metaphor
Gina Wilkins Razem czy osobno
Webb Peggy Burza namiętnoÂści
Vademecum maturzysty Geografia R. Domachowski, D. Makowska
Vintage PKD