Paper Cranes (5 page)

As usual, JoJo was right.

At precisely 5:55 PM, I sat in the parking lot of St. Peter’s United Methodist Church, contemplating if I wanted to turn around and go home or go inside.

“What’s wrong with you Kat,” I mumbled to myself in the dark confines of the car. “Get your ass in there.” I was one verbal lashing away from waging war on my steering wheel again.

Screw this, I’m going home.

Turning over the key, the engine choked and sputtered.

No, no, no. Not tonight you piece of shit!

I laid my forehead on the steering wheel, cursing this damn car. It had been nothing but a pain in my ass since I got her. My dumb ass didn’t call Lee either. I was such an idiot. Jo refused to pick up the phone.
Great!
I guess I was going to need to bite the bullet and go inside.

I grabbed my bag from my passenger seat and cranked open the door slightly. With one swift kick of my purple Converse, I freed myself from my captive. Somehow Jo had talked me into jeans, University of Kentucky sweatshirt and Chuck Taylor’s. Usually this would be my Sunday afternoon grocery store outfit, but what the hell.

Time to Carpe the fuck out of this Diem.

Walking into the church, I was immediately bombarded by the scent of residual candles. Vanilla, a scent I loathed. Turning to a giant bulletin board, a handwritten poster read “ALS Support Group, Sunday School Room 8.”

Awesome. Nothing like shedding mortal tears in the house of children disciples.

The door to the room was conveniently open as everyone corralled around a table of light refreshments, stale cookies and canisters of hot coffee. Anxiety started to take over my mind and body as the entire room froze once I entered.

Diverting my eyes, I did a one-eighty; taking a seat in the back of the room. Slowly everyone began to take his or her seats. The room was filled with people in all stages of the disease including family, friends and caregivers. I hadn’t realized I could bring a mini support group for my support. Had I remembered, I would have brought JoJo in a heartbeat.

Some communication!

As much as I would love a few stale cookies to settle my angry stomach, I really wished there were some hot cocoa. I may just need to bring my own next time.
That’s horrible
!

I hadn’t heard anything regarding the topic for the evening so I settled into my uncomfortable folding chair at the back of the room, begging to be invisible. To be perfectly honest, I wanted nothing more than to listen and observe. The “Hi, my name is” bullshit was not my bag, and especially not concerning ALS.

I sat in my seat allowing my eyes to vaguely roam when they landed on a giant projector screen at the front of the room. Reflecting off the screen was a countdown clock till the beginning of the meeting. Never before had a clock seemed so morbid and yet comical. Our lives lived by the second hand while this was a clear reflection of the magnitude of our own mortality.

Shaking my head, I gave a silent chuckle.

The chuckles were a revelation that life fucking sucked sometimes. As much as I hated to sit there in my painfully uncomfortable chair and laugh, I couldn’t suppress the hilarity of the situation. One by one people began to look at me as if I was bat-shit crazy, and conceivably I was at this point.

Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I tucked my head to suppress the tears. I hadn’t been this wrapped up in laughter since the third grade when Ms. Pritchard kicked me out of class because I couldn’t conduct myself as a proper young lady. I couldn’t tell you what the butt of the joke was at the time, however the laughter came from the gut and wouldn’t subside. The type of laughter that reminded me of a can of worms; as much as I tried to hold it back, it was inevitable I would double over and pop.

As I laughed myself to tears, the speaker of the support group tried desperately to get my attention.

“Excuse me, ma’am. What’s so funny?” he asked as I refused to look up from my stupor.

“I just think it’s hilarious how you have a room packed with ALS cases and you have a countdown clock; as if time isn’t always on our minds twenty –four –seven already. I’m sure everyone in this room is astutely aware of when a simple meeting begins, the clock is just a morbid reminder that the clock is always ticking away.”

Quietly at first, you could hear the room begin to chuckle as the humor started to set in. Something told me, this happened very few and far between, but it was the best way to make my grand entrance into this group of misfits. The laughter began to die down and I slowly raised my eyes to see a room of smiles. One of those enormous smiles came from a very cute and very attractive lecturer – Lee Daniels.

What the shit? Why the hell was he here?

“Ms…” he requested.

“Dove,” I replied as the surprised expression covered my face.

“Ms. Dove. You’re new to the group, why don’t you tell us a little about yourself.”

Ah yes, the AA approach to introductions. My favorite.

No part of me wanted to stand up, especially in front of a guy I was attracted to who now knew he had no shot in hell with me. Why would he? In t-minus thirty seconds, he’ll find out just why I’ve put off calling him.

“Hi everyone, my name is Kat Dove,” I stated wringing my hands. “I’m 33, an Aries, and love long walks on the beach.” Humor was and always would be my deflection. It was just simpler to make jokes then to allow the emotions to take over at that moment.”

I received a low rumbling chuckle as I tried to take my seat and blend into the crowd. Just as my ass was about to make contact on the folding chair, Lee spoke up.

“And are you here as a patient, family member, friend or caregiver?”

Panic rushed through my body as I stood back up to address Lee’s question.

“Patient.”

I tried to sit again when Lee threw another question my way.

“And how long have you known you had Lou Gerig’s disease?”

Again standing, “About a month.” Instead of taking a seat, I decided to let it all out that way I could sit down sooner.

“January 20
th
at 1020 a.m. to be exact.”

Recognition began to set in on Lee’s face as he remembered exactly what day that was – the day we met.

“I was having a particularly awful day already, when I was sat down and told the news. I had been through ever test imaginable, but I knew something was wrong immediately. My doctor at the time let me know when I was completely alone. Shitty, huh?”

“Doctors don’t know shit about bedside manner, honey. We’re just another zero on the end of their paychecks,” a sweet little old lady chirped from the front row.

“Right?” I chimed in. “By the time I let it sink in and my best friend got there to console me, I was completely zoned out. My brain shut off and all I kept thinking was…”

“I’m going to die,” a really young guy sitting three chairs down from me said.

“How will I tell my family?” Another twenty something spoke up. Her nametag said, “Denise.”

“How much time do I have?” Another spoke.

“Will I ever get laid again,” a thirty something man said three rows in front of me.

“Exactly,” I responded. They got it. They knew exactly what I was thinking and how I was feeling. That was something JoJo would never understand as badly as I wish she could.

“Most importantly though, am I tough enough for this battle?”

“I think if you ask anyone in this room, they’ll all tell you the same thing. You are stronger than you think. And of course you can still get laid, Kenny. Don’t sell yourself short big man,” Lee interrupted our conversation.

I wanted so badly to believe this disease wouldn’t cripple my sex life, but let’s get honest here. And what about having kids, growing old, having grandkids. That was never going to come to pass. Then it happened. What I had dreaded since the mention of coming to this blessed meeting – I began to cry.

I sat down, allowing Lee to begin his lecture as I tried to collect myself in front of the group. Sitting next to me in a high-tech wheel chair was a woman not much older then myself with the nametag, which read, ‘Chris’. She was so beautiful and yet there wasn’t a sad bone in her body just then.

“I have tissues in my bag on the back of my chair if you need them, sweetheart. I’d help, but I lost mobility in my arms and legs about a year ago.”

Although it shouldn’t have, seeing Chris like this made me uncomfortable. Not because of the wheel chair, but because I would be in her shoes one day. I was looking into my future right before me. The horrible part about ALS is the cognitive functioning. The disease never takes a hold of your brain, but eats away at your muscles until you can no long move. Your brain is fully functional and at some point or another, you are a prisoner in your own body. If it weren’t for advancements in technology from eye movement controlled computers to assistance sticks for keyboards, you would literally see the world passing you by, unable to do anything about it.

“Thank you,” I said as I reached into her bag extracting a Kleenex pack of animal print tissues.

“Cute tissues,” I blew my nose.

“I have to keep some part of my personality alive,” she laughed quietly.

“Well I love your style.”

“First meeting?” she asked.

“Yep, how could you tell?” I grinned from beneath my tissue.

“You can always tell, but you shared more than most on their first rodeo. Props!” Chris responded as her expression maneuvered with her eyebrows.

“But I cried,” my brow furrows at my response.

“So what. We all do. Ain’t nothing we haven’t already seen or heard before. Listen, this room is a sanctuary for those folks who need to vent, are sad, need info or who have people in their lives who have no clue what it means to have this fucking disease. You won’t be judged here, so never feel silly or dumb for speaking your mind. Trust me, I’ve said and done some stupid shit with this group.”

Chris was refreshing and honest, a rarity regardless of the situation.

“So Lee huh? What do you think?” she asked with a grin.

“Not bad, not bad at all,” I giggled.

“Yeah, I’d tap that if I could actually tap,” she joked.

“Sweet, Jesus.”

“Most guys aren’t exactly thrilled when you can’t give them a hand-job. Doesn’t mean I can’t give a wicked blowjob though. Hey, work with what you got, right?”

It took every ounce of me not to bust out laughing just then. Chris’ attitude was refreshing and gave me a new found hope I was missing. From her voice alone, she sounded and acted just the same way as JoJo and I had. The only difference was; she had progressed further into the disease than myself. Nothing was different except for her physical attributes, but even then, they didn’t hinder her in anyway.

I definitely can’t pick and choose how this beast will work, but I’m suddenly glad I came tonight even if it was just to meet Chris. She gave me insight into making it work and still being herself regardless of the circumstances.

Considering the meetings were only once a month, we became friends on Facebook and swapped numbers at the end of the meeting in hopes of getting together soon. Although I was getting to know a new friend, I couldn’t help but notice Lee staring at me throughout the meeting. This was definitely not a good thing, at least that’s what I kept telling myself.

“Enjoy the meeting?” his deep voice penetrated into my soul. “Sounds like you and Chris hit it off nicely.”

“Surprisingly, I had a good time and Chris is awesome. I’m sorry about my little breakdown earlier. I haven’t exactly…talked about this aloud except with my best friend.”

“I think you did wonderful. You need to cut yourself some slack every now and then. This is going to be hard, but it’s okay to let other people in,” he stated as if he were trying to convince me that being
his
friend was the only friendship that mattered.

“Duly noted.”

“You never called,” he said out of the blue. “I mean, I get it now, but still. You never called.”

“I don’t even think I have your number anymore to be honest.” That was a lie. A bold face lie. The beautiful crane was perched on my bedside table that way I could see it every day. And every day it would remind me how grateful it was to wake up to another day.

“Well, here’s my number again. Call me about the car, or just call. Anything you need or want, I’ll be there.”

He sounded more like an AA sponsor than a mechanic/support group lecturer. His sentiment reminded me of every time JoJo’s mom offered to drive me around as a teenager. Not having a license even at sixteen was embarrassing. Jo’s mom was always the first one to step up and offer to take me anywhere I wanted, all because I couldn’t pass a damn driving test. She offered often, but I always refused her taxi service, much like I’ll probably refuse help from Lee.

Lee was way too hot to be spilling my deepest, darkest secrets to. I knew myself well enough that I would start to obsess over him; where was he, what was he doing, who was he doing it with. I was already taken to the guy. I needed to play this safe.

Yeah, okay.

As he turned to walk away again, my phone began to buzz with the sounds of Beyonce.

“Hey Jo,” I moaned as I answered the phone.

“I saw you called. What’s with the lust-filled voice? There’s hot guys there, isn’t there?”

“My car is jacked up again, can you come get me?” I begged, ignoring her insinuation.

“No can do my friend. I’m working late tonight. Can you call Uber or a cab?”

Looking down at my palm, I noticed another paper crane from Lee. This time, the crane had Lee’s number under the wings and, “You are stronger than you think” written in perfect cursive.

I grabbed my bag and made a mad dash to the parking lot. Standing next to my car was Mr. Sexy himself.

“I just wanted to make sure she started up. It’s a little chilly tonight and I would feel bad if I left you out here to fend for yourself. Especially since you haven’t come to my shop to get it looked at,” he winked in an annoyingly charming manner.

“Jo, I’ll see you at home. Later,” I said as the muffled remains of Jo’s voice quickly faded.