Undermind: Nine Stories (25 page)

“Go away.”

“I will, sweetheart. But first I need you to
take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I can’t tell you how
important it is for you to stay calm and relaxed right now.”

Lanced tried to take a deep breath, but it
hitched three times before he exhaled. He tried to roll over and
cried out in pain. “Fuck!” he yelled in frustration. He wanted to
turn over and bury his face in his pillow and try to shut out the
world and the horrific reality that he wanted no part of right
now.

“Please try again. Just one deep breath for me.
 I’ll be right back.” The nurse quickly exited the room. Lance
felt a deep, heart-wrenching pain welling up from inside of him,
overshadowing his physical pain for a moment and then the two
sources of agony combined into one hellish, unbearable chorus of
anguish that obliterated all thought, all reason, and any remaining
will that Lance had left to live. Then his heart monitor stopped
beeping and switched to one continuous monotone.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

The next time Lance awoke, it was a week later.
After the medical team at St. Jude’s had gotten Lance’s heart going
again, the doctor decided that he couldn’t take any more chances
and he put Lance into a medically-induced coma to keep him
stabilized.

***

An Accounts Payable clerk named Bob Gorlecki in
Akron, Ohio was sitting at his desk, working on his computer,
processing vendor payments and wishing he was somewhere else. He
was bored with his job but had no willingness to look for something
better or even different. So each day he came to work and he did
what he was expected to do while his mind drifted and his typing
slowed until eventually he was just sitting there doing nothing but
daydreaming. Then when someone entered his office, he’d snap out of
it and resume working; acting like a busy little bee until the
person left and then the process would start all over again.

He was currently entering payment information
for a vendor called Beaumont Security Systems. As Bob began the
process of issuing a check, Devon scanned his mind, looking for
obsessions, vices, problems, fears, hatred, etc., and within just a
few seconds he found something he might be able to use.

Once a year Bob went to Las Vegas, Nevada to
visit a brothel named Sheri’s Ranch in the neighboring city of
Pahrump. He told his wife that the Vegas trips were for annual
seminars about accounting, and she believed him. She had no reason
not to believe him and she also liked having him gone for one week
each year. On the outside, Bob was a decent husband and father who
provided for his family, kept his lawn in good condition, was
friendly to neighbors and voted straight Republican every two
years.

But on the inside, well hidden under the social
veneer of a boring but nice suburban family man, Bob had a secret
longing that his wife could never fulfill.  So he treated
himself to an annual indulgence in Nevada that he told himself
didn’t hurt anybody.

Bob liked his women big. His wife was what he
referred to as a “big, beautiful woman” and that was just the way
he liked women. But he doubted that he could ever talk his Southern
Baptist wife into fulfilling his secret desire. Even if he could,
it still wouldn’t be fully satisfying. His wife was Caucasian and
his fantasy involved a big, beautiful, black woman.

This year’s trip was still four months away so
he was surprised when he suddenly started thinking about it and
recalling previous trips with amazing clarity. He felt like his
mind had somehow instantly turned into a movie screen on which
scenes of his past encounters were being played back in much more
vivid recall than he’d ever had before. In addition to watching his
own memories, he could even feel the sensations he had felt when
living these experiences the first time around.

Bob’s typing began to slow down.  He was
barely focusing on his computer screen. As he became aroused, his
eyes started to glaze over, his respiration slowed and his
heartbeat increased. He had just started typing the dollar amount
to be paid when his hands became still with his fingers barely
hovering over his keyboard and he closed his eyes, watching the
mental movie of his experience last year with Kwaneshia.

Devon left Bob for a moment and paid a visit to
another employee named Shirley who had sorted the incoming mail a
while ago but had put off delivering it while she played an online
game called Farmville. Devon made her think, “I really should get
back to work - or at least give Bob his mail before he comes out
here looking for it and catches me on Facebook.”

Shirley finished typing a message to her
friends, letting them know she was in desperate need of three
sawhorses and pleaded for assistance. She then minimized her web
browser and picked up Bob’s mail and went to deliver it to him.
When she reached Bob’s door, something told her she should knock
loudly and rapidly and so she did, even though the thought was
strange and made no sense. On the other side of the door, Bob was
startled out of his sexual reverie by the sudden knocking. His
hands jerked, hitting a key on his keyboard. He said “Come in,” but
it came out froggy and unclear. He cleared his throat and said it
again louder and more clearly.

He had nothing on his screen to be embarrassed
about, but his face was flushed and his mind was nowhere near where
it should have been, so he peered intently at his screen trying to
locate the cursor, not remembering where it had last been or what
he had been typing. He found it blinking to the right of a dollar
amount, followed by a decimal point. He quickly typed two zeroes to
complete the amount and tabbed over to the space next
to
 
Pay Exactly.  
He
looked over at the numerical dollar amount and quickly typed out
the words for that amount.

“I’ve got some mail for ya, Bob,” Shirley said
and noticed that Bob’s face was red. “Are you feeling okay? Your
face is red as a beet!”

Bob loosened his tie and said, “I’m fine. Just
fine. But it does seem a little hot in here. Is the A/C on?”

“It’s on alright, but it’s hot enough outside to
fry eggs. It’s only 92 but they said the “feels like” was gonna be
over a hundred. You think it’s that global warming?” She set a
small stack of envelopes on the corner of his desk.

“92 seems about right for this time of year.” He
glanced at her briefly, then returned his attention to his screen
and continued typing to silently convey that he was too busy for
talk about the weather.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work, Bob. Just
wanted to bring you yer mail. You got anything going out
today?”

“I’ve got a few items in my Out basket, and if
you don’t mind grabbing this one I’m sending to the printer right
now, you can take it too.”

Shirley walked over to the printer and took the
check that had just come out. She waited a few seconds and an
envelope followed. She would never understand how that worked with
different things coming out and no need to change the paper or
anything. She folded the check and slipped it in the envelope. As
she sealed it, she wondered why things that came out of the printer
were so warm. She grabbed the other envelopes from the Out basket
on Bob’s desk and said, “I’ll get these out today, Bob. Don’t work
too hard now!” and left his office, wondering if she might already
have a sawhorse waiting for her.

***

A week after Dr. Crandall put Lance into a coma,
he brought him back out, confident that he was stable enough to
face an emotional crisis without causing further damage to his
heart.  He gave Lance a few days to think while recovering
before he brought up the options for dealing with his mangled
leg.

As Lance saw it, his choices were pretty simple:
amputation, or chronic pain. Barring future medical developments or
maybe some kind of stem cell miracle, he’d have very little use of
his leg and he’d be in constant pain of varying degrees.  The
doctor’s opinion was that there was no point in keeping the leg if
would never be of any use to him.

 Lance didn’t want to lose his leg. A
psychologist might have said that he had experienced so much loss
so suddenly that he couldn’t consciously choose to experience more.
He had just lost his fiancé, his best friend, his business, and his
car. He didn’t know how he was going to pay his mortgage so he was
at risk of losing his house as well. All he had left was his life
and his dog. If he lost his house, he might lose his Domino too. He
cared little for his life. If it wasn’t for his dog, he’d just end
it. But he loved Domino and the only pleasure he had left in life
came from having him and knowing that at least he’d never be
betrayed by him.

A dog didn’t have it in his nature to make a
promise and then go back on it later. Everything in Domino’s world
was crystal clear with no shades of grey.  No ambiguity or
uncertainty. To Domino some things were good and some things were
great. Some things were bad and some things were very bad. Lance
was great. Mailmen were bad. Those were cold, hard facts to Domino
and they would never change.

Lance was finally discharged three weeks after
he was brought out of his coma. Most of his pain had reduced to
bearable levels as his body healed. His leg was the one exception.
He hoped it would hurt less as time went on, even though the doctor
said it probably wouldn’t. When he took enough medication to
sufficiently dull the pain, his mind was pretty useless. His brain
felt fuzzy and he couldn’t bring himself to really care about
anything. He just wanted to sleep.
 
What a life this will be,
he
thought.
 
And I’m going to be a
great companion to Domino.
 
 He started to cry at the thought of being
worthless to his only remaining friend.

When Lance had awakened from his coma, he had
eventually thought to ask if his phone had been found in the
wreckage. His phone was brought to him and a friendly nurse bought
him a charger. Among the missed calls, voice mail and text
messages, there was a text from Kim letting him know that unless he
objected, she would take care of Domino until he came home, and
that she would even make sure to not be there when he came back if
he still didn’t want to see her.

He appreciated that Domino would have someone he
loved taking care of him while he was away, but he still wanted
nothing to do with her. Lance knew that Kim was one of the great
things in Domino’s life, but he was just going to have to get along
without her after he came home.

Lance wondered if Kim was doing anything about
the bills that must be piling up. He supposed she could be signing
his name on checks and mailing payments, but he barely cared one
way or the other. He should have received the huge check from his
last job by now, but Kim couldn’t deposit it.

Finally, the doctor told Lance that he could
leave and gave him some prescription bottles as he asked Lance if
he knew someone who could pick him up. Lance asked if a cab could
be called for him. A short while later, a nurse assisted him into a
wheelchair and handed a pair of crutches to him to hold on to as he
was wheeled out to the waiting taxi. Before the nurse came, he sent
a text message to Kim:
 
I’m coming
home. Please don’t be there. Thank you for taking care of
Dom.

When the taxi pulled up in front of his house,
Domino somehow knew that Lance was home. He barked, expressing his
excitement and happiness and he pawed frantically at the door. When
Lance opened it he had to hold on to the doorframe to keep his
balance as Domino jumped up trying to reach Lance’s face with his
tongue. For the first time since the wreck, Lance smiled. He
ordered Domino to calm down and give him a minute to get inside.
Domino didn’t even consider complying with the order.

Lance was glad to have the distraction of
Domino’s love and affection. His whole life was now changed for the
worse and he resisted thinking about everything he had to do. The
one thing that couldn’t wait though was paying his rent. He didn’t
know what his checking account balance was, but he knew it had to
be bad since he’d made no deposits since he’d been hospitalized. He
sent a text message with the word “Bal” to his bank. A moment later
his phone chimed with a reply text informing him of his balance,
which was negative.

He couldn’t really blame Kim for having
overdrawn his account by sending checks he didn’t have the funds to
cover. He made it clear to her that she was welcome to stay at his
house since he needed someone to take care of Domino, but
otherwise, he wanted nothing to do with her. No communication at
all. So he hadn’t told her not to pay his bills.

He remembered the check that should be in his
pile of unopened mail and realized that being a few hundred in the
hole didn’t even matter since he’d be making his biggest deposit
ever – once he found a way to the bank. Not wanting to waste his
small fortune on cab fare, he needed to call his insurance company
about settling on his car, which he assumed was totaled since he
himself was nearly totaled in the wreck. Filing an insurance claim
was just one more thing he didn’t have the energy or will to deal
with yet, but he did need to deal with the bank. If he was going to
go on living, he needed a house to live in, food, water, etc.

He reached for the pile of mail that Kim had
left on his coffee table and quickly leafed through the envelopes
looking for the one from Ohio. He found it and opened it. When he
saw the check he told himself the pain killers must be messing with
his mind. The check was made out for $12.00. He looked at it more
closely to see if he was misreading it and seeing a period where
there was actually a comma, but it was also written out in plain
English:
 
Pay Exactly: Twelve
Dollars.