Ray went outside to give us some privacy, which we spent melted in a close embrace. We kissed enough for our mouths to memorize the feeling of the other's lips and for our brains to retain it.
"Are you done yet?" Ray joked.
"Yes, for now!" I was glad that Frankie and I had reached an agreement, I hated when we'd have to employ force with him. It felt extremely cruel.
"You think you can walk, Frankie?"
"'C-course I can w-walk, Ray." he replied offended.
"I'm not that sure..." I mumbled. Ray helped him out of the bed and made him stand on the floor, yet holding him. Frank swayed and went pale, and we thought that he was going to swoon. He laid his head on Ray's chest and stayed like that for about a minute.
"Are you okay, Frankie?" I questioned worried.
"Y-yeah, better. R-ray...carry me? L-legs feel w-weird."
"Of course." he left the room with Frankie in his arms, but motioned for me to wait.
"I left him with Donna because I need to tell you something before I leave." he came back and closed the door behind him.
"What's wrong, Ray? Don't scare me more!"
"Oh no, it's nothing bad really. While I was in your house feeding Puppy, Grace called."
"Fuck! I'd completely forgotten that I never got to tell her what I found out. Well, I couldn't even if I'd wanted to...save she called me. "
"She said they were full of work, many new patients that gave her a lot of trouble."
"What did you tell her? Oh, God! Now that I think of it...those fuckers might have...hacked my phone or however you call it when they do that!" I panicked.
"Maybe the judge's phone was 'hacked' and they got to you through him...but anyway, I thought of that too. I let Grace know that you were at the hospital due to something related to that situation, so I preferred not to talk about it by phone. She was fucking worried about you and Frankie and begged me to at least tell her how you were doing. And most important...she bought a cellphone and gave me her number, so now you can call her."
"Oh, better! I guess I can inform her that way, and tell her to stay away from it all. But Ray...what if they can also listen to my conversations through my cellphone?" I doubted, paranoid again.
"I'll lend you mine when you're back home. And yes, please, make sure Grace doesn't do anything either, it was enough with you."
"I will, now I know what those guys are capable of."
"Ok, that's all. See you tomorrow morning, Gee. I'll tell Mikey to come in."
"Good night Ray, and tell Frankie I love him."
"You think he doesn't have it clear yet?" he laughed.
"You just do!"
"Ok, ok! Love..." he rolled his eyes. Ray really needed a girl.
After one and a half more days there, they gave me a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers and released me. The previous day had been very similar to the one before: Frank had spent the whole time with me and Lissa had spoiled him with cookies and juice. The nurse had also let him help change my bandages as she had promised. Frankie kept the gauze in place while she wrapped the white cloth around my body, and even told her that he wanted to be a nurse when he grew up. As days went bye he had gotten even quieter, but that way we at least didn't need to get into a fight every time we wanted him to do something. He was less combative, which was a good thing.
I was still in pain, but it was mostly my shoulder and arm, and not my whole upper body like during the first two days. It was a tolerable pain as long as I didn't try to move my arm -a pointless attempt since it was still fastened to my torso- or have Frank squeezing me.
******
Ray drove us home. When we got there, instead of helping me out, my mother told me to wait. What the fuck? There was nothing I wanted more than to finally be at my house, in my own bed cuddling with Frankie.
"What do I have to wait for, mom? I'm tired, I need my bed!"
"I'll only go for Puppy and his things, then we'll go home." she semi screamed, as she was already heading towards the house.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" I fully shouted, startling Frankie. "Sorry, baby but...Ray...what did she mean with 'home' if she's not letting us out?"
"W-wanna get in t-too." Frankie groaned.
"Well Gerard, use your brain. Do you think you're in the right condition to take care of the house, Frankie, Puppy and yourself? I don't think so."
"Oh, fuck..."
"Your mom will try to work less, but she still has to do it, and I can only be here half a day. So we thought it'll be better if you three stay at your old house for some weeks. This way you'll always have someone to help you since Mikey and Alicia are having some days off from college."
"Can't they come here?" I grunted.
"You don't have room for them to stay. Why make them travel here every day when you can just stay there and stop being so grumpy!"
"Ok, fine! I'll stay there!"
"W-we're staying with D-donna? C-cool!" Frankie cheered. At least one of us was happy.
"What about my things?"
"They're in the trunk, I picked them up earlier."
"My cigarettes?"
"Yeah, saw a pack and threw it in too. I thought you didn't smoke anymore?" Ray turned to me frowning.
"Only sometimes, and I'm afraid I'll need it."
"I d-don't like the s-smell. Eww." Frankie wrinkled his nose.
"Don't worry babe, I won't smoke in front of you."
"Back! Here's your doggie, Frankie!" mom handed him his pet.
"I told Gerard what we decided." Ray snickered.
"Oh! That's why he has that face!"
" One week! One fucking week and not more than that!" I announced. They ignored me.
I hated the idea of living under my mother's rules again, and specially now that I was with Frankie. I knew that she would be controlling everything we did and constantly finding failures in the way I acted with him. That's how most mothers were, and now she was Frank's mom as much as she was mine. In addition, moms become even more of a nuisance when their kids are hurt or ill. And I was not to forget that Alicia would be fangirling over Frankie the whole week and Mikey just complaining because it was his favorite sport.
As I thought about all that -lost in my bad mood- time flew by and we were already in my old neighborhood.
"Oh, joy! The week from hell has begun!"
CHAPTER 43
I'm taking my ride with destiny,
willing to play my part.
Living with painful memories,
loving with all my heart.
Still slow but feeling steadier, Frank walked from the car to the house with Ray following close just in case. My mom insisted on helping me, no matter how many times I told her my legs were perfectly fine.
"You better go sleep, son...or to bed at least." she kissed my cheek.
"Ok." I grumbled. I was tired and kinda weak after all, and my terrible mood didn't make me feel like being in anyone's company other than Frankie's. I headed straight for my old room, but my mother stopped me.
"I set up my room for you, I'll sleep in yours...or on the couch. You'll be more comfortable on the double-sized bed, specially knowing Frankie will want to sleep with you as always. Oh, and the mattress is wrapped in plastic, so it won't be a major problem if there's...wetness." she smiled.
"Thanks." I gave her a one-arm hug, feeling a little guilty for acting like an asshole; she was only caring for us. As I turned to leave Frankie entwined his fingers with mine, silently shuffling behind me.
"Not you, Frankie! You come with me and I'll make you some milk with cookies first." mom told him. He looked at both of us, pensive.
"L-later. H-have to take c-care of Gee n-now."
"Aww babe, I'll be fine. Go with Donna and when you're done you can come join me."
"N-no."
"You haven't eaten anything since breakfast, boy." my mother added.
"Y-yes, Lissa g-gave me c-cookies."
"That's true, she did." I laughed. "He always seems to find someone to spoil him."
"Oh, but those were not homemade cookies." mom pointed out. "It's not the same! Come on..."
"N-no, later."
"Alright." she sighed. "But I'll go for you in an hour or so."
"K-kay."
"Don't worry mom, once you have it all ready he won't refuse. Frankie's been unable to decline food these last days." I laugh as we walked towards the bedroom.
Getting on the bed with such caution proved to be pointless. As soon as my body touched the mattress Frankie landed on me clumsily. It hurt a lot, but for an instant I forgot about that to look at him. His cloudy eyes stared back at me like hypnotized. Once again I was assaulted by that doubt about whether he had too many things in his mind or it had gone completely blank. I couldn't tell, I couldn't read him at that moment. Wanting to break the awkwardness, I slapped his ass playfully. He shuddered -a not less weird reaction- and then smiled. Still clambered on me, he crept forward and kissed me. I tried to follow the kiss, but the pain in my shoulder made it impossible for me to concentrate. As much as I loved to have Frankie like that, it hurt significantly. However, I knew I'd have to be careful not to hurt his feelings. He shouldn't feel rejected.
"Frankie, you know I love you very much and I really like to be this close to you, but my shoulder hurts a little. Would you move to the side? It's a huge bed so there's no need to be piled up!" I intended to be funny so it wouldn't be so harsh. I was relieved to hear Frankie laugh and roll off me, lying down to my right like he had learned to do at the hospital. Deep inside I was hating myself and my damn shoulder because, leaving the pain aside, I was enjoying the position in which we were. Luckily, my lower body hadn't reflected my enjoyment.
I faced Frank and kissed him all over the face before getting to his lips, his eyes already closing. He had been sleeping a lot and even when he wasn't, he'd look sleepy nevertheless.
"Sweet dreams." I whispered.
I woke up several hours later, realising how much I had missed sleeping on a real bed. It was already night and Frankie wasn't there with me. After a visit to the bathroom, I made my way through the house searching for him. I found him drawing on the kitchen's table, Alicia sitting in front of him.
"Hi, Gerard! How are you?"
"Hi, Al. I'm fine, I guess. I'd just want to get rid of these bandages, they're more annoying than the wound itself." I said. Having my arm stuck to my chest as if they were one piece was driving me crazy.
"Oh, maybe you can take them off and hang your arm from a handkerchief instead. We'll ask your mom."
"Yes, please! Anything will be better!"
"Men...all sissies." she rolled her eyes. Frank hadn't turned to see me, so I got on my knees in front of him. He still kept his eyes on the paper.
"How are you feeling, Frankie?"
"F-fine." he answered in a very low voice. He was abstracted by his task and I noticed that his mouth was semi open, a thin trail of drool running down his chin.
"Oh, baby..." I kissed his head. That image broke my heart. It was too similar to how I'd always pictured patients in mental institutions; just like I had seen them in movies. Yet this was Frankie, my Frankie and he was with me. Something had to be wrong for me to think of that. I ignored whatever Alicia was telling me and went to find a tissue.
"...he took his pills like an hour ago. I didn't see that he was drooling again, sorry..." she went on while I gently rubbed the tissue over Frank's mouth.
"Sure you're fine, baby? Tell me the truth." I asked him again. Just then my mother entered the room.
"Gerard, stop asking him that every five seconds. The kid's fine. We had some chocolate with cookies together, watched TV and now he's drawing here with Alicia as you can see. Just because he's quiet it doesn't mean that he's not fine, son!" mom said. I gave her an 'are you kidding me?' look.
"He's not just quiet. Don't you see that...argg nevermind." I gave up. I knew that no one would be on my side in this case. I chose not to fight with my mother -since that was the last thing Frankie needed- and sat on the chair next to my boyfriend.
"Where's Puppy?" I questioned.
"H-he...at the p-patio playing with the l-leaves. I'll p-play later."
"It's fine, you could fall down if you went now. What have you been doing? Can I see?"
"I d-drew her." he pointed at my brother's girlfriend.
"He's good!" Alicia handed me the drawing. Though his style was simple and infantile he was, indeed, good at it. Even if he only drew stick figures, he'd always add details that made it easy to guess who was who. The hair, the clothes, the attitudes.
I smiled looking at what he had drawn this time. The Alicia on the paper had a huge smile, so huge that it didn't fit her face. She seemed to be dressed in the same way as the real one, or at least the colors were very similar. A caption cloud above her read 'awww', and she was hugging somebody who was shorter than her. You could only see that other person's back; but the messy, long, dark brown hair showed that it was Frankie. At the bottom of the paper he had written 'Alisia' with big letters.
"This is so cute, Frankie!" I told him. Mikey's head popped up from behind me, spying the drawing.
"Good work, Frankie! You portrayed Al as the annoying fangirl she is!"
"Shut up, Mikey. You heard Frankie when he said he likes the way I treat him."
"Sure, sure. That's what he says!" my brother chuckled. "Only one thing, boy. See here? Alicia is with a 'c', not an 's'."
"Ah." Frank stared at the sheet.
"Michael! Leave Frankie alone!" mom intervened. Mikey frowned.
"I just thought it'd be a good thing to tell him so he can learn, what's wrong with it? Jeez, mom!"
"Really...I think it's ok." I supported my brother. "I often correct him when he says or writes a word wrong, too. It's a way to help him get better at it."
"I understand that, but Goldberg said we shouldn't press him at the moment." she argued.
"I didn't press him, it wasn't a big deal. It's not like I made him figure out what was wrong by himself, I just told him the right way to write it!" Mikey continued, not willing to let her win. He hated when she exaggerated. Not knowing what else to say to sustain her point of view, our mother left irritated.
Without a word, Frankie snatched the drawing from me and took the rubber. He erased the 's' and replaced it with a 'c', showing it to Mikey.
"O-okay now, M-Mikey?"
"It's perfect!" he answered. Frank smiled satisfied and returned to what he was currently working on.
I observed him; and as he applied more pressure with the black pencil to make the hair look darker I knew it was me. What caught my attention was the fact that the figure wasn't smiling like the ones Frankie would usually draw. This character's mouth was a straight line. He was having trouble giving the picture the last touches since his hands had started to shake. It had gotten worse lately and sometimes his legs would also tremble, though fortunately that hadn't been very noticeable or frequent so far. That was another reason for me to hate that medication, but it was the best one I could afford - which reminded me that my father's watch was still at the pawn shop with no possibility of being recovered any time soon.
Anyway, talking about side effects, not even the most expensive meds were much better from what I had been told. Grace had assured me that the ones Frankie was taking now, even being slightly cheaper, were among the best ones. My only conclusion was that I'd have to get used to how things were and put up with the problems. I had seen Frank without medication, and that was real suffering for him.
Frankie suddenly threw the black pencil across the table rather rudely and took hold of the red one. At first, he painted a red spot on my stick version's shoulder. Alicia, Mikey and I all looked at each other, but waited. Then he remarked the strokes, making the spot bigger and bigger to end up just tracing red lines all through the drawing while sniffing softly. He moved his hand faster and faster, his lips pressed together so tight that they went white. Without speaking, I detained him and I retrieved the pencil from his grasp giving it to Alicia, who hid it in her pocket.
"Would you give me an extra hand? Just hold the paper in place" I instructed her. Taking care not to touch the main image, I passed the rubber over the red lines trying to make them disappear as much as possible. Frankie stared, sobbing. I knew that I couldn't fix it perfectly, for color pencils are hard to erase; but I hoped Frank would get the idea, the meaning behind what I was doing. Holding the black pencil I retouched some parts of the little Gerard-guy that had been left blurry. Instead of the straight line on his face -which I had purposely erased- I drew a smile.
Frank wasn't crying so loudly anymore, but I could hear him hiccup. I produced another tissue to dry his tears and wipe his nose and mouth, then placed my hand on his chin, pushing his face up.
"There's no blood. Look at me. No blood, baby."
"B-but there w-was and...and it can c-come back. Y-yes, can." he muttered.
"No, it can't and it won't. There's no more blood. I'm fine. I'm smiling because I'm with you and we're both alive and we love each other. So no more sad drawings, ok?"
"K-kay." he assented. I kissed him and when he kissed back we both cried, but I knew these tears were tears of love. Tears of relief because in spite of all and besides the fear and the pain, we still had each other.
We were still kissing lazily, with wet faces and a strong need for mutual support, when I heard Mikey cough.
"Uh...don't mind me, too late." he said, looking past us. He confused the shit out of me. I was about to curse at him, but my mother magically showing up explained it all. Mikey was trying to warn us.
"Gerard, let the boy breathe."
"Donna...I don't think Frankie is complaining." Alicia giggled.
"I do think they're going too fast. I try to get used to it, it's just that...Frankie's like a kid!"
"But he's not, mom." Mikey got up and touched her shoulder. "When it comes to certain things, your new youngest kid is like any other teenager."
I was pleased to have Mikey defend us, though I couldn't help noticing the tone in which he said 'new youngest kid'. He was jealous, even if he was trying to hide it. As if we didn't have enough problems, now my little brother was jealous because he wasn't mom's baby anymore.
"Still...Gerard, slow down." our mother just sighed.
"B-but I like to k-kiss Gee and...and I l-like when we t-touch and also wh-when we..." I covered Frank's mouth before he went too far, sending my mom an apologetic, embarrassed look. Withdrawing my hand, I gave my boyfriend one more short kiss.
"Mom, you know me. Do I need to tell you again that I'd never do anything that Frankie doesn't want to?"
She shook her head 'no' and disappeared. I was certain that she trusted me, she just needed time to digest our relationship. It wasn't so much about me, it was more about Frankie. She had to assimilate the idea that he wasn't a child.
"Well, what about you draw something nice and happy now?" I suggested Frank.
"Y-yeah, kay." He agreed. He grabbed a pencil and tried to start, but his hand would not stay still. He held that hand with his other one with the intention of controlling it but of course, they were both shaking equally badly.
"C-can't." he pouted. "It...it's g-gonna be ug-ugly like th-this."
"Come here." I made him sit on my knee and took his right hand firmly in mine. "What do you wanna draw?"
"A h-house."
"Ok, leave your arm loose, I'll guide you."
Not without difficulty, I led Frankie's hand across the paper and drew everything he requested. After the house it was a tree, tall and with profuse foliage. Then came big mountains, cottony clouds, birds flying everywhere, an enormous smiling sun and a little spotted dog.
"Y-you draw so p-pretty." Frank breathed out.
"Nope, you drew this, it was your hand!"
"N-no I didn't. I th-think my h-hands move like th-this 'cause...'c-cause they don't w-wanna do what I t-tell them. Th-they're mean and d-don't like me. G-gonna buy n-new ones. Y-yes." he muttered. We all laughed at his witticism, but he didn't; he had spoken seriously. It was sometimes hard to know whether he was joking or really believing what he was saying. It was the second option this time.
"Your hands do like you, how could they not? You're the most likeable person ever! The shaking is because of the meds, remember? And you can't buy hands, baby."
"Y-yes you can. Y-you buy th-them in a hand sh-shop."
"There's no such thing as a hand shop, Frankie." Mikey said still laughing.
"Y-yes, th-there is. Y-you go and ch-choose the hands you l-like."
"Ok, next time we go out you show me where it is." I proposed. Even hearing him talk nonsense was a lot better than having him lethargic and silent.
"K-kay."
After dinner, I decided that I needed a shower. I hadn't had a real one in more than three days. I knew that my mother would say it was too soon, so I locked myself in the bedroom and cut the exasperating bandages off, leaving only the gauze over the wound. My arm felt even more sore after being freed, but I could at least move it a little from the elbow down. Next I covered the gauze with a piece of plastic bag and fastened it with duct tape. Once ready, I went to search for underwear and clean pajamas. I was doing this when someone knocked at the door.
"Who is it?" I asked, fairly sure of the answer I'd get. I was wrong, though.
"F-frankie."
"Wait a second, babe." I opened the door and he shuffled into the room, looking around.
"Wh-what you d-doing?"
"I was gonna take a shower."
"M-me too, then." he slowly walked to his bag and got on his knees to look for clean clothes, just like I was doing.
"Mom! Gonna go take a shower!" I called once out of the room. Bad move. She came to us in no time, looking concerned.
"Oh, Gerard...you sure you can? Maybe you shouldn't get the wound wet yet..."
"I already took care of that, it won't get wet. And I'll be careful."
"Guess it's fine, then. But...how are you gonna do to...?"
"Mom...I have two arms. I can perfectly wash myself with my right one. Please, I'll be fine!" I tried to spare me any more objections.
"Ok..."
"G-gonna shower t-too." Frankie announced.
"Nonono, if you wanna shower you wait until he finishes."
"W-we always sh-shower together." Frankie commented, my mother only now finding out about it. Her glare let me know that she didn't like it at all. I was thankful that she saved her opinion for another moment.
"Now you can't. It's gonna be more difficult for Gerard to take a bath using only one arm, and he needs more space to be comfortable. Besides, you've been dizzy and he can't help you properly. It's dangerous." she explained to Frankie. However, I knew that wasn't the real reason for her negative, or it wasn't the only one. She just hated the idea of Frankie and me being naked together and alone. I did understand her; that's why I didn't complain anymore and told Frankie to do as she said. But I was getting sick and tired of all that.
******
Two days later I was already desperate, exhausted. Frankie was a complete zombie half of the time. He wasn't exactly too animated the other half, but he would at least move and speak a little more and have somewhat normal reactions. He'd not had any more crisis or panic attacks related to my shooting while awake, although he would sometimes get very agitated in his sleep. He would twist, turn, whimper and even scream about blood before waking up frightened. During the last night he had peed the bed again. We all acted as if it was completely normal, behaving as naturally as possible because we didn't want Frank to feel worse than he already did. He'd always cry every time it happened, saying he was too old to do that
My mother and I didn't seem to agree on anything. She would complain if I helped Frank eat, but would also disapprove if I let him do it with his hands or in any way he could manage. I didn't know if she was out of her mind, or I was too out of mine to understand her.
As expected, she wouldn't allow us to take a shower together, no matter how much Frankie begged for it. While he showered, mom would sit and wait inside the bathroom to be near in case he needed something. The previous afternoon she had even bathed him, since Frank was too out of it to do it himself. It was no big deal for her, being a nurse and having raised two sons. Frankie didn't seem ashamed either and I imagined that Grace probably used to bathe him on some occasions.
Anyhow, as much as I strove to be understanding with my mother, I was enraged. I missed those moments together that Frankie and I would always share at home a lot. We hardly had any privacy there with my mother in the middle. Thankfully, her days off were over. She'd be still working fewer hours than usual, but that would give us some Donna-less time.
Alicia practically lived with us. She only went to her house to sleep, though I knew that would change that night with my mother being out working. Al was truly annoying sometimes, but on the other hand she helped me a lot with Frankie and was the only one who shared my way of thinking. I had to accept, against my will, that I was happy to have her there. Mikey was just...Mikey.
******
I got up from my nap, fighting to fix the bandana holding my arm in a way that it wouldn't fuck up my neck. The first thing I encountered in my way to the kitchen, was my brother complaining to me about Frankie.
"Could you tell your little freak to get off of my bed? I tried to talk him into it, but he started to say things that made no sense. I have no fucking idea what he's talking about! I thought he was medicated?"
"First, don't fucking call him a freak. Second, Mikey, the medication only suppresses or reduces some symptoms, it can't fucking repair his brain. It's normal for him to say things that make no sense once in a while. In those cases you only have to play along, say yes or just nod. Or, if you wanna be nicer -which I doubt coming from you- you could ask him a question including any random word he mentioned and let him answer. He usually feels satisfied if he gets someone's attention." I nearly growled my lecture. Mikey wasn't intimidated.
"Ok, ok, very interesting. But now you do something. I want to study on my bed and I'm not in the mood for this."
"Fine, you...lazy assholish fucker."
"And also make sure that the dog stays out of my room. I like dogs, but not on my pillow, you know?" he screamed. Puppy was used to doing that, and I wasn't going to change his habits for a week.
"Oh, shut up already!"
I found Frank sitting on Mikey's bed looking up. When I got closer, I noticed that he was holding scissors as if they were a knife, absently running them over his other arm. He hadn't caused any damage yet.
"Fucking Mikey! Didn't he see the most important matter here?" I said to myself. "Frankie, baby...you know you can't play with these things."
"Uh?" He loosened his hand when he heard me and I easily rescued the scissors.
"I w-wasn't playing. J-just had th-them."
"The same, you're better off not touching them."
"K-kay."
"What were you looking at?"
"W-was waiting." he mumbled.
"Waiting for what?"
"Th-the Martian p-plant. I...I th-think it'll come here, b-but now I s-sleep in a mom's r-room and...and the p-plant won't look f-for me in a m-mom's room. N-no boyfriends r-room here. B-but...but Mikey's a b-boy and has a g-girlfriend, m-maybe it's the same and it'll c-come here.' he rambled.
"I'm sure the plant can find you in any room. Come on, Mikey needs his bed now."
"H-have to wait. Y-yes...." his looked suddenly absent, astray. He kept speaking but the words didn't match each other anymore. "M-maybe...yeah walls and s-sideways and th-they can't s-see. B-but I do. L-last time w-was not."
"Yes, I know." I replied. "But we'll go watch TV now. You can't sit here waiting for the plant, if it comes we'll smell the oranges."
"Y-you're right. Y-yes." he got up and followed me out of the room.
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