Ana was never coming back but he didn’t need to argue with Isis over it. “Yes. Clear as glass, Miss Bossypants.”
“You can call me all the names you want, Jerry, but at the end of the day I will still kick your ass. Now, tell me about your cancer. Brain cancer?”
“Brain cancer. Glioblastoma multiforme.” He spelled it out for her because he didn’t know the signs for the proper medical name, if there even were any.
“It’s growing in your head?”
“Yes. It’s the cause of my headaches and lately it’s making me want to throw up, my eyesight sucks, I’ve started having seizures, my memory is like Swiss cheese, and my moods are swinging like crazy.”
“Can they operate on it? Chemo? Radiation?”
“They haven’t decided, yet. I just told them to cut my head off because I don’t use it that often anyway.”
She smiled for the first time since they’d started chatting, but it didn’t last long. “Is there anything else you can do? Acupuncture, psychic surgery, leeches?”
“Leeches? You’ve been watching too much History Channel. I do have a Hindu swami who has aligned my chakras and is going to do more energy work to make me more at peace, but even he reluctantly agrees that I need a real miracle to get through this alive.”
“Even more reason to find Ana and make up. If you have to die, at least don’t be a lonely idiot when you do.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Good. Mom and Dad are out at a Lincs game, but I’ll tell them that we talked and everything is cool. I mean, except for you dying soon. That’s not cool.” She wiped away sudden tears with the sleeve of her sweater.
“I know what you mean, Kiddo. I’ll call next week after my family has left, but in the meantime, tell your folks I love them, and tell your dad to be safe.”
“Always. You, too. I love you.”
“Right back at you.”
“Now go find Ana.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Later, ’gator.”
“On the flipside.”
“Isis out.”
“Jerry… out.” They disconnected simultaneously. He sat, staring at the screen, but was interrupted from forming any great, world-changing thoughts when his stomach rumbled. He squinted at his watch. “Six o’clock? I’m sleeping what life I have left away.” Getting up, he whipped up a simple microwave omelette, made toast, and chased it all down with a couple of painkillers and a glass of thick-pulp orange juice, before returning to the desk. He stared at Sushi, who probably wondered where the strange floating lady who fed him had gone.
“I’m sorry, buddy. She completed her mission and moved on. We’re back to just you and me.”
JERRY WAS HALFWAY through his second attempt to watch the fake Anastasia deal with the doubters of high society when his phone buzzed with an incoming message. It was from Mika, wondering how he was doing.
Not sure he wanted to talk to her, he replied with a text. “Not at all good. Ana is gone, forever, this tumour is kicking my ass, and I’m losing. Good news is my mom and sister are arriving Friday.” Once the text was sent, he turned on the laptop, started the music, then shuffled into the kitchen and started cleaning up the mess, careful not to cut himself on the shards of the plate and mug. She’d only been in his life for two weeks, but he kept expecting Ana to pop up and do something silly, to make him laugh and distract him from, well, from dying.
The sixties playlist he’d selected buoyed his mood, brushed off some of his funk, and gave him a little more energy. When the kitchen was relatively clean, he moved on to the bathroom, where he wrung the rain-soaked pyjamas out over the tub, then hung them up to dry. A passing glance in the mirror startled him and he realized that he hadn’t shaved in a day or so, his hair was sticking up at odd angles, the bandage over his stitches needed changing, and he had dark bags under his eyes. “I can’t do much about the baggy eyes, but I can manage an electric razor and a comb without hurting myself. The bandage may be a bit tricky.”
He managed to shave, comb, and awkwardly re-bandage, then made his way out to the couch when he was done. On his way past the computer he shut off the music. By the time he was settled into the couch, he was ready to stay there for the evening. He called up Netflix on the big screens again and scrolled through until he found BBCTV’s Sherlock. “Not too dark, not too cheesy, just what Doctor Watson ordered.” The intercom buzzed, indicating that someone was down at the street door. “Ana?” He rushed to the speaker mounted on the wall and pressed the “Talk” button.
“Hello! Ana!”
“No, Jerry, it’s me, Mika.”
That’s when it truly hit Jerry. No matter how many times he answered the door or picked up the phone or opened a book, it would never be Ana. He buzzed Mika in and slid to the floor, so great was the weight on his soul. Even if he weren’t dying, he would have wanted to after losing Ana.
MIKA FOUND HIM sobbing, just inside the door, and helped him up and onto the couch. She tried to get him to talk, but he just couldn’t get the words out past the sobs, so she held him close. She hoped that when his tears ended she’d be able to get him to explain what had happened, but instead he fell asleep. She shifted their positions on the couch a bit, lay Jerry down, nestled in behind him, and pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and over them both. She didn’t know what else to do.
“SHE FORGAVE HIM and then faded away? There’s no sign of her anywhere?” Mika handed Jerry a cup of tea and sat down beside him with her own cup. The afghan wrapped Jerry like a cocoon with two pale hands poking out to hold the cup and saucer.
“Nothing. There’s the bullet hole, the bloodstains, and the inscription from her mother… but no Ana.” He sipped the brew slowly, careful of the heat.
“She didn’t go into something else? Another book, a photograph? Your fish?” She nodded her head toward Sushi’s tank.
He almost smiled. “No. She just faded away. I can feel her absence. I can’t explain it, but it feels like there’s something missing, like I’m standing in front of a crowd of people and my zipper is undone. There’s something wrong, but I just can’t pinpoint it until someone glances down at my crotch and then I can feel the breeze. Except that there’s no breeze here. She’s gone.” He stared at the floor.
“Like Uncle said, she shouldn’t have been here in the first place. That book wasn’t a place of safety for her; it was chains and a prison. She’s free now. She should have moved on a long time ago. Maybe your last words to her were brief, but you gave her the greatest gift you ever could—your heart. She’s gone where she’s supposed to be, and you helped with that. You can spend the rest of your life—”
“My short life.”
She slapped his leg reproachfully, but left her hand there. “The rest of your life beating yourself up, but in the end you woke her up and loved her. You gave her the chance to have happy memories close off her existence here before moving on. You gave her a chance to fulfil her destiny and put old sins to rest.”
Jerry put the cup on the saucer and placed his free hand on top of Mika’s. “Thank you.” He squeezed her hand gently and smiled at her. For the first time, he noticed bright green flecks in the light brown of her eyes. Then she leaned in and kissed him on the forehead, before standing up and letting him have his hand back. “You’re leaving?”