To Love Yin and Yang

Chapter 12

We talked, reminisced and laughed long into the evening. Stories of past adventures were shared and we discussed and debated aspects such as morality, politics and even touched on religion. It was fascinating spending time with them and listening to their view of the world. However as the evening began to turn toward night they bid me a good night and headed off. They didn't say where they were going or what they were going to do, but I didn't feel the need to know either.

Instead of being a good girl and going to bed, I instead went up to my studio and continued to work on my latest piece. After a few hours I was too exhausted to continue so I went to bed. The next morning I tried to make coffee but when it wasn't anywhere near as nice as what the brothers had produced, I chucked it and made tea instead. Relaxing in the morning rays I sipped my tea and enjoyed the silence while my mind slowly cleared itself of sleep fog.

A loud, sharp ringing bounced off the walls and in shock I dropped my mug shattering it and being the clutz that I am, I then stepped on the shards. I yelped in pain and desperately reached for my phone to see what the hell was going on. The caller-Id told me it was Donnie so I answered with a forced good morning. He chuckled and informed me that he was coming to collect me for a game of capture the flag they all played on the first Sunday of the month. I forced myself to be courteous... to not allow my pain to control my actions or words.

When we hung up I limped my way to my bathroom and began to remove the pieces of shattered ceramic from my foot. Once it was free of shards and cleaned, I bandaged it as best I could. Still limping slightly I began to clean up the mess from my spilled tea. A polite knock came just before the door to my apartment was opened. Donnie came through and I looked up from my cleaning. "What the hell happened? There's blood everywhere," he exclaimed in alarm. I let out a frustrated sigh, and stood from where I was scrubbing a bloody footprint. Pointing to my foot I explained in a very annoyed tone what had happened. He began to chuckle which soon turned to us both laughing.

When we calmed down he began to help me clean up. He then had me sit down so he could examine my foot himself. Despite my best efforts to assure him I was fine, he stubbornly refused to listen. In defeat I threw myself into one of my armchairs and held my foot out to him. Gingerly he unwrapped the bandage and began to examine the cuts and lacerations. He didn't say much, but would sometimes change lenses on his glasses. After a few moments he looked up and said that two of the cuts were long and deep enough to need stitches. He went to the van to get some medical supplies while I went to my bar for a stiff drink.

When he saw me pouring an extremely generous amount of alcohol in a glass, he rushed over and said it wasn't necessary, that he would sedate the area with a local sedative. I smiled at him, downed the glass and closed my eyes as I felt the burn spread from my throat, to my stomach and out through my whole body. "Sedative doesn't work on demons of the mind Donnie," I explained as I felt the alcohol muddle my mind just enough for me to allow Donnie to stitch up my foot.

I hobbled back to my armchair and sat down. Still unnerved by needing medical attention, memories from past instances tried to intrude. The alcohol made it easier for me to close my eyes and speak nonsense with Donnie. He spoke back and I almost thought we were carrying a conversation as he stitched. I felt no pain so the anesthetic worked very quickly and well apparently.

After a short while he put my foot down and said something I didn't catch. I used a breathing exercise I had learned a few years ago to clear my mind and when it was as clear as it was going to be with the alcohol still muddling my thoughts slightly, I opened my eyes and looked into his concerned gaze. I smiled at him, showing a mixture of embarrassment and weakness. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the aura Donnie had, but I had never allowed anyone to see even a hint of weakness in me... yet here I was consciously allowing him to see it in me. "I have more than a few memories of medical procedures that have meant a lot of pain," I began to explain. He took a breath and was about to tell me that he would never cause harm, or so I assumed, but I held my hand up so I could finish. "I know logically that you wouldn't cause me pain, but fear doesn't care about logic," I finished and began stand.