Mint Smoke

preface

“Your hair is fading."

"Really? Well I guess I'm dying it back to blue." I shot my girlfriend a smirk, she smiled without her bright teeh flashing underneath her fleshy lips. She simply loved my hair in its blue state of color, but I dyed it almost a month ago, some seaweed green.

I held her frail hand in mine. Her touch was as cold as a bitter winter night and her heart was beating ever so slowly. “Jenna Madison Damon I love you.”

The beautiful blush that naturally surged her cheeks had been drained and her lips looked puffed out and blood red and chapped. She inhaled causing a wheezy like sound to break the silent room. “Mikey, I love you too.”Her voice was soft and far away like she’d been taking hits off a joint.  Her hand caressed my burning cheek. Her brown eyes were dull. I always was a sucker for her brown eyes, they were like melted Hershey drops.

I leaned closer and pursed my lips softly on top of her hairless head. She pushed me away weakly. She hated any attention that went to her head and I understand why. Anyone who knew here before the cancer treatment understood why. She had silky gold strands cascading down her back and it fanned around her face so perfectly, it was like the perfect picture and the perfect frame. They complemented each other.

I felt a tight squeeze on my shoulder and Mr. and Mrs. Damon stood soberly behind me. When Jenna and I started dating they hated me, well they hated my ever changing hair hue and overly tight jeans, but what can I say Jenna loves it all, that’s why I love her. When everyone else saw a toad with ridiculous choice in hair dye she saw a prince. But if I do say so myself they’ve warmed up to me since Jenna’s condition.

I clasped his rugged hand and left with a squeeze. We usually liked to do visiting time separately since they always felt uncomfortable with their daughter professing their love to a punk ass kid.

The hall was buzzing away nosily as mother’s tied desperately to calm their crying babies and nurses trying to, well, nurse people. I took long steady steps to the isolated area for smokers. I wiped out a mint flavored slim and lit it quickly before balancing on my lips. As I took a deep inhale it sent a minty prickle gushed through my lungs, I pushed a small cloud of smoke out of my lips before coughing and laughing at the same time. Jenna loves these cigarettes, if anything they’re the reason we met.

I was in need of gas and a pack of Marlboro and it so happened that Jenna was manning the station that fateful day. I opted for the usual ones I smoke, but Jenna scoffed and began to explain how she doesn’t smoke but she simply loves the stench of minty cigarettes. Once I laid my eyes on her I was mesmerized. She was beautiful and so loud and open and friendly. I tried to seem cool and so I leaned closer and asked for a pack of mint and a pack of vanilla since those were the only flavors in my vision range.

She quickly turned her nose in disgust, “Really? Are you sure? Vanilla is SO disgusting.” Her voice had this valley girl hint to it, despite me never hearing one before. But if I had I’m pretty sure it’d sound like her voice.

I laughed and shook my head, “I was joking! I hate vanilla.”

She smiled at me as she looked down at the register and totted up the amount. As I walked out the station I realized that she had written her number in scrawny penmanship on the receipt and it didn’t take long for me to call her and the rest is history.

My gaze scanned the horizon and I noticed a group of nurses running rapidly, franticly like chickens with no heads. I took one last puff and threw the remainder of the bud. I stepped out into the fluorescent hall and saw the nurses make a bee line for the cancer section. My breath caught and my heart dropped.

Please don’t turn left. Please don’t turn left. God I’m begging you please don’t turn left. I chanted inside my head over and over.

Sure enough they turned left and before I could regulate my breathing my legs picked up and I was running down the hall trying to make the left turn as quickly as I could. I shoved past adults, past kids, even past nurses. It’s safe to say that I knocked out a person’s IV stand which I am incredibly guilty about. But at that moment nothing mattered except the fact that I needed to be in Jenna’s room, all become blurry except for her room.

I reached the room breathless and sweaty as if I had just eaten a dozen chili peppers. The bustling nurses were immobile and Mr. and Mrs. Damon were huddled into each other like rollie pollies. I pushed past them and stared down at her finally peaceful face. Her porcelain skin had turned a sad graying color and her eye lids shielded what was left of her Hershey drops.

My mouth gaped open but nothing came out until finally a creak broke free, “Is she-is she gone?”

Mrs. Damon’s howling screams were more than an answer enough for me. I felt my knees connect to the floor immediately and hard. I was crying. The tears poured out of my eyes, it was the day we talked about but never really did. She tried to address it before about how I’d cope once she was gone, but I held onto the belief that they’d save her or say it was all a horrible twisted joke. I felt the, surprisingly, comfortable pat of Jenna’s parents as they tried to comfort me and instantly I felt selfish. They’re the ones who lost a daughter, they’re the ones who lost the most valuable thing in their life, but then again I lost more than my girlfriend. I lost my best friend, my lover, my sunshine, but most of all I lost a piece of me that I will never get back.

And that’s when the steak burrito I had eaten a couple hours ago made its way back up and onto the floor.

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