Art Entwined In Blood

11 - A Day In The Life

   "Today should be a great day; sunny skies, a few clouds here and there, but it should be a fantastic day for a nice walk or a picnic..."

     "So today should be good, huh?"

     "For Jersey? Jesus, someone must've sacrificed virgins last night."

     Frank dragged his palms up and down his face, trying to wake himself up. Jamia had brought him a cup of coffee to help.

     "Any plans for the day?"

   Frank shook his head lightly, eyeing the television through cracks in his fingers. He exhaled obnoxiously and ended with a series of mumbled words.

     "What was that?"

     "I said, I'll probably just call up the guys and have a few drinks."

     "Now you be careful. Last time, you-"

    "Last time I drank, I was stupid and went driving, and ended up in a coma. I know, Jamia," he dropped his hands into his lap, and looked at her with the best puppy face he could muster, "I'll be careful this time, I promise."

     She chuckled, "With all the adoption papers I saw on the table when I woke up, you better step up your game."

     "You mean...," he trailed, a smile stretching to both of his ears.

     Jamia nodded just as Frank rushed up to her, snatched her from her spot on the couch, and spun her around the room.

     "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he repeated, burying muffled kisses in her dark brown hair.

     "I've always wanted a dog! Always!"

      "I know, I know!" she laughed dryly, remembering who actually paid for the adoption.

     "I gotta go tell the guys about this!" he exclaimed, grabbing his tan jacket off of a dining room chair, "I'll be back!"

     Frank jumped down the five steps on his porch and stumbled on his feet, almost falling into a man walking in front of him. He quickly looked up at the man and apologized, stopping to look into his eyes that seemed only half alive. Apologizing again, slightly taken aback by the man's appearance, Frank jogged to Bert's house, where he knew the rest of his friends were there talking about some office gossip that was too risky to actually say by the drinking fountain. The man, however, sighed slowly through his nose and tapped the sidewalk with his cane. He mumbled a few words, which no one really could have understood, and brushed his hair out of his face. He looked off towards the big mansion at the end of the street. Jamia walked up to the man, and rested one hand on his shoulder while keeping a blanket wrapped around her torso with the other.

     "Thank you for the puppy, Gerard. Frank's really excited about it."

     "I knew he would be. He always seemed like a dog person."

     There was a small pause, neither of them breaking their gazes on the house.

     "I'm sorry you had to do that to him."

     Gerard turned, "Do what?"

     "You know. Blank his memory. I know you were really close with him. You two were like best friends."

     "Ah," he turned to face the house again, "Well it definitely was not something I intended on doing. He interfered a bit and didn't listen. I just-"

     His words were cut off by a feeling of sorrow; his voice had started to crack. A tear rolled down his cheek.

     "I just wanted his love."

     Jamia dropped the blanket she was holding and wrapped Gerard in a tight hug. His eyes widened, his brain not knowing what to do. His hands went numb, dropping his cane to the gray pavement. Reluctantly, more tears were released, his face turning a light shade of pink, almost like a spring rose. His arms slowly wrapped around Jamia, hugging her only half as tight as she was clutching him.

     "I know, Gerard. I know."

----------

     "I can't believe you didn't tell me, man!"

     Ray paced furiously across Bert's strictly grunge carpet, his bare feet hopping slightly every now and again to avoid stepping on an old slice of pizza. After three or four rounds, he would stop, look at Frank, exhale loudly from his nostrils like a bull, then continue pacing to continue his pattern. Pete sat on the arm of a battered couch, where he usually sat, a bottle of distilled wheat in his hand. Alex was leaned back, sunken into the cushions with Bob resting his feet on Alex's thighs. Bert was on the floor with a cigarette hanging from his lips, his ragged hair almost down to his mid chest. They all either watched Ray over exaggerate or Frank's sulking face. Sometimes their gazes would switch when the other would do something out of pattern.

     "Don't you remember that class we took once? It specifically told us that you should not drink and drive. I mean, everyone knows that! You learn when you're a little kid! But then to do it, get in a coma, and not tell us about it? Jesus, Frank!"

     "Hey I told you I'm sorry man."

     "Sorry doesn't cut it this time, Frank. You need to be more careful. Fuck, I'm surprised you know who we are."

     "I've noticed that, actually. I remember a lot of stuff, like who people are, what they do. I remember my whole life up to a month ago."

     Ray's eyes widened, then dropped. His anger seemed to evaporate, almost in a visible vapor.

     "Yeah, that's pretty crazy man. I'm actually gonna order some pizza. What does everyone want?"