I Remember You

by Joyce Armor

  This was going to be terrible. She never wanted to hurt him. She should never have looked him up. Oh, Brian.

  * * *

  At that moment, Russell, still in costume, was browbeating his cab driver to go even faster. He tapped the cabbie, and not gently, on his shoulder. “Aziz, there’s an extra twenty in it for you if you get me there in less than 10 minutes.”

  Aziz locked eyes with him in the rearview mirror. “Twenty, Sahib?”

  “Did I say twenty? I meant fifty. Floor it, buddy.”

  The cabbie floored it so quickly that Russell had to grab the back of the headrest to keep from landing in the cabbie’s lap. He must be out of his freakin’ mind. Honestly, did Muskman have so much trouble with Penelope? And what, exactly, was he planning to do when he got to the chapel? Yeah, he’d think of that when the time came. If Aziz couldn’t get this crate moving any faster, it might be a moot point. He sat back and willed his mind and heartbeat to slow down to manageable levels. This was crazy. Absolutely insane. And he knew down to his very being that he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t at least try to get there in time.

  “Faster, Aziz.”

  * * *

  Back in the chapel, Brian and Ellie sat in the last pew. He looked at her for so long and so kindly, she fought the urge to squirm. That is, if she couldn’t just disappear. He looked so…so…so Brian in his tux: cool, stylish and handsome as if he had just walked off a page of “Gentleman’s Quarterly.”

  “You look just like that first day you sat down at my 21 table.”

  “I wish.”

  But in reality she didn’t wish to be that same innocent young girl. In that moment she understood, to the depths of her soul, that she truly had grown and changed. It wasn’t all about immediate gratification anymore and she wouldn’t be invisible anymore. She would engage, object, argue if she had to—well, she had never had much trouble with that—and lay it all out there. Thatta girl. Easier said than done, of course, but she would try. That was the goal anyway.

  “I can’t tell you how much these last few days have meant to me, Ellie. Even though we didn’t…”

  “…No, we didn’t, did we?”

  * * *

  The taxi was now bogged down in traffic. Was the whole world conspiring against him? Hopefully Ellie had gotten caught in traffic, too. Before his head shot through the roof in his current state of agitation, Russell ordered Aziz to stop. He jumped out of the cab, leaned into the window to toss the cooperative driver some bills, including the extra fifty, then took off at a dead run. The sight of Muskman sprinting down the street amidst astonishment and cheers from pedestrians caused more of a traffic jam than ever, with cars honking and people shouting. One cop looked like he was about to pull out the handcuffs.

  Russell couldn’t help feeling that he was in a comic book story as he leaped over an Australian shepherd lying on the sidewalk in front of a jewelry store and dodged two elderly women who grinned at him as he passed. God, he loved Las Vegas. Not to live here, maybe, but what a fabulous place to visit. And play. He was actually playing Las Vegas. What a trip.

  And trip is what he did over a patch of uneven sidewalk, but he righted himself before falling and leaped over a giant flowerpot. Too bad Muskman couldn’t fly. He was on a roll. I’m coming, Penelope!

  * * *

  At the Little Chapel of the Desert, Brian placed his hand on Ellie’s. What should have felt comforting gave her a feeling of absolute dread instead. Better to get it over with. No, better to hear what’s on his mind first. That would only be polite. Chicken.

  “Whatever you want to say, Brian, just say it.”

  Make that craven, yellow-bellied coward. Still. Once again, she and Head Voice were in complete and utter agreement. She was so focused on Brian, watching intently as he removed his hand, she didn’t even see Cindy until she was standing in the aisle right next to them. Dressed like a bride. A beautiful bride. The side of Ellie’s brain that was still functioning was surprised at that. She thought people who got married in Vegas chapels didn’t wear wedding gowns. They probably didn’t even always wear clothes. But Cindy looked stunning in a sleek, sleeveless barely off-white gown with tiny seed pearls along the bodice.

  A bride? She’s a bride? Oh, praise the Lord. Except how embarrassing. And maybe a teeny weeny bit disappointing, if you’re being honest with yourself. He didn’t want you after all.

  “Brian, it’s time. Oh, Ellie, I’m so glad you could come.”

  Ellie tried to hide her…what? Surprise? Shock? Astonishment? Relief? Teeny weeny disappointment? “Oh…yeah. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. I’m so happy for you. You make a beautiful bride.”

  Cindy smiled so widely it practically blinded her. “Thank you.”

  Brian looked at his bride with deep affection. It was obvious that her smile lit up his sky. Ellie had seen him look at her with compassion and kindness and friendship and lust, but never with quite that look bone-deep affection.

  “I’ll be right there, hon,” he smiled, and she walked off.

  She knows he needs closure, Ellie realized. Cindy was definitely a wise woman, and she was kind and understanding and smart and classy. The perfect wife for Brian. It had all been so muddled and now was so clear. What had changed? All of them, she guessed.

  “I thought we’d have more time to talk,” Brian said, kind of sadly.

  It was time to let him off the hook. She touched his forearm. She always had been a touchy kind of person. “Brian, we had what we had. Maybe it was all timing. Or lack thereof. If we were meant to be together, we would be. It wouldn’t have been so hard. It’s okay. Really. I wish you and Cindy nothing but happiness and joy. She’s a wonderful woman, and you’re great together.”

  “We are, aren’t we?”

  Ellie smiled. “Go. Go get married and have tons of children.”

  Brian stood and looked at her fondly. “You’re truly the best, Ellie. Under other circumstances…”

  “You made the right choice, and it’s not because of the casino.”

  He grinned. “You’re right. I love her. I do.”

  “Go say that in front of the minister.”

  A few minutes later, about 20 people watched the lovely bride, her veil trailing down to the floor and beyond, stand next to the oh-so-handsome, perfectly creased groom. The minister, dressed in an Elvis-like glittery one-piece blue jumpsuit, signaled the organist to stop playing the “Wedding March.”

  And mere moments after that, Russell, aka Muskman, threw open the door with a bang and rushed into the chapel.

  “…a sacred institution that is the foundation of something greater than the sum of its parts,” the minister intoned.

  Russell debated with himself for several moments and made a split-second decision.

  “And yet…” he said loudly, walking down the aisle.

  “…and yet, how well does this couple know each other? Does he love the way she walks and her smile and the way her mind works? Does his heart beat faster every time he sees her? Does the sky light up when he kisses her? Marital love should be a lifetime commitment, and we shouldn’t enter into it without…”

  That’s when Russell saw someone who looked frighteningly familiar in the fourth pew. It was Ellie, his Ellie. He looked back at the bridal couple, who had turned around to stare at him. It was obviously Brian and Cindy. Oh, shit.

  “…without…without a ringing endorsement from Muskman. Bless you, my children, and uh…go forth and multiply!”

  As he turned and strode out, one or two people applauded tentatively. Everyone else just looked confused. Ellie, sitting back in her seat, couldn’t help grinning. God, she loved him. Yes, she didn’t even need Head Voice to accuse her of it. She did love him. And if this performance was any indication, he was mighty fond of her, too.

  Twenty minutes later, Ellie was driving down the Las Vegas Strip when she spotted Muskman walking up the sidewalk, periodically stopping to sign an autograph. She slow
ed down, hit the power window button for his side and called out.

  “Hey, sailor, buy a girl a drink?”

  He stopped and she pulled over. “Whatsa matter? You run out of old boyfriends?”

  She smiled. “That was an interesting speech you delivered. I bet that’s one wedding they won’t forget.”

  Russell signed another autograph, then looked up at Ellie. “What’s a wedding without a little entertainment?” Then he started walking again, so she started driving again.

  “Would you stop?”

  He kept going. “Why should I?”

  “Because…because…who knows what passion lurks in the hearts and minds of men and especially women? Muskman knows.”

  Russell stopped, turned around and locked eyes with her.

  “You bet your ass he does.”

  “I know,” Ellie said. “Get in. Please.”

  He hesitated, then slowly approached the truck. Now she could take that step and tell him how she felt about him. She wouldn’t run from romance and love anymore. This was the moment of truth. So naturally, just as he got into the truck, her cell phone rang. She would have liked to ignore it, but there was just too much going on with the comic and everything else, and Toni and Rob had traveled all the way here on their own dime to help her out. She grabbed the phone from her purse and answered the call. “Hey, Bonnie.” As she listened, her jaw dropped and her face paled. “Oh, no. What hospital?”

  Russell watched her, concerned. Had Sludge attacked Roger or Spencer? Was somebody in an accident?

  “Russell and I are on our way.” She hung up.

  He grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “What?”

  “It’s Roger. They think he had a heart attack.”

  “Oh, no.” He squeezed her hand. “Do you know where the hospital is?”

  “Yeah, I used to live here, remember?” She took her hand back, despite how good it felt holding his hand, and carefully pulled out into traffic.

  Russell studied her profile for a few moments. “He was never right for you, you know.”

  That kind of annoyed Ellie. “You don’t even know him.”

  “Yes I do. He’s one of those guys that looks good on paper.”

  Damn, he was reading her mind again.

  * * *

  Ellie pulled into the parking lot of the Sunrise Hospital & Medical Center, hoping she looked calmer than she felt. She was not a stranger to death, having lost her father, her beloved grandparents and a high-school friend, but Roger was such a good guy. She couldn’t bear to think of a world without the brilliant, quirky, aging hippie. The company that made Dove Bars would probably fold. As would Bonnie.

  Russell, still wearing his ridiculous Muskman costume that almost seemed like his skin by now, placed his hand over hers again and gave it a gentle squeeze. Unlike every morbid thought she’d had in her head about what lay ahead, the simple gesture brought tears to her eyes. They sat like that for a minute or two, neither of them moving or saying a word. Then she turned and looked at him.

  Seeing her eyes welling with tears nearly unmanned him, not that he ever knew exactly what that meant, like his male parts would fall off or rot or something. That made him slightly flinch, which pulled her out of her stupor or whatever it was. She looked down at their hands and then back up at his eyes.

  “Maybe you’d like to wear something a little more…” She searched for a word. “uh…comfortable?”

  He smiled. “Well, I’d be more comfortable in my t-shirt and Tarzan boxers, but I’m not sure the hospital crowd would feel the same.”

  “Oh, that’s right. That’s all you have on under that.” Why was she starting to perspire? Where’s a fan when you need one. Or a cold shower?

  “Yeah. You should know by now I feel no shame. Let’s go.”

  He opened the passenger door and slid out. She climbed out on her side and, with leaden feet, she walked with him through the parking lot. When had life become so complicated and so difficult? She had to shake her head when even here, in the hospital parking lot at 6 p.m., two guys ran up to Muskman to get his autograph. Spencer had created an iconic character and Bonnie and Russell had brought it to the masses, but it was Russell, with his whacky approach to living, who had really brought Muskman to life. Now was definitely not the time to tell this dear, slightly off-kilter man she had fallen in love with him. He would probably just think she was crazy. Nobody fell in love in two weeks, especially when they had spent much of that time arguing. Or he’d think she was feeling weak and needy. Actually, she was feeling very weak and very needy, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him.

  The visitors’ parking lot was nearly full, and they’d had to park at the far end. As they traversed the lot, she could only imagine what kind of accidents and illnesses befell visitors to Las Vegas, particularly from overindulging. Then there must be the usual variety of medical crises. Why did she feel like she was walking through molasses? When she stumbled over a curb, Russell grabbed her elbow and steadied her. Then he held her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, and walked her toward the main entrance. The facility was sparkling and very state-of-the-art, but she got the same feeling of borderline panic she felt every time she entered a hospital. Who was ever visiting there for a happy reason? People visiting the maternity ward. Ah, the voice of reason. Actually, that did cheer her up a little bit. Maybe she’d visit the maternity ward before she left.

  She was surprised at how Russell just took charge. Normally, Ellie liked to be in control, but she was content to cede power in this case. Well, in all truth, it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. She felt like she was close to losing it. She also felt like she had between here and wherever Bonnie was to get it back. She would certainly not do anything to make Bonnie feel worse, including falling apart in her presence.

  Russell led her toward the reception desk, where a woman who looked to be about 40 and supremely efficient, with slightly spikey short brunette hair and bright red lipstick, looked up and smiled.

  “Yes? Can I help you?”

  Once again, there was no apparent reaction to the fact that Russell was dressed like a semi-rodent. Gotta love Las Vegas.

  “We’re looking for a patient, Roger Neff, who was brought in within the hour…possible heart attack,” Russell explained.

  The receptionist punched several keys on her keyboard and studied her computer terminal. Then she looked back at Russell and Ellie. “They’re prepping him for surgery. There’s a waiting room on the fourth floor.” She indicated. “Follow the arrows back toward the gift shop. Just past it, the elevators will be on your right. When you get out on the fourth floor, just follow the green arrows to the waiting room.”

  They thanked her and trudged off toward the gift shop. “That’s good news, isn’t it,” Russell said, “if they’re prepping him for surgery?”

  What he didn’t say was that that meant he was still alive. Her heart caught in her throat. She nodded, hoping they weren’t just grasping at straws. How many times did people go through similar scenarios in their lives? She looked at Russell. Thank God you’re not going through this alone.

  Ellie felt almost claustrophobic in the elevator, vacillating between wanting to scream, needing to cry and yearning to grab Russell and kiss his socks off. You elevator slut.

  “Extreme stress,” she mumbled.

  “Yeah, it is that,” he said, drawing her to his side.

  She just shook her head and tried not to look at his bedroom eyes. Bedroom eyes? What the hell are those, queen-size eyes? You truly are losing it.

  Thankfully, the elevator doors opened and she was saved from having to argue with that nasty little Head Voice in front of Russell. They followed the green arrows, turning left toward the waiting room, where Spencer sat in one of a row of green chairs, calmly nursing a Styrofoam cup of coffee, and Bonnie paced. She looked up when they approached and smiled so sadly that Russell rushed over and hugged her. Ellie was a little ashamed that she hadn’t
beaten him to it. Of course, she would have had to elbow him out of the way to do it. And she felt just a teensy bit of jealousy at the way Bonnie glommed onto Russell’s hairy personage, which was beyond ridiculous. Bonnie was a one-man woman if ever there was one. And she was old enough to be his mother. But then Tiffy and Spencer are getting it on.

  After a few moments, during which Ellie tried to ignore Head Voice, Russell stepped back. “It’s going to be okay. I can feel it.”

  Now who’s the cheerful elf?

  “I can, too,” Ellie said as she hugged Bonnie. She stepped back but grabbed Bonnie’s hands. “Tell us. What happened?”

  Bonnie closed her eyes, as if gathering her thoughts. Then she nodded toward the vacant green chairs. As they sat, she smoothed her denim skirt, picking off a little white thread and studying it as if it held the key to the universe. Finally, she sighed and turned to Russell and Ellie.

  “About a month ago, Roger starting feeling out of breath when he was climbing stairs or doing anything strenuous. He didn’t tell me at first—you know how men are—but it didn’t take me long to figure it out.”

  Ellie and Russell exchanged a look. This was not a one-time occurrence then. Spencer had obviously already heard the story. He was watching the news on TV.

  “Of course, he would rather wear a tie than go to the doctor, but when it began to impinge on our sex life, he saw the light.”

  Okay, too much information.

  “It turned out he had heart blockage, so we knew he needed surgery.”

  Now they were starting to look at her like she was off her rocker.

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know, I know, he should have had the surgery right away, but he had had the symptoms for several months and was convinced he could get through the convention and then have the surgery. It was scheduled for next week.”