by K. S. Adkins
“Let’s go,” he says reaching for my elbow.
“Wait, what?”
“I’m driving you home,” he says pulling me away from my bench. Resisting him didn’t work; he just did the man thing and overpowered me. “I’m not asking for permission, Time.”
“If I get a bill from my insurance for this I’m sending it to you,” I warn him while he slides his hand from my elbow down to my… “What are you doing? I can walk.”
“Yeah well, I don’t want to get sued if you fall on my property. Just do me a favor and hold my hand until we get to my car.”
For some reason I couldn’t stop staring at our linked fingers and because of that, I did trip over some uneven pavement but it had nothing to do with my failing sight. It’s been a long time since I’ve held anyone’s hand and I wanted to remember what it looked like. And when I look back on this I’ll remember what it felt like too. “See? You should be thanking me,” he says smiling down at me.
“No one likes a show off, Doc.”
“Drum,” he says opening my door and then backing me into it. “I want you to call me Drum.”
“I thought doctors spent a lot of money to be called doctors?”
Leaning in, he gives me a half-smile before saying, “They do, but when you address me I want to hear my name.” Before my knees could buckle from his sexy voice he tucks me into the car before shutting the door and heading to his own. Giving him my address, I stay quiet until we get there. I may not like anyone giving me pity but I wasn’t sold on the idea of my doctor getting up close and personal either. Bottom line, this was the man that was going to help me transition from the seeing world into the void. Forming any kind of attachment to him was dangerous.
For me.
“Nice place,” he says cutting the engine.
“Thanks,” I mumble. “It’s the only place I’ve ever lived.”
“If I asked you what you’re thinking about would you tell me the truth?”
Looking over at him, I couldn’t help but tell the truth. “I feel like a part of me is dying. Every day I’m forced to give another piece away only I don’t get to choose which piece that is. There was so much I wanted to do, see. I had plans…”
“Name something,” he says facing me as well. God he was an image I’d remember always. Black hair like a raven’s wing, espresso colored eyes with flecks of jade and perfect nude lips. He had a few years on me, each served him well. He was a big guy, broad, I guess, but he wasn’t jacked or obnoxious about it. He was just a good looking guy with a few extra pounds on him which I really liked. I’ve dated the gym freaks, even a guy on roids once and let me say his commitment to getting shredded scared shit out of me. The doc was a normal guy and I really liked the box he came in. Original packaging, who knew it still existed? “Time,” he says touching my face which brings me back to the present. I was in so much trouble… “Tell me something you wanted to do.”
“I wanted to see a waterfall,” I blurt. “A loud one with tropical plants surrounding it. I wanted to be brave enough to climb up the side and jump in. To swim in the pool below it with the fish biting my toes.”
“I’m so fucking sorry this is happening to you,” he says with a sincerity that soothes me.
“It’s okay,” I tell him needing to wrap this up so I could go inside to cry alone. “I’ve lived my life in Technicolor, I’ll have some amazing memories and besides, I dream in color.” Then, like someone hit the panic button I grabbed his hand and close to hysterics, I asked him, “I’ll still dream in color right? I won’t lose that, will I?”
Reaching up and touching my head he says, “Your dreams will always have color, Time. That process takes place back here.” Giving me a light tap to show me where my dreams are made and that settled me enough to get out of the car.
“Thanks, Drum,” Get out of the car, Time. you pathetic twit. “I’ll see you—”
“Have dinner with me,” he says quickly. Then he literally flies out of the driver’s side door and over to mine helping me out. With him pinning me in, he shakes his head and starts over. “Please,” he says slowly. “Have dinner with me.”
“When?” I mean a girl has to eat…
“Now?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Do you have food?” oh hell, he has great teeth...
“Do you like—”
“I love it,” he says pulling me up my walk, straight up to the porch where he was buzzing with excitement that I didn’t understand. Without thought, I use the keypad letting us both inside. Using the remote on the wall, I light up the rooms as needed but when I turn to take his coat, he hadn’t moved an inch.
“Drum?”
“You did all of this, didn’t you?” his eyes were wide as he scanned the room. Although we just met I had a feeling this man was going to be important to me (you know, as my doctor) so I had no reason to hide.
“For a long time, I was saving my money for travel. I had so many places to see and memories to make. But little by little I noticed I was losing my freedom,” I tell him while coming to his side. “I didn’t know the loss had a medical name at the time, but I decided to make the inside the very images of what I knew I was missing outside. My house became the adventures I’d never see.”
“There’s the waterfall,” he says pointing to the staircase I painted last summer. “Which mountain is that?”
“Mount Blackburn,” I say proudly. “It’s the twelfth highest peak in North America.”
“Explain this to me,” he says pulling me to face the dining room wall. Man, he was bossy. “I like tulips, specifically yellow. Well, buttercream, I guess. Up in Holland, they have a tulip festival each May and from what I’ve seen in pictures, it’s breathtaking.”
Heading into the kitchen, I offer him a seat but he doesn’t take it. Instead he looks around then whistles when he notices the ceiling. “Okay, that’s wicked.”
“I have a thing for lightning,” I admit then dump the turkey in the pan. He needed to leave; he was too interested in the going-blind girl. He was freaking me out.
“Let me help,” he says mixing the sauce and starting the noodles.
“Is driving your patients home and helping them make dinner a service you provide? I don’t remember seeing it on your website.” Honestly, watching him move around my kitchen made me uncomfortable because, I liked it.
“No,” he says bluntly, almost defiantly. “You’re the first.”
“Why am I the first? Why am I anything to you?”
“You’re…different.”
“Because I’m going blind?”
“Hardly,” he corrects. “You see more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life.”
“You’ve known me an hour and a half,” I remind him. “I could be a great actress.”
“You aren’t acting, Time.”
“I have to say, I’m not sure what to think of you right now.”
“Funny,” he says reaching for the parmesan. “For once I’m not thinking and I like how it feels. I like how being near you feels. Now shut up and hand me the strainer.”
Sticking my arm out, he takes it and pours the noodles in. “Hang on, did you just tell me to shut up?”
“The look on your face says kick him out, but your body wants sex on the counter. Quit thinking so hard and help me finish dinner. We’ll only break in the table if you ask nicely.”
After the shock wore off I started to laugh. When he winked at me, I laughed even louder. Okay, so he’s funny and a flirt too. It made it easier to forget he was my doctor.
With dinner done, we settled on the couch with a nice bottle of red. It seemed like he wanted to know everything about me while sharing very little of himself. And because I’m nosey, I asked him why.
“Not much to tell,” he says refilling my glass. “Typical rich kid scenario. Private school, where I played rugby and hated it. Medical school with a residency set up by my father. Finally, my own practice so he’d leave me alone
. Perpetually single because I can’t stand the women associated with that world and I refuse to marry plastic to make him happy. So in comparison to you, Time, I lead a very shallow and unfulfilling life.”
“Hang on,” is this guy for real? Would he like my underwear now or later? “You operate on the human eye right?”
“I do.”
“The most delicate part of a person, the window to their soul... People trust you with their sight, Drum. I’m trusting you with what I have left of it. You’re not just my doctor, you’re my only hope.”
“Time,” he says closing his eyes. “It kills me that I can’t help you. None of my training can fix this.”
“I don’t need to be fixed,” I remind him. “What I need to do is face reality and I’ve done a bang up job of ignoring it for a really long time.”
“From where I’m sitting, you are years ahead of most people in your position, you’re an inspiration, Time. Do you have a support system? Please tell me you haven’t been facing this alone.”
I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but right then nothing could stop me from doing it. “I need to show you something in my bedroom,” then groaning, I shake my head to start over. “What I meant was, I created something I’d like to share with you that just happens to be located in my bedroom.”
“Time,” he says with a wicked smile.
“What?”
“You had me at bedroom.”
I didn’t need all of my sight to know I was in some seriously deep shit.
Man she had a nice ass.
Watching it rise and fall with her steps was likely one of the reasons women in my social circle hated me. Well that, and because I hated them first, I was very vocal about it too. With their fake faces, gossip circles, lawn boys and nannies. No one in my life lived authentically, not even I did. I was probably the worst of the lot because I was a fraud, even my father knew it. I was the doctor who wasn’t a doctor.
God, I loathed my upbringing and my life to date.
But Time, she had none of that yet had created something inspiring here. Her home wasn’t just where she slept, but it was her safe haven. Walls she knew and felt comfortable behind. Now, following her down the hallway that were untouched canvases for her, it killed me to know that one day she wouldn’t have this anymore. When that day did come, unless she had a support system, she couldn’t live here alone.
Opening the door she goes to the right for the remote and bathes the room in soft light. With her hand on my back she leads me over to her bed. “Lay down,” she instructs quietly and hoping she didn’t see my hard on, I did. Then I remembered her failing sight and chided myself for being an asshole.
“Close your eyes,” she says climbing in next to me. I wanted to roll over on her or, pull her on top of me, Christ anything… “Drum, your eyes.” I didn’t want to because if I did I wouldn’t see her anymore. I met her this afternoon and already the thought of not seeing her was fucking with me. Yet here she was, preparing for a life of darkness with a smile on her face. Most of all, she was preparing to do it alone and I realized that I didn’t want her to.
Finally closing them, I felt her hand slide into mine and sucked in a breath. Her hand in mine was the next best thing to seeing her. Lying there side by side I listen to her soft breathing then swore I heard thunder, rain pelting the windows and even an owl followed by crickets. No seriously, I heard the crickets.
“Open your eyes, Drum.”
When I did my entire view of the world changed. It changed because I was seeing the world through her eyes. The stars were bold and bright, the moon far off in the distance. We were inside of a tree house built for two where maple trees encompassed us. With each blink of my eyes, I saw something new and I found that owl after several minutes of searching. As the sounds of night surrounded us, Time was silent.
She was at peace.
A peace she created.
“How?”
With a smile she squeezes my hand and says, “Night time was the first real loss for me. I haven’t been able to see it for a while now, I did this so I would never forget what I loved about it. At least until I can’t see this anymore either, but I’ll always be able to listen and I’m counting on my hearing to pick up the slack.”
I had nothing to say because I was so God damned humbled my throat was burning. I treated patients like her for a living but I never knew…Fuck, I let every patient before her down.
“I used special paints,” she explains. “Similar to glow in the dark but I mixed them to suit me. And you heard the background noise, I ordered that online. I’m pretty sure it was intended to help babies sleep, but it helps me too. The company that makes them created it specifically for me, based on my favorite sounds. You’re the only one who has or ever will, see this.”
“Time,” I whisper pulling her a little closer. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
She was quiet for some time before she spoke again. “Drum?”
“Yeah?”
With just a hint of despair she whispers, “I’m going to miss this.”
“I’ll do everything I can to help you,” I vow to her.
“What happens when everything isn’t enough?”
“I’ll be there to hold your hand.”
My declaration caught her off guard, it also made her uneasy. Honestly, I couldn’t blame her considering shit was flying out of my mouth before I could stop it. Add to that I’m lying on a patient’s bed I met only hours ago. Yeah, I couldn’t blame her a bit but, I still wasn’t slowing this down.
Turning to face me I saw her throw a wall up, but in my mind I already had an answer for whatever she could possibly throw at me. Time was quick-witted, but I was quicker. “For a doctor who is supposed to look at his patients with a clinical eye, you’re missing the mark.”
“I have it on good authority that I’m not a real doctor but you’re right. The way I’m looking at you is far from clinical.”
Slowly sitting up, she takes her hand back and leaves the room. Following her downstairs, I find her waiting by the front door with her hand on the knob. The look of finality on her face scared me into action. “Thank you for driving me home and for your company,” she says opening it. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Oh hell no, she was kicking me out. If I left she wouldn’t come back to the office, they never do. “Why are you doing this?”
“I can’t afford to care about you,” she whispers while staring down at her feet. “Look around you, Drum. I’m a prisoner in my own home. One day I won’t even have this and that’s hard enough. To invest my feelings knowing one day I won’t be able to see you too? It’s too much for me.”
“I’ll remind you,” I promise her. “Every day if I have to. I’ll—”
“You don’t know me!” she yells and when she looks up, I see her fear, all of it. So strong I could taste it. It was bitter and heavy. Time wasn’t nearly as okay with this as she pretended to be. “You can’t fix me, this is happening, Drum. There’s no stopping it, and trust me, you do not want to be near me when it does.”
Yanking her away from the door and into my arms, I take her mouth to shut her up. At first she was shocked, but instead of fighting me, she gave it back to me tenfold. Breaking the kiss, I take her face in my hands and meet her eye to eye. “This is happening,” I inform her. “Forget about the future and focus on living right now. The blindness is inevitable but guess what, Time?”
“What?” she whispers fighting the tears.
“So are we.”
Last night after Drum left (pouting) I fired up my computer and spent hours creeping on him. The good news was he wasn’t a serial killer, had no dating profile (I checked all of them) and wasn’t sitting on millions of dollars in malpractice suits either. He didn’t use social media and his office had one website.
Dr. Drummond Green by Google results was simply a respected ophthalmologist. A very single ophthalmologist. Good looking people were single for many reasons; I mean
I was single because dating gave me hives. Everyone has a reason but Drum was a freaking doctor. No, he wasn’t going to grace the cover of Muscle & Fitness but he was extremely attractive to me. I liked that he was big but not bulky. He looked like a man’s man. One that took care of himself but didn’t live at the gym. If he was hungry he ate it, he didn’t put his meal on a scale because it was a waste of time. As for me, I was average in the looks department on a good day. My hair was wild and since I couldn’t decide on one color, I just threw them all in there. Lately, my clothes didn’t match and I rarely wore make up because I ended up looking like a circus performer. Basically, I had a nice set of tits and a perky ass going for me. Let’s not forget the little fact that I’m already visually impaired…
But he didn’t look at me like that. He hadn’t from the second he walked into his office and certainly not when he was on my bed. But I meant it, I couldn’t get attached to him. Sure, my glowing personality was hard to resist, but I was also on my best behavior. It’s not every day your doctor takes you home and helps you make dinner, I had to act like an adult.
Then he went and kissed me. Holy shit, can the man kiss. This is happening, he’d said. And if my head wasn’t already having trouble figuring out what that meant he said, the blindness is inevitable but guess what, so are we... Who was this guy?
Needless to say I didn’t sleep well last night and all day today I’ve been useless. His name, like the instrument, bangs around in my head. I wanted his mouth all over me; I wanted him to come over for dinner but stay for breakfast. There would be no humping my doctor, no matter how much my entire being rejoiced at the idea. It was unprofessional, it was too risky, but I knew it was like he said…inevitable.
Shit.
Now I’m sitting on the bus next to a man that smells like goat cheese. Drum was probably eating caviar at a country club with a hot towel on his forehead. It could never work. When I arrived at my stop, I waved goodbye to Stan (he sees me a lot) and walked the three blocks up to Cadieux Café. Heading in, I find the usual group and spend the next half hour fighting over teams. The crew I met up with; a mix of vets, retirees and hipsters. Every week I wait for them to crack a joke over the team that picks me, but it never comes. One look at me and you know I struggled to play, it was evident every time I rolled the ball. So even though I never voiced it, I appreciated their enthusiasm when picking teams. Because they always made it a point to fight over me which was sweet considering I caused more injuries than points.
