Possibility Days

by Mary Ramsey

  “No not everything,” I said through gritted teeth. “No part of your story included Remy living in Lana’s house.”

  “He’s only been here for a few days, and he’ll be gone before you come back. Are you still in Japan?”

  “Yeah, but not for much longer.” I wanted this conversation to end. For now, I would assume Remy didn’t spend every waking moment flirting with Sara. Maybe he was looking for a job, or just passing through. “Shauna, say bye-bye.”

  “Bye-bye Johnny. Bye Remy,” she said sweetly.

  I waved to Johnny just before he cut the connection.

  London turned to me. “Now that’s out of the way, were you serious about separating? Can you go it alone?”

  Jen reappeared. “Yes, he was, and he can. After all, you’re the one who always says how much of a star Sean is.”

  “Are you up for taking care of him?”

  While I cringed at London’s choice of words, Jen just stared. “Am I up for taking care of my husband?”

  “You already seem to have your hands full taking care of Shauna.”

  Jen’s eyes became slits. “I’m going to go pack before I say something I wouldn’t want my daughter to repeat.”

  My family and I left Japan, headed to Thailand, and then to Vietnam. Jen became more affectionate as we went places as a family. Soon life felt like a vacation again. Three months turned into five. I was convinced I could ration my medications. I had prescriptions for everything—it was only a matter of what I could afford to refill paying out of pocket.

  “We could ask London to wire us some money,” Jen suggested, seeing how little I had chosen to get refilled from the local pharmacy.

  “I’m fine,” I assured her. “They just didn’t have a lot.” We were in Ho Chi Minh City, the largest city in Vietnam, my last chance to refill before my auditions in Tahiti, where the local pharmacies would likely have even less.

  In January, Shauna turned five in Pape’ete. I was a part of a shoot starring Olivia Heart, a supermodel in her forties—an iconic brunette with legs for years. She took one look at Shauna playing in the sand and squealed, “Hello, little one!”

  “It’s my birthday,” Shauna said happily.

  Olivia sat down beside her. “Aw, you’re so beautiful. Just like your daddy.”

  During the shoot Olivia modeled swimwear, interacting with her harem of five male models. It wasn’t unlike my very first shoot with London, but at least this time I stayed awake. I smiled as I looked out at the ocean. Never in my wildest dreams did I see myself making it to Tahiti. I closed my eyes and tried to picture North Dakota, my house, my school.

  I started to cough— hard. I could hear voices all around me as I fell to my knees.

  “Get this kid some water.”

  “We’re losing light! Just get him off the set …”

  Seven

  I’d been suffering from chronic fevers, but nothing worse than what I was used to. I would take my meds and try to get some sleep in between trekking to multiple auditions a day. Since time was not as plentiful as it once was, I would often skip the use of my vibration vest and nebulizer, opting only for the use of my BiPAP.

  Jen would take Shauna sightseeing, since Linda’s one piece of advice was that I should stop taking my wife and child with me to auditions. Most people were cool about it, but apparently it reeked of unprofessionalism. Since we had no vehicle while traveling abroad, I was supposed to take public transportation like any other working model. I took to wearing a painter’s mask to minimize my discomfort. My days were becoming less and less fun. But my portfolio was growing. In South Asia, I could absolutely be a star—if the heat didn’t kill me first.

  At my request, the next set of auditions took me further north to Seoul, Korea. The first was for a clothing line that aimed to tap into the American nightclub scene. Three young male designers with neon hair were looking for models who looked like they could walk into a nightclub solo and leave with a hot girl on each arm. I landed a callback.

  The next was for a fast food chain. Since the elevator was out of order, I climbed four flights of stairs to reach the studio. The casting director took one look at my sweat-covered face and matted hair, and sent me away. I could and should have checked myself in the restroom but, what with the stair climbing and coughing fit, I was already twenty minutes late.

  More than a little pissed, I sat out in the stairwell, trying to get my shit together. All I wanted was to get back to Jen and Shauna at the hotel. I stood up, took a step, then out of nowhere my legs went numb. I fell down the stairs, rolling until I smashed into the wall that separated the next flight of stairs. Jesus fuck!

  It took a moment to get my breath, and then I tried to sit up. There was a sharp pain in my wrist, which got instantly worse when I tried to move my arm. “Great, that’s just great.”

  I had a long walk back to the hotel. I stopped by a souvenir store and brought Shauna a plush doll: a chibi version of a popular anime character. And I bought myself a Korean chocolate bar that tasted like oranges. It made me feel slightly better, even as my wrist began to throb something terrible.

  Jen was back at our tiny room with its crappy shower. The television was broken and the view out the window was of an alleyway. I already decided that we would be picking our accommodation from now on, not Linda Skinflint Sharp. Worst of all, there was no ice machine.

  I collapsed onto the bed. “I hurt my wrist.” I was in pain, but more than anything I was exhausted.

  Jen lay down beside me, caressing my face. “I’m going to go to buy some ice. Shauna, take care of your daddy.”

  I repositioned myself so Shauna could rest against me. “Look what I got you.”

  Shauna giggled with delight. The doll had neon-red hair and big blue eyes.

  By the time Jen returned, I’d managed to get my BiPAP on. Shauna was asleep next to me, cuddling my back. Jen wrapped some ice in a towel for my wrist and laid a cold, wet hand towel over my forehead.

  “Thank you, Jen.”

  “I’m calling Linda.”

  “Please no,” I grumbled. “She already thinks I’m a screw-up.”

  “Well, did you get the insurance details from her?”

  I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. It was something I’d been hassling my so-called manager about, and she kept saying she’d email them across, but there was always something more important. And now everything had become an emergency. I tried to control my breathing while Jen left a message with Linda Sharp, asking her to text the policy number as soon as possible.

  Jen huffed a sigh. “I’m calling London.”

  “No way!”

  “Hey, if I can suck it up to get you some help, you sure can. Now, stay quiet while I beg.”

  I groaned. Calling London was just as embarrassing as calling Linda, if not more so. But I was in no state to argue.

  Jen put the phone on speaker. “Hello, London?”

  “Hey Jen, what’s up?”

  Her tone was flat, and I wasn’t surprised. I hadn’t contacted London for a little over a month. I posted pics to my social media accounts, and sometimes she’d comment on them, but we hadn’t held a meaningful conversation in a while. And now she was going to learn how I made an idiot of myself.

  “We’re in Seoul, and Sean’s taken a turn for the worse,” Jen explained.

  “You could always take him to the hospital.”

  “We don’t have the details of our international health insur—”

  “Not even for Shauna? That’s really irresponsible.”

  Jen’s breathing was becoming erratic, like she was moments away from hurling the phone across the room. “We’ve been fine up until now, and your mom had all the paperwork. She promised to take care of everything.”

  “Yeah, well. That’s my mom for you.”

  Jen pulled the phone from her mouth and silently counted to five. “Sean might have a broken wrist. Are you going to help us or not?”

  “I have a family friend b
ased at Seoul National University Hospital. I can ask him if he can pay a visit. Check Sean out.”

  “Thank you,” Jen said as she hung up on London. She turned to Shauna. “Did you finish your writing work?”

  “You said to take care of Daddy,” she groaned, returning to her pile of books with her new doll in hand.

  Jen took the doll from Shauna’s arms. “I will hold your new toy until you finish your workbook.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Shauna pick up a pencil and continue writing a series of giant uppercase letters. I knew there was a danger she could fall behind academically, what with so many other kids picking up their lessons in preschool, so I was grateful Jen was taking it upon herself to teach our daughter so she’d be ready for kindergarten.

  I woke to the sight of a small middle-aged Italian man with prematurely white hair, who introduced himself as Dr. Emilio. He bandaged my wrist, administering a cortisone shot for the pain.

  “That should do it.” He gathered his equipment to leave. “Mrs. Foster, may we speak privately?”

  “S’alright,” I muttered. “I have a good idea of what you’re going to say.”

  Emilio patted my shoulder, but kept his focus on Jen. “Your husband needs to get to a hospital.”

  “For his wrist?”

  “Just badly bruised, I think. But he has a fever. Fevers are a sign of infection.”

  “Sean has cystic fibrosis. He gets fevers all the time.”

  The doctor frowned at the plain plastic bag Jen held out, which currently held my entire medical supply. He shook his head, rummaging through the blister packs. “Give him one of these, with two of these, twice a day for five days. If his temp rises more than a degree and a half in two hours, call an ambulance. Likewise, if it drops low, call an ambulance. Abrupt hypothermia can also be a sign of sepsis. If he shows no improvement in two days, take him to hospital.” He pulled out a business card. “Call me if you need me.”

  I watched as Jen shook his hand, grateful. Dr. Emilio seemed like a trustworthy friend. Since I had no auditions lined up other than my callback, I could rest.

  Two days later, in the queen-size bed, Shauna slept between me and Jen. I like to think she fell asleep to the hum of my BiPAP … or maybe my heartbeat.

  But later that day, she woke to the sight of me convulsing in my sleep, coughing up blood and soaked with urine. I got to see her total horror firsthand, watching it all from the corner of the room, next to a certain ghost friend. “Hey, Cam, long time no see.”

  “Don’t give me that casual bullshit.” He glared at me as Jen startled awake, leaning over my body, holding my shoulders. “Remy’s living with Sara now?”

  “I honestly have no idea.” His weird choice of conversation topic took me aback, as did the cold fury on his face. I looked over at Jen trying to wake me. “Did you do this?”

  “No,” Cam said calmly. “This is all you.”

  “Why the hell are you even here? If you can make it to Asia, then why the fuck aren’t you in North Dakota, trying to get your dad to stop being a moron and divorce your psycho bitch of a mother instead?”

  “Mommy!” Shauna screamed.

  “Oh God, Sean! Please baby, open your eyes.”

  Cam glared at me. “I’m connected to you because you’re married to my sister. I will follow you to the ends of the earth to make sure you don’t fuck up her life.”

  Jen turned me on my side, tilted up my chin, and tried to create an airway before grabbing her phone and dialing 119.

  By the time the paramedics arrived, I’d gone into cardiac arrest. Speaking fast in Korean, the paramedics used a defibrillator to get my heart back into sinus rhythm. Over the next six hours I followed Jen around the trauma center, watching her nodding in all the right places as the doctor explained that I’d developed septic pneumonia due to a build-up of bacteria. She was stiff, pale, shaking … and I couldn’t even touch her.

  Cam shook his head. “This is what happens when you don’t take your meds.”

  “You’re just going to follow me the entire time?”

  “You’re following her.” He shrugged. “But, yup, I’m either going to watch you wake up or I’m going to help you cross over.”

  Dr. Emilio arrived a few hours later, introducing himself to the doctor on call as my primary care physician. He came into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Jen was sleeping in a chair on the opposite side of the room, holding Shauna in her arms. Shauna was surprisingly awake, watching my unmoving body. Dr. Emilio stroked her hair.

  “Little one, do you believe in angels?” he asked.

  Shauna nodded. “Does God need another angel?”

  Dr. Emilio winced, clearly not wanting to make her cry. “I don’t know.”

  I reached out to Shauna, passing my hand through her body.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, baby, I’m here.” She looked toward my voice, but not at me. I turned to Cam. “Let me guess, she can see you.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Cam stroked her cheek.

  “Uncle Cam? Where’s Daddy?”

  “Your Daddy’s right here with me.”

  I looked at Dr. Emilio, who was busy taking a picture of me where I lay.

  “What the …?”

  “Son, please know that I mean no disrespect.”

  I walked around him and looked over his shoulder, calming down some as I realized he was sending the picture to London. He added the caption: How soon can you get here?

  Cam looked at the room clock with an animated expression. “Guess what? It’s time to go back.”

  It didn’t happen right away. For whatever reason, I struggled to descend.

  When I opened my eyes, both Dr. Emilio and Shauna were gone, leaving Jen alone and upright in her seat. My breathing tube had already been removed, but I was still in so much pain. My head was throbbing, my lungs felt like they were on fire. I tried to move my legs. Oh, dear God.

  The very act of even flexing my muscles felt like someone was stabbing into my thighs. I looked to Jen to for comfort, and courage. “Jen, call the nurse. I can’t handle this.”

  “You chose this.”

  My throat was dry and pain-stricken; every breath was like swallowing a knife. Her expression was so cold. It was like I was having a bad dream. “What? Jen, please—”

  “We could have gone home at any time!”

  My hands were trembling. I needed my wife, not this narrow-eyed, furious person. I swallowed hard. “I pushed myself for you. I did it for our family. I wanted so badly to be the man you deserved.”

  “You didn’t do this for us, you did it for yourself. No, you did it for her. You wanted to impress London Sharp. Look at you now—so goddamn impressive─you were probably cheating on me the entire time!”

  “Entire time? Oh, come on.” There was no way she believed that.

  “The entire world thinks you’re so perfect together—”

  “I haven’t spoken to London in months!”

  Jen scoffed.

  “I never knew you were this upset.”

  “Yes, you did, but you were too busy having fun to care about what I wanted.”

  “Jen, please—” I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest. “I-I love you.”

  I felt myself letting go. My falling oxygen levels set off a code blue and Jen and Shauna were rushed out the room by the crash team. And I left my body again.

  “That was quick,” Cam said with a chuckle.

  “My wife hates me.”

  “She does carry our mother’s DNA. She has a fierce side. Besides, you forgot to say, ‘No, I never cheated on you with my supermodel best friend.’”

  “I shouldn’t have to.” I watched as the medical team injected ephedrine. Cam didn’t seem even a little bit worried about me leaving my body permanently, which I chose to take as a good sign. “So how is Diego?” I asked, if only to change the subject.

  “He’s doing alright, especially since Sara annou
nced her engagement.”

  “Johnny proposed?”

  “Yeah, you just never replied to Sara’s email.”

  “Wow.” I was a horrible husband, father, and brother.

  “Anyway, I seriously think my mother was afraid that Sara was going to steal my father out from under her.”

  My mind traveled back to the image in the photo: Diego and his wife together, smiling. I could just see him trying to be civil with her so they could negotiate a divorce. But I could also see her attempting to seduce Diego, if only to reclaim him as her property.

  The resuscitation attempts continued, and it looked brutal. I couldn’t watch anymore. Just looking at the defib paddles hurt, and what with the way the shocks were jerking my body up and down, there was no doubt that my back would be killing me if and when I woke up. I couldn’t look at Jen, either. Having been hustled out into the corridor by the crash team, she was pacing, fists clenched but tears flowing at the same time.

  Cam caught up with me in the memorial garden after some time. I had no idea how long I’d been wandering around. He slugged me. “You’re stable, and London’s here. Let’s get you back into your body.”

  I opened my eyes, back in my room, just as London came through the door.

  She quickly pulled up a chair by my bedside. “Hi,” London said as she stroked my face.

  The breathing tube had been removed, but I couldn’t put any strength into my voice. “Please hold my hand.” She took it, cupping it between both her hands as if to pray.

  “It’s so cold.” I said in a whisper.

  “Oh God, no …” London’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Naw, not that cold,” I said with a laugh, which sent me into a painful coughing fit. My breathing was labored and my chest sore; there was a tube connected to my side where fluid was still being drained from my lungs.

  “I’m going to get you back to California. I’m going to pay your hospital bills, and I’m going to fly in your doctor from UCLA.” She tried to look me in the eyes, but I was so tired I was already closing them. “Sean, this is all my fault.”