Widow, Virgin, Whore - A Novel

by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  Marty stopped there, returning his gaze to the ceiling. Katherine sat quietly, not knowing quite what to say. His story was so typical, and yet it always hit her as such a waste. The drugs, the parties, sex, AIDS. Dying from not being careful or not caring. No matter how many times she heard someone's story of how they got AIDS, it always hit her with a raw emotional impact, a burning desire to fight back until it went away forever.

  Marty turned his head back toward her, his breathing calmer now. "You didn't come all this way to hear me whine," he said. "I'm sorry I went on like that."

  "That's okay. I wanted to hear it," Katherine assured him. "I'm just sorry it all happened this way. Do you have family nearby, anyone who helps you?"

  Marty's eyes turned bitter for the first time that day. "Family," he said with disgust, waving his arm in the air as if to push the thought away. "My family gave up on me years ago. But hey, I don't need them. I've got this place, what little it is, and Preach comes every day to help me out." His eyes softened at the mention of Preach. "You know, that man is amazing. He helps almost everyone in this building, and he helps others in another place just like this. He takes us all to the doctor when we need to go and gets our meds for us, does our shopping, everything. And he never asks for anything in return. Preach is a saint."

  As if on cue, they heard the sound of keys rattling in the door and Preach entered in his quiet way. "You just about ready to leave, ma'am? I think your cabby is getting antsy out there."

  Reluctantly, Katherine stood and looked at her watch. "I guess I should go. My plane leaves soon." She smiled down at Marty. "It was a pleasure meeting you and talking with you," she told him. "I'll never forget today."

  He reached up a hand and she clasped it ever so gently. "Tell Darla thanks for the pictures. I'll keep them right here by my bed so I will be next to Chelsea all the time."

  "Good luck," Katherine whispered, still holding his hand. Their eyes met for the last time and in that moment, she forgot about the claustrophobic room, the mess, and the unearthly odor. All she saw was Chelsea's father beaming up at her. Their hands unclasped and Katherine followed Preach out the door.

  Katherine quietly followed Preach down the stairs and out the back door into the gray afternoon.

  After locking the doors behind him, Preach turned to Katherine. "You're the lady from the newspaper, aren't you," he asked. Katherine nodded. "I recognized you from your picture in The New York Times. I was wondering how long it'd be before you found us."

  "I found you by accident," Katherine admitted softly. She looked at him seriously. "Tell me about this place. Does everyone who lives here have AIDS?"

  Preach nodded. "Yes, ma'am, they do. It's New York's version of the old Leper Colonies. Any homeless person with AIDS is sent to a place like this to finish up their time."

  Katherine's expression was one of shock and disgust. "How many places like this are there?"

  "About forty. The state pays the apartment owners outrageous amounts to house people with AIDS. The people who live here call it the 'AIDS Hotel'."

  It was difficult for Katherine to believe a state government would allow such horrendous conditions for its sick, but she'd seen the dreary proof with her own eyes. She refocused her attention on the man before her. "Martin said that you help him and many of the people in this place and at another hotel just like this one."

  "I do what I can. Most of these people have no one to turn to. I try to bring them whatever comfort I can."

  "And you're a preacher?" she asked.

  Preach smiled at this. "That's what they call me."

  "Do you have a church of you own around here?"

  He raised his arms toward the building in front of him. "This is my church and congregation. These people need my comfort more than anyone else."

  Katherine gazed with admiration at the man before her in the tattered clothes and unwashed collar. Whether or not he was a reverend made no difference at all. It was what he gave of himself to these people that mattered.

  She took one last look at the sad building housing broken lives before returning her attention to Preach. "Martin doesn't have much time left, does he?"

  Preach shook his head. "No. Not much."

  Katherine understood, having lived with the same battle at home all these months. "What happens to these people when they die? Where do they go?"

  "They're buried in common graves in city cemeteries," Preach said. "Unmarked graves."

  The thought brought a chill up Katherine spine. They die alone and they are buried anonymously. It was too much to bear. She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper, writing her name and phone number on it before handing it to Preach. "Will you call me when he goes?" she asked solemnly. "I'd like to make sure he has a proper grave. When his daughter comes looking for him someday, I want to make sure she can find him."

  Preach nodded, took the sheet of paper, and tucked it into his coat pocket. Again, Katherine reached into her purse and pulled out all the cash she had with her. It wasn't much, but it was something. "Will you take this, too? In case he, or anyone else here, needs something."

  Preach accepted the money with a thankful nod, then walked her to the cab waiting for her at the curb. She turned to him one last time. "If there's anything I can do..." she began, but he stopped her, placing a hand on her arm.

  "Just tell the people what you saw. Write about us. Let people know we're here. That would be the greatest help of all."

  Katherine nodded, and they held hands for a brief moment before he closed her safely into the cab. She watched him grow smaller as the cab hurried away and she carried the image of the tall, black man in front of the shabby stone hotel with her onto the plane. She knew it would be an image that would follow her for the rest of her life no matter how many articles she wrote, no matter how many people she touched. And as the plane flew her home, Katherine took out her notepad and began writing words for all the country to read.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Denise came home early from work to relieve Marcia from caring for Darla. After her mom left, she ran upstairs to check on her sister. They were alone in the house. The kids hadn't yet come home from school and Craig was at the drugstore picking up medication for himself.

  "How's it going today?" Denise asked cheerfully over the buzz of a television talk show Darla was watching. Darla merely grunted a reply as Denise checked her IV bottle and tubes. The Home Health Care Nurse had been there earlier and left new bottles of both the saline fluid and pain medication but it was up to the members of the household to keep an eye on it and change as necessary.

  Satisfied everything was fine, Denise sat on the leopard lounge. "Katherine called me at work earlier to say she was on her way home. Her plane has a layover in Denver, so she'll be late. She also said she has a bone to pick with you when she returns."

  Darla only nodded.

  Since Darla didn't seem to want to talk, Denise busied herself around the room picking up dirty clothes and straightening the bathroom. After a while, Darla snapped off the television and stared at her. "We have to talk," she announced in a serious tone.

  Denise looked up, startled. She stopped wiping down the sink and came out of the bathroom. "What about?"

  Darla waved for her to sit. "Sit down. This might take a while."

  Denise sat, waiting expectantly while Darla pushed herself up higher against the pillows and turned her head toward her. "I know you're still carrying a grudge about what happened with Mark. It's time we straightened that out."

  "Mark?" Denise's brow furrowed.

  "Yeah, Mark. Remember? Your high school boyfriend?"

  "I know who Mark is," Denise said impatiently.

  "Good. I want to tell you what really happened."

  Denise stood, brushing the subject away with a wave of her hand. "That's not important now. It was years ago." She turned back toward the bathroom, but the next words to come out of Darla's mouth made her stop short.

  "It was
important enough to keep you a virgin for almost twenty years, so come back and sit down and let me finish."

  Denise stared at her in shock but did what she was told.

  "Oh, don't look so surprised. I've known for years you were a virgin, even though you never admitted it. I assume that's all changed now that you and Doc-boy are getting married. Hasn't it?"

  Denise sat stone silent and pursed her lips. She wouldn't give her sister the satisfaction.

  "Well, it doesn't matter anyway," Darla told her. "What does matter is that you stop hating me for what you think happened between Mark and me eighteen years ago."

  "I know what happened," Denise said icily. "And I don't want to hear the details."

  Darla shook her head. "You think you know but the truth is we never had sex."

  Denise stared hard. "I don't believe you. I saw him leave your apartment half-dressed. It was obvious what happened."

  "That's the way I wanted it to look. But nothing happened."

  "Why?" Denise asked, confused.

  "Because he was a jerk. Did you know that while you two were dating, he was sleeping with every tramp in school? I should know because I was friends with every tramp in school. The only reason he wanted to hang around you was because he wanted the greatest conquest of all. He wanted to place the class virgin on his list of conquests."

  "How do you know that?" Denise asked, dazed at what she was hearing.

  "Because I heard a few of his friends say so. That's why I decided to do something about it. I knew if I told you, you'd never believe me, so instead, I set it up so he'd be there when I knew you were coming over. And believe me, it didn't take much to get that guy over to my place. He came running the moment I came on to him. Anyway, he came in and I played along for a while and got him half-undressed then I laid into him about what a creep he was and he'd better not mess with you anymore or I'd let all his friends know that he didn't score with me. With that inflated ego of his, that's all it took. He left just as you were coming up the walk and that's when you saw him."

  Denise sat quiet a moment, trying to absorb it all. Still skeptical, she asked, "If that's true, then why didn't he tell me it was all a set-up and nothing happened?"

  "Because, baby sister, number one, he had such a major ego problem he didn't want the world to know that he was the only one who hadn't made it with me. Number two, he never really cared about you in the first place, otherwise he'd have tried to patch things up. He was a jerk, Denise, plain and simple. I didn't want you wasting yourself on him. You deserved better. And now you have better."

  Denise stood and walked over to the window, staring out it a long time. She wasn't sure if she could believe Darla, and if she believed her, then it meant she'd done it to help her. That thought didn't settle well with Denise. She wasn't used to Darla doing something for her benefit. She turned back to her sister and a strange thought occurred to her. After all these years, maybe she really didn't know Darla as well as she'd thought.

  "What if I had never spoken to you again after that? Why did you risk our relationship that way?"

  Darla smiled, knowingly. "I knew you wouldn't hold it against me forever. You're too soft-hearted. Besides, I couldn't let you know I was being nice. It was against my nature."

  The words made Denise smile in spite of herself. She shook her head and sighed, returning to her sink scrubbing without a word as Darla quietly dozed. And as Denise scrubbed, she realized that now she was finally able to let go of that part of her past, and it felt good.

  ***

  Eleven o'clock that evening, Katherine pulled her van into the driveway, completely exhausted. Throughout the plane trip and the layover that took longer than expected, she had pondered her extraordinary day both in her mind and on paper. The emotional impact of what she'd seen hit heavily upon her as each hour passed, as each mile sped by, causing her anger with Darla to grow for not warning her. If Katherine had known what she was walking into, she could have prepared herself. Being hit with the unexpected was what had been so taxing on her. Tomorrow, she was prepared to tear into Darla for what she'd put her through. As she entered the kitchen, she was surprised to see Denise sitting in the darkened room, looking up at her with tired eyes.

  "I didn't expect you to be up this late," Katherine said gently, noting the strained look on her friend's face. "Is everything okay?"

  "I just came home from the hospital," Denise said, her voice sounding as worn as she looked. "We had to take Darla in tonight."

  Katherine dropped her bag on a chair and sat next to Denise, the anger she'd felt earlier melting into concern. "What happened? Is she all right?"

  "She was feeling better by the time I left. Craig is spending the night there with her. I had to bring Chelsea home."

  "What happened?" Katherine asked again.

  Denise sighed heavily. "Darla had trouble breathing and she complained that her chest hurt. She'd been in bed all day, but her breathing sounded like she'd been running a marathon. Luckily, Gary was here for dinner and he decided we should get her to the hospital right away. He said her heart rate wasn't normal and he didn't like the fact she said she was having pains. So, we called Dr. Hanson and took her to emergency." Denise stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. The experience had been hard on her. Katherine understood, and placed her hand on her arm.

  "But she's doing better now?" Katherine asked softly.

  Denise nodded. "They were able to calm down her breathing, but Dr. Hanson wanted to keep her there to monitor her heart. He's concerned with her heart rate and the fact she felt chest pains. By the time I'd left, she was sleeping and she looked better. I would have stayed longer but I had to bring Chelsea home." Denise looked up at her friend with weary eyes. "I was so scared. I'm so glad Craig and Gary were here."

  "Me, too. How's Chelsea holding up?"

  "She's okay. She wanted to go with us, so I let her. She was worried, but by the time we left, she felt better."

  Katherine nodded and sighed. They'd both had a long day and it showed on their weary faces.

  "I don't know how you've done it all these months, Kathy," Denise said. "Taking care of Darla and Allison and Susie. You've faced so many of these emergencies, and I fall to pieces when I have to take her to the hospital once. I never realized how draining it was to take care of someone who is terminally ill. I don't know how you've held up through all this."

  "I wasn't alone," Katherine reminded her. "We've all been going through this, together."

  Denise shook her head. "No, you've done everything. Tonight, I realized that and truly appreciated all the work you've done for the first time. You're really amazing, you know that?"

  "Thanks," Katherine said, smiling wanly at her friend. They both yawned then, making them giggle. "I guess it's time for bed. It's been a long day."

  As Denise stood, she realized she hadn't asked Katherine about her trip. "How did everything go in New York? Did you find Chelsea's father?"

  Katherine nodded. "I found him. But there's been enough going on today. I'll tell you everything in the morning."

  Denise gave her a confused look but was too tired to press the issue. The two friends walked through the dark house and up the stairs to their rooms. For an instant, their weary eyes met, and they smiled at each other, feeling the warmth of their friendship that had lasted a quarter of a century, and content in the knowledge that no matter what happened in their lives, that friendship would go on, forever.

  ***

  On the other side of town, Darla awoke groggily in the dim light of the hospital room to see Craig nodding off in the chair next to her. "Hey," she whispered hoarsely, "what are you trying to do, make yourself sick?"

  Craig's eyes fluttered open and he smiled down at her as he pulled the chair closer to the bed. "Too late for that, I'm afraid," he teased.

  Darla tried to laugh but she coughed instead and Craig quickly offered her a glass of water. She refused it with a wave of her hand. "Did Katherine get back yet?
"

  Craig looked at his watch. "It's almost midnight. I'm sure she's home by now."

  Darla nodded, satisfied.

  Craig laced his fingers with hers. "That trip you sent her on must have been important, huh?" he asked softly.

  "Just another loose end I needed to tie up." She didn't offer more and he didn't expect her to. Their relationship was based on who they were now. He felt no need to probe her past, or she his.

  "Well, don't go tying up all your loose ends yet. I want you around a little longer, okay?"

  She gave him a small smile and he warmed her heart with one of his own in return.

  "You know, if I'd never had AIDS, I would never have met you," she told him.

  "Strange how life works, huh?" he said.

  "Almost makes having AIDS worth it," she said, squeezing his hand.

  Craig lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "I feel the same way," he whispered. Darla fell asleep again as he held her hand, a small smile on her lips.

  ***

  The next morning, Katherine headed over to the hospital to visit Darla after seeing the kids off safely to school. Denise had called her after arriving at work and told her that Darla was feeling much better, although the doctor wanted her to stay another day for observation. Although Katherine was still annoyed at Darla for sending her unprepared to New York, she promised herself to put her anger aside for now. It would accomplish nothing. So, with that resolve, she arrived at the hospital and stepped inside her hospital room.