Arizona Allspice

by Lewin, Renee

  They weren’t like my usual beat up steel-toed throwbacks. These boots were foxy, mid-calf, Italian made boots formed of smooth black leather and with a three inch heel. They had no zipper so they were completely seamless. The toe was perfectly round and the leather had a perfect sheen to it. I slipped them onto my feet and stood up to walk towards the full length mirror on the wall. With one step in those boots I felt myself stand straighter and hold my chin up higher. I looked at myself in those boots in the mirror and actually giggled. I spun around and did some salsa moves and thought to myself that this was what the pretty girls feel like. I sat down beside Uncle Frank on the bench in the shoe department, pulled one boot off and nestled it into the tissue paper in its box. Morosely, I pulled off the other boot, studied it, rubbed away a smudge with my thumb, glanced at the amount on the price tag and huffed, and set it beside its twin in the blue paper-lined box. “Bye bye,” I said in a small voice and place the lid on the box.

  “After watching this entire love affair: the first glance, the courtship, the first dance, the first ‘I love you’ and the tearful farewells,” he placed a hand over his heart, “I truly understand the shoe addiction of the female species.”

  “Who are you calling a species?”

  “By the way, those shoes are yours.”

  “Yup. It’s like they made them just for me. And they can actually be mine for a small onetime fee of only two hundred and ninety-five dollars of hard earned money.” I stood up to give the shoes back to the sales clerk.

  “Laney, they’re yours. You’re getting them.”

  “You’ve spoiled me enough today, Unc. I don’t need these overpriced boots.”

  “Elaine,” he said sternly. My stomach jumped like I was ten-years-old again and caught sneaking extra chocolate cake. “I am buying them for you. You deserve to have good things.” He snatched the box from my hands and walked towards the register. “Think of it as an early Hanukkah gift,” he called back. The lady behind the counter looked at me confused, trying to piece together my nonexistent Jewish heritage. For the record, Uncle Frank isn’t Jewish either. He just enjoys embarrassing me. I sat down on a comfortable loveseat for exhausted husbands outside a women’s fitting room. When would I ever wear those shoes? They’d stay in the box on a shelf in my closet unless I forced myself to journey outside of my comfort zone. My clothing used to be a statement. It had become a joyless security blanket. I think Uncle Frank was encouraging me to experience new things.

  “Here you go. I think it’s time for us to head home. I’m too old for the night life.”

  I took the bag from his hand and hugged him around the shoulder.

  We arrive at the house around eight o’clock.

  “Want to watch a movie or something?” Uncle Frank offers as he sits down on the couch.

  “Nah, I’m sure you’re sick of me by now.”

  “As long as we’re on the same page…” he turns on the television with the clicker.

  “Hey!” I laugh.

  “Do you want me to cook up a little something for dinner?”

  “No. I’m not hungry. You fed me well and I need to do some writing.”

  “Okey dokey. Good night.” He flips through the channels.

  “Good night.” I traipse into my bedroom, put the bag with my boots in my closet and tape my art poster on my wall. I take my journal out of a drawer in my night table, in the spirit to write. I want to go to the hospital to be by Joey’s side, but I have a surge of ideas coming to the surface. Going out to the Valley reminded me about life outside of town and inspired my own creativity. The door to possibilities has cracked open and words are flowing out like an undammed river.

  The phone rings and I wiggle my cramped fingers before I pick up the cordless handset. The display screen reads 8:47 PM. I haven’t lifted my pen up from the paper in over half an hour.

  “Hey Manny.” I answer smiling.

  “I guess I don’t have to ask how you’re doing. You sound like you’re fine and dandy.”

  “Yeah. I’m feeling good today.”

  “Wish I could say the same,” he sighs and I immediately bring my giddiness down a few notches. “You sound good. Did you spend some quality time with Uncle Frank?”

  “Yeah. We had fun.”

  “Hmm. What did you two do?”

  I don’t want to depress him by recounting what a cool day I’ve experienced. “Um, we went out for lunch and stuff.”

  “You’re a horrible liar, by the way. Tell me what you really did.”

  “No, it’s not important.”

  “Come on! I want to be part of the fun too,” he chuckles.

  “It’s not going to be fun to hear a retelling of something you missed out on.”

  “Laney, I’m telling you I won’t be mad. Do you think I’m going to be jealous of you or something?” He sounds offended.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Then why do you need to hide it from me? You’re making me feel like you don’t trust your own damn brother.”

  His sudden attitude annoys me. I start pacing the floor of my bedroom. “Now you know how I feel,” I retort.

  “Sure,” he laughs bitterly. “You’re the one who won’t even tell me something as simple as how you spent the day with our uncle. But me, the one who is protecting you from information I’m not even one hundred percent sure of, I’m the evil one?”

  “If you would just tell me these supposedly earth-shattering secrets there wouldn’t be any trust issues and we could stop butting heads all the time arguing about things that aren’t even the real issue! Stop being such a jackass!”

  “Fine! You want to know about me” He quickly holds his tongue from finishing the statement. “Let me…let me talk to Uncle Frank for a minute. Give him the phone. Please.”

  “I can’t believe you! You’re really just going to brush me off?”

  “I want to talk to my uncle and I would like you to cool down before you or I say something we’ll regret.”

  “I’m so tired of all these secrets! Am I that pathetic that everyone is afraid to tell me anything of consequence?” Warm tears trickle down my face.

  “No, Laney. Don’t think that.” His voice is thick with guilt.

  “I hate this!” I bawl. “I might as well be alone. Either I cause someone pain or I can’t do anything to shield them from it. Everyone around me gets hurt. And it hurts.” I clutch the phone tight in my hand and hide my wet face in the crook of my arm trying not to hyperventilate. The actual physical pain I’m feeling inside makes me panic.

  “Laney, I’m here. I’m here.”

  “No. You’re not,” I cry.

  “I wish I was. I’m sorry. You are not pathetic and you are not a problem, Laney.”

  His words are chamomile oil to my wracked stomach, even though I don’t really believe all of it. We sit on the phone in relative quiet, the only sound an occasional sniffle on my end.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I sniffle and nod. Realizing he can’t see me I then say, “Uh huh.”

  “Then trust that when all the planets align with the star that you are, I will tell you my secrets and they won’t even faze you. Okay, Starshine?” I hear the smile in his voice and know his corniness means he doesn’t hate me. The phone beeps. It’s Miss Kinsley calling.

  “Manny, Miss Kinsley is calling on the other line. It must be important.”

  “My line just beeped too. I only have a few minutes left. I’ll go ahead and let you go. Call me tomorrow and let me know what’s going on and if Joey’s good,” he says nervously.

  “Just wait on the line and I’ll tell you what she says.” I take a deep breath and switch lines.

  “Hello?”

  “Elaine?” she asks and I can tell she’s been crying, too. My heart drops.

  “Yes, Miss Kinsley?”

  “The doctor wants to wake Joey up tonight! He says the swelling is gone now. They’ll take him off the medicine and my baby will wake u
p!” she says tearfully.

  “That’s such great news. I need to tell my brother. He’s on the other line. Wait one second.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hello?...Hello? Manny?...” The line is dead. I smack my fist on the bed frustrated. I don’t want Manny to go back to his cell thinking Joey took a turn for the worst.

  “Elaine?” Manny answers.

  “Oh my gosh! Where were you? I was freaking out!”

  “The line had a lot of static for a second there and I couldn’t hear anything. I can hear you now. What did she say?”

  “The greatest news! He’s going to wake up tonight.”

  “Be my eyes and my voice. Let him know that, no matter what happens, he’ll always be my bro, mi familia.”

  “I will.” Then the call is ended. I switch back to Miss Kinsley’s line. “Manny is really happy, Miss Kinsley.”

  “That’s good, Elaine. Come over to the hospital now if you can. I know Joey would want to see you when he opens his eyes.”

  I quietly clear my throat. “I’m on my way.” I hang up the phone and stand up from the bed. My palms are sweating. I dry them on my jean vest. I take my purse and put my cell phone in it. I glance in the mirror and decide to put my glasses back on. After all, I don’t want to startle Joey with a completely new look. “Uncle Frank!” I call to the living room.

  “Yes?”

  I walk into the living room as he’s standing in front of the couch tiredly stretching. “Miss Kinsley called. Joey’s coming out of the coma tonight,” I smile. Uncle Frank doesn’t ask about the tears in my eyes, figuring they are happy tears.

  “I’m going with you,” he says. “Does this shirt look okay?”

  I look at him as if he’s lost all his wits.

  “Right,” he says, running his hands through his hair. “I’ll drive.”

  ******

  “Understand that he was not sleeping. He was in a coma. It wasn’t like how you or I experience sleeping at night. He didn’t have any dreams. In a coma, the brain signals bodily functions such as the heart beating and lungs expanding, but there is no consciousness to allow dreams. His memory will be affected by the accident. When he wakes up he will feel as if no time had passed between the accident and now. He may not remember the accident at all.” He rubbed at his brown beard tiredly. “We have already removed the pentobarbital drip. When he gains consciousness, in about twenty minutes or so, we will make some observations and conduct traumatic brain injury tests. Physical ability tests, etcetera.”

  “Dr. Rice, I need to prepare myself so that I can be strong for my son. You understand? I don’t want to hear ‘etcetera’. Tell me what exactly I should expect. I need to think of what to say to comfort my child when he finds out he’s damaged.”

  Dr. Rice nodded at Amelia. His eyes were magnified by his gold framed glasses. He folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward in his chair.

  “I don’t want you to be frightened. He may wake up perfectly normal. Or, he will have problems consistent with trauma to the cerebellum and occipital lobe, at the back of the head. Problems would include dizziness, tremors, insomnia, vision difficulties, muscle weakness, uh, inability to reach for and grab objects, he might have to relearn how to walk, and he may have slurred speech.”

  “Okay.” Amelia tried to accept the words, but they slipped away from her.

  “Also, trauma to the back of the head can cause the brain to bounce from the back of the skull and make contact against the front of the skull. So, along with the cerebellum, the frontal lobe of the brain may suffer trauma, resulting in changes in personality, inability to perform multi-stepped tasks, and other similar issues. As I said before, he could wake up and have not even one of those side effects. The only side effects I anticipate are severe headaches from the brain tissue swelling.”

  Amelia corrected her slouched posture and batted some loose strands of restless red curls away from her drained face. “Thank you. How much longer until he wakes up?”

  He glances at the time on his computer screen. “In about fifteen more minutes he should reach consciousness. Maybe sooner.”

  “I’m going to go for a quick walk,” she said without looking at him. Then she left the room and took the elevator to the lobby floor.

  She wrapped her arms around herself as she got off the elevator and walked through the automatic doors into the night. Squinting up at the stars she tried to mentally prepare by reminding herself that all situations big or small, bad or good, were of a higher purpose. That she had to have faith and trust that her son’s life path had been blessed and would always be blessed. She rehearsed those words, but still there was bitterness in her heart. That boy, Elaine’s brother, who Joey had treated like family, had turned on him. He’d put his hands on him and he knew it was the one wound her baby bared that never quite healed. The Roberts family had a grip on her son for too many years. She wished Joey had listened to her when she told him to stay away from them. He didn’t tell her about dating Elaine because he knew she would have been concerned. She just didn’t want her son hurting anymore.

  The doctor said Joey might not be able to walk or he could wake up with a different personality. What would be left of her only child if he couldn’t play soccer again or work to provide for himself or if he lost his bighearted nature? He would be stripped of everything that made him the man he grew to be. It had been a miracle that Joey hadn’t tried to self-medicate or do any other destructive behaviors to deal with the pain of not having his father in his life. He was still a very sensitive person and a bit unconfident at times to the point where he would deny himself the rewards and the praise he deserved, but a good kid. She was so proud of him for just being the person he was. If the accident had taken his strength and personality, she feared Joey would not make all those good choices again. She wiped angry tears from her face and went to get Joey’s girlfriend from the waiting room.

  ******

  Dread forms a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. Joey will be waking up. He could give his statement. Manny could be released, yet I was panicked. Miss Kinsley walks into the waiting room.

  “Amelia.” Uncle Frank smiles warmly.

  She nods at my uncle and looks at me. “They will wake him up in a few minutes. I assume Joey wants you to be there,” she voices coldly.

  Uncle Frank’s eyebrows go up.

  Her reluctant invitation is a mallet on the tiny box holding the guilt inside of me. The guilt from lying, for telling her I love her son. Uncle Frank looks worried. I grip my hands together in front of me as I walk from my seat towards her. We begin to leave the waiting room.

  “Amelia?” Uncle Frank calls her back. She turns. He stands up from the chair and comes to her, studying her restrained expression. Then he wraps his arms around her and she leans into his hug. “You raised him, Amelia. He’s a strong kid. He’ll be fine.” After a minute or so, she removes her wet face from his shoulder and nods.

  “Do you need me to go with you?”

  “I don’t want Joey to have too many strangers staring at him when he wakes up. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable, understand? But, thanks for asking, Frank.”

  I’m a stranger to Joey as well. I should stay here in the waiting room.

  The two of us, Miss Kinsley and I, walk down the hall to Joey’s room.

  Dr. Rice is there and the blonde nurse and one other nurse whom I’m not familiar with. They check monitors and remove some IVs from Joey’s arms. Joey’s mom positions herself at his bedside, kissing and holding his heavy hand. I stand by the doorway watching. Dr. Rice steps closer to me, smiling.

  “So, you told his mom about you and she approved?” he whispers.

  I shake my head. “Too early to tell.”

  He frowns sympathetically and walks away to perform his doctorial duties. Joey lies in the hospital bed unsuspecting. The little hair that has grown back on his head is lightened to a strawberry blonde by the overhead lights. His lips are slightly parted. Before I�
�m ready, Joey begins to stir. His arm moves and he shifts his head on the pillow.