To Have It All

by B. N. Toler

  “Damn,” I mumbled under my breath. “You look like shit.”

  My body looked like a hollowed-out carcass covered in tattoos. My face was bruised and swollen, dark circles hung under my eyes, my skin looked sickly and pale. Getting hit by a bus certainly didn’t do me any favors looks wise, but this was more than that. This was a man that had been hungry and homeless . . . A man that had been hit by the bus of life, dragging him with it like a rag doll after it ran him over. With that thought, shame lodged in my throat as the limp, lifeless shell before me gave me a real visual of just how far I’d fallen.

  Looking down on myself, I wondered if touching my arm would somehow switch us back. Slowly, I reached out and held my hand over my body. If we did switch back, I would be in a coma, trapped in my lifeless body. Is that what I wanted?

  “If it happens, that’s what’s meant to be,” I told myself.

  With a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes closed, preparing myself, before taking firm hold of my wrist and squeezing.

  Nothing happened.

  Releasing my grip, I roughly rubbed my face as I let out a groan. This was really happening. I was standing inside another man’s body looking at my body on its death bed.

  Rounding the bed, I sat in the chair beside it and leaned in so I was closer.

  “Max?” I whispered. “Are you in there, Max?”

  I don’t know what I thought would happen. Of course he wouldn’t just sit up and answer me, but I thought maybe the heart monitor would spike, or a finger or toe would twitch in response.

  But again, nothing happened.

  Resting my head on the bed railing, I let out another growl. “I don’t know why this is happening, Max. I can’t make any sense out of it, and there’s no one I can talk to about it.” Raising my head, I added, “You left me for dead on that street, man. You’re a real asshole, by the way.”

  “Uh, excuse me,” someone snapped. Whipping my gaze to the door, I found Helen, looking mad as hell. Her red hair was tied up in a messy knot on top of her head, her eyes had dark circles under them, a tell-tale sign she hadn’t slept in days. “There a reason you’re in here calling my comatose brother an asshole?”

  Just the sight of her overwhelmed me, more so than I would’ve thought it would. I hadn’t seen her in so long and my day had been utter hell. All I wanted to do was hug someone I loved. Without thinking I jumped up and rushed to her, grabbing her in a big bear hug. She immediately fought me; squirming, but I squeezed harder. Holding onto her was like trying to bathe a cat. Finally, she grunted and shoved me away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she raged.

  Stumbling back, I got a good look at her, and my jaw dropped. She had the slightest start of a round belly showing. “You’re pregnant, Hel?” I gasped in disbelief.

  Her face twisted as she looked at me like I was insane. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Who’s the father, Hel?” I continued. My sister hadn’t had a serious boyfriend in years. I go three months without seeing her, and she’s knocked up?

  “I’m calling security,” she moved toward the bed and took the patient call phone.

  “No, Hel, wait,” I pleaded as I grabbed her arm, trying to stop her. When she whipped around and slammed the phone against my head, I fell back and landed on my ass. “Fuck!” I hissed, holding my injured head. “That hurt, Hel!”

  “You touch me again, and I’ll bash your damn skull in with this thing,” she warned as she jabbed at the buttons on the phone. She always was an ornery little thing. She was small, but her strength was mighty. It’s one of the reasons I called her Hel—short for Hell Cat.

  “Will you just hear me out please?” I begged. “I promise I’m not a crazy person.”

  “Who are you?” she shouted.

  “I—” I stopped speaking abruptly because who was I? How did I explain this? Fuck. It was impossible, but I had to find a way. I needed someone to know what had happened.

  Scooting away from her to make her feel less threatened, I leaned against the wall. “Okay, Hel,” I began. “I know this is going to be hard to . . . understand, but will you please promise not to freak out and let me say everything?”

  Narrowing her eyes at me, she tilted her head. “You his boyfriend?”

  “What? No!” I shook my head adamantly. “I’m not gay, geez Hel.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it if you are,” she snapped.

  “I know,” I groaned, “but I’m not gay, Hel.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that, huh?” she asked, her frustration evident in her tone. “That’s Liam’s nickname for me. I don’t know you.”

  “Hel,” I began again. “I know this is hard to believe, but I’m Liam. I’m . . . trapped in this guy’s body,” I pointed to Max’s chest. “I saved his life the other day by pushing him out of the way, and I got hit by the bus. He left me for dead and when I woke up, I . . .” I paused, holding my hands up. I already felt defeated. There was no way in hell she’d believe this. “I was this guy.”

  She stared at me blankly, her gaze never leaving mine. Keeping her body still, she reached one arm slowly toward her purse resting on the table next to the hospital bed.

  “Real subtle, Hel,” I snorted. “You think I can’t see you reaching for your bag so you can pull that dainty little pistol out? You’d have to shoot me point blank to have any stopping power.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and she frowned. “You went through my purse?”

  “No,” I snickered. “I just know you’ve carried it with you ever since Grams passed and you found it under her mattress. You better not get caught with that, Hel. They’ll charge you.”

  “Liam must have told you about it,” she tested, ignoring my warning.

  “I am Liam, Hel. Ask me anything. Anything at all.”

  Hugging her purse to her chest, she stared down at me. “When’s my birthday?”

  “March 20, first day of Spring.”

  “Mother’s maiden name?”

  “Windsor.”

  “What did I name the cat I found when I was ten but Grams sent her to the pound because she had fleas?”

  “She was also pregnant, and you named her Hell Cat, Jr.”

  She grilled me for the next ten minutes, asking me question after question. And even when I got every answer right, she still looked at me like I was a con-artist.

  “High school sweetheart?” she asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Benny Cartman. He was a tool, but he was better than Ron Billings who you gave your V-card to.”

  Her mouth dropped open, her head whipping toward the bed where my body lay. “You bastard,” she gasped at my still body. “You swore you’d never tell.”

  “I didn’t,” I insisted. She still didn’t believe me. “I know this because I am Liam, Hel. I am. I know it sounds fucking crazy, but it’s true.”

  With a defeated sigh, she collapsed in the chair beside the bed. I could tell by the way she kept shaking her head she was trying to talk herself out of believing me, no matter how many right answers I gave to her questions. Finally, turning her head toward me, her gaze met mine and she asked, “If what you’re saying is true, and your Liam trapped in this body,” she motioned her hand at me where I sat on the floor, “then who is in your body?”

  Pushing myself up from the floor, I exhaled loudly. “His name is Max. And I believe he’s in my body.”

  As anyone who was asked to believe something impossible would do, she asked me a hundred questions about why this happened, and it didn’t make convincing her I was Liam any easier when I didn’t have any answers.

  “There was no witchcraft or alien abduction,” I told her. “It just . . . happened.”

  She sat quietly for a moment, her brow furrowing more and more the longer she sat. Then, looking up at me, her eyes welled up. “The prognosis isn’t good, Liam,” she said my name awkwardly. I guess looking at me as Max and calling me Liam felt weird. “They say you’re brain dead.”

  Closing my eye
s, I took a few deep breaths. It felt good to hear her call me Liam, for someone to know who I really was, but her words were brutal. Not just because of what she was saying, but because of how much pain was in her voice. “I don’t have any insurance, Hel. You can’t keep me on life support forever.”

  Pressing her lips together, she attempted to stop herself from crying, but it didn’t work. “You asshole,” she finally said as she whimpered and wiped under her eyes. “I’ve been worried sick about you, wondering if you were dead; what had happened to you. Then I get a phone call, and my worst fear came true.”

  My stomach knotted with her words and the emotion in her voice. “I’ve been ashamed,” I admitted remorsefully. “I didn’t know how to face you like this.” I motioned a hand toward my bed-ridden body.

  “You know I’m always here for you.” Her gaze was fixed on the machines. “You could have stayed with us.”

  “I’m the older brother, you shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it,” she wailed as she cut a sharp look at me.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat but said nothing. She was right. I was an asshole. After a few moments, her eyes fixed on the floor as if she was lost in thought, when she asked, “So what happens if we pull the plug?”

  I turned my back to her and rubbed my face. Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? “I don’t know.” Turning back to her, I shrugged.

  “If we take you off support, and you . . .” she closed her eyes and swallowed hard because whatever she was about to say was going to be difficult. “If your body dies, then . . . does he,” she waved her hand at me, “die?” she could barely finish.

  “That’s my best guess,” I surmised. “Or maybe . . .”

  She looked up at me, giving me a moment to finish.

  “Or maybe we switch back, and I die with my body. I don’t know.”

  “This is crazy,” she said more to herself than me. “I want to believe you so badly. That you are Liam, but what if I’m just so desperate for my brother to be alive that I’d believe anything to have that? And if what you’re saying is true, there’s a good chance you’re going to go anyway.”

  “I didn’t ask for this. I just made a fast choice to save this guy’s life,” I defended even though she wasn’t attacking me. “I didn’t want his life, or to put you through this.” Taking a deep breath, I worked hard to control my frustration. This wasn’t Helen’s fault, and the fact she was even still speaking to me at all was a huge step. I needed to accept she may need some time to really process this and believe it. “I understand your apprehension,” I told her. “And I know you don’t understand . . . I don’t understand either. Just give me some time to prove it. You know me, Helen. Better than anyone. If I can’t convince you, I can’t convince anyone.”

  She bobbed her head a few times, a deep frown on her face. “They won’t let me keep you on life support for long. No insurance aside, you’re not showing any signs of brain activity.”

  I growled, frustrated with the unknown and complications of this situation. If they took my body off life support, Max might die with my body. Or we could switch back and maybe I’d go with my body. There were too many unknowns. I needed some time to think about it. I didn’t want to hinder Max’s life in any way, or make a decision that could harm him. Yeah, the guy really was an asshole, but I wasn’t. Being the bigger and better person is a choice. If there was a chance he could die in my body, I had to try to stop that from happening. If there was a chance my body could be saved through some medical miracle, then he owed that chance to me.

  “He’s a millionaire,” I stated. “I can access his money. Max could foot the bill to buy us some time. Maybe . . . maybe there will be a miracle. Maybe my body will miraculously heal and wake up?” I didn’t believe it and judging by the deep frown still seated on her face, I knew Helen didn’t either. “Let’s give it a couple of weeks. See what happens.”

  She nodded a few times before standing and fussing with the blankets over my body.

  “You don’t need to be here every day. Okay?”

  She nodded again.

  I think at that exact moment, she truly believed me, but a small part of her thought it was too good to be true; that her brother, although in another man’s body, was alive.

  I hugged her. It was awkward at first because she just leaned against me, her arms limp at her sides, but after a few moments she embraced me and sobbed into my chest. “Everything is going to be okay, Hel,” I said, but I didn’t quite believe it myself. I had no fucking idea what was going to happen. We talked a bit longer. I gave her Max’s address and called her phone from Max’s so she had the number.

  When we walked out of the hospital together, she punched my arm. “Don’t freaking disappear again,” she warned.

  “Ow,” I mocked pain. It hurt. A little. My sister was no sissy. “I won’t,” I promised. “By the way, who is the baby daddy?”

  She snorted, amused by the way I asked the question. “His name is Brian. He’s an insurance salesman. He’s very nice.”

  I raised one eyebrow in question. “He good to you?”

  Smirking, she bobbed her head up and down as she glided one hand over her belly. “He’s real good to me. Won’t even let me work now that I’m pregnant. Wants to get married before the baby is born.”

  “You want that?”

  Her sad gaze met mine. “As soon as my big brother can walk me down the aisle.”

  I worked hard to control my expression, not wanting her to see how much her words had hit me. Grabbing her head, I pulled her to me and kissed her temple. “Everything is going to be okay, Hel.” It might not have been true, but maybe if I kept saying it over and over again, I’d believe it.

  Later, after walking around listlessly, I entered the lobby of Max’s building, Braxton perked up from behind the desk.

  “Evening, Braxton,” I called and gave a small wave.

  He stared at me. The same blank look he’d given me earlier. Did I do something out of character for Max? Did he not even offer a simple goodnight to people?

  “Evening, Mr. Porter,” Braxton eventually replied, tipping his hat to me, the same blank look on his face. “Oh, by the way,” he chirped, rushing over to me.

  Leaning in, he informed me in a hushed voice, “I found it.”

  “Found it?” I questioned.

  “Yes and had it shipped to the shop as you instructed. It arrived there today. I wanted to tell you earlier, but you seemed to be in a hurry.” We stared at each other a moment, and it occurred to me he was waiting for me. Maybe I should tip him for whatever he did. You’re supposed to tip doormen, right? Or rich people do anyway. I wasn’t sure. I was out of my league here.

  “What do I owe you, Braxton?” I finally asked as I reached in my back pocket.

  He held his hands up. “Not a thing, sir. I was happy to help you make your dream come true.”

  Dream? I wondered what a man like Max could dream of when he seemed to have everything.

  I had no idea what in the hell Braxton was talking about and I worried questioning him would just send up flags that Max was not himself. “Okay. Well, thank you.” I smiled and gave him a hard pat on the back, causing his eyes to widen. “Good job.”

  His features were contorted with uncertainty, but he bobbed his head once. “Good night, sir.” Whatever he was talking about I figured would come to light eventually. Right now, I had too many other things to worry about.

  When I reached Max’s apartment, I went inside and stood in the middle of the living room. The city lights shone through the tall windows, dimly illuminating the room. Living on the streets was scary, but in the cover and safety of Max’s home, I was more scared than I’d ever been in my life. On the street, I knew who I was, and I knew my lot in life, but here I knew nothing. I didn’t know who Max really was. I didn’t know why this had happened, and I didn’t know what would happen. The unknown is a scary thing.

  T
here were so many nights that I lay on park benches or streets, wishing I were anywhere else; a warm, safe place, but now I’d go back in a heartbeat. This was not my home. This was not my body. This was not my life. Why was this happening? Was I being punished? With a heavy sigh, I meandered into the bedroom and plopped down on the bed. It was soft, and the sheets were silk, and I should have relished the feeling of a warm comfy bed for the first time in what felt like forever, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. After tossing and turning, I gave up and lay down on the floor on my side. Maybe Max lived in a fancy apartment and had plenty of money—what most men wanted and strived to accomplish in their lifetime—but I wasn’t Max. Which meant even though I possessed his body, these things were not mine.

  I was still Liam.

  I was still no one.

  The doorbell rang ten times with no pause between. I jumped up from the floor, momentarily disoriented, my heart pounding from being woken up so abruptly. The sun blanketed the bedroom, causing me to squint. After a few seconds, I got my wits about me and realized I was still in Max’s apartment.

  I was still in his body.

  Nothing had changed.

  Ding! Ding! Ding!

  “Shit,” I grumbled as I clumsily rushed toward the living room, jamming my shoulder against the bedroom doorframe.

  “Damn,” I muttered, rubbing my shoulder.

  The doorbell continued to chime as I tripped over my own feet.

  “Hold on a damn minute!” I yelled. My voice—or rather Max’s voice—sounded husky with sleep.

  That didn’t stop the person from ringing it ten more times. By the time I got the locks flipped and ripped open the door, I was prepared to lose my mind on whoever was on the other side. In fact, my mouth was open and ready when I saw . . . them. With eyes wide from shock, I managed not to say anything, which wasn’t difficult because I had no idea what to say.

  “Max,” Waverly smiled, though it didn’t seem quite authentic. In fact, it looked downright maniacal. Her hair was in a ponytail just as it had been the night before, but this time she was wearing jeans and a gray shirt that hung off one shoulder. Was there anything she didn’t look hot in? Her outfit wasn’t what had stunned me, though. No, what had me tongue-tied was the chubby baby girl propped up on her hip with her head resting on Waverly’s shoulder.