by Dr. Xyz
He’d give anything if Carlos snapped out of it and confronted him. Throw a punch or two at him. Whip his ass. That would be wonderful. Jonathan rose out of the chair and walked over to the window, wishing that the visit would end. Wishing that he had never come in the first place. He knew he could never erase the vision of whom and what Carlos had become.
Drained from the visit, Jonathan and his mother rode back to Brooklyn in silence. While negotiating heavy rush-hour traffic, Ophelia tried to put Carlos’s visit behind her by immersing herself in thoughts of her upcoming nuptials. Calling it a pre- honeymoon vacation, Link had dropped by the house early that morning before she left with Jonathan, to tell her that he had booked a cruise to the Caribbean. In three days, they would fly down to Miami and then hop on a ship for an eight-day trip visiting Puerto Rico, Martinique and the Cayman Islands.
She needed the trip and looked forward to the special time with Link. Anything to take her mind away from Carlos and the scene that greeted her every other week when she visited him at the institution.
The entire trip home, Jonathan’s mind played vicious guilt games with him. He thought seeing his family would help him find peace in some way. When he spent time with Sherry, Tarik and their beautiful twins, he was pleased to see how happy they were. How they appeared to have moved on since the tragedy.
Seeing how his mother was engaged in a new relationship with Link encouraged him that progress was possible. But the trip to see Carlos shattered any hopes he had that peace or closure would ever be possible for him. He couldn’t wait to get back to school to see his counselor. He needed help.
Before she went to bed later that night, Ophelia opened a manila envelope. It had arrived earlier that day in the mail. Inside were several pages of documents. A note on top read:
Dear Mrs. Singleton,
By writing this letter to you, I am probably breaking every law of client privacy on the books. I did surveillance work for Nicola James almost a year ago. After seeing you interviewed on television about the tragedy that took place at your ex-husband’s funeral…I realized that you were the nurse who held baby Nicola in a photo taken when she was an infant in the hospital.
My investigation revealed horrible things about her past. When I heard that you would have adopted her if not for your husband’s drug issues, I wondered if you had known her full story…would you have been kinder to her in that interview. The press, media and you so viciously attacked her, that it upset me. I always felt that she, too, was a victim in the tragedy. In defense of Mrs. James…I felt compelled to share the contents of this package with you.
Thank you for your patience,
Sincerely, Max Whitlow, Private Investigator
After reading the documents, Ophelia cried like a baby. Upset, a call to Link was the only thing that would calm her down. After their conversation, she knew what she had to do.
The next morning, Ophelia contacted the private investigator. “I got your package, Mr. Whitlow. Now tell me, how can I reach Nicola James?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Nicola rushed home. It was their anniversary. They’d been married one year. She was expecting their first child, and she’d never been happier. But it wasn’t easy. Four years ago, when she’d received an unexpected call from Mama Ophelia, she would have never guessed it would have led to the pure joy she now experienced in her life.
After that call, she’d started visiting Carlos. At first, he didn’t even know she was in the room. Slowly but surely, he began to “notice” her. When the psychiatrists saw the way he’d responded to her, they’d added “visits with Nicola” to Carlos’s therapeutic regimen. That and electroshock therapy seemed to do the trick. After four years in the institution, the parole board released Carlos in perfectly healthy mental condition.
When he left, Nicola was by his side. The first thing they did when he got out a year ago was to go to Atlantic City and tie the knot.
Their life wasn’t perfect. Though they had good relations with Mama Ophelia and her husband, Link, nothing in the world could change Sherry’s and Tarik’s mind. They refused all attempts at reconciliation. Carlos was disappointed, but he understood why they refused.
Carlos was still proud of his brother’s career. Tarik was now a bona fide star. He had added acting to his list of accomplishments. His crowd-pleasing performance in a box-office hit had movie critics predicting he was a shoo-in for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor.
Jonathan, now a second-year medical student, initially had trouble with their relationship. He changed his mind when he saw how normal Carlos was and that Nicola was no longer the vixen he once knew. Seeing them together helped Jonathan resolve the guilt he had carried around with him for years.
When Nicola pulled into their driveway, a young woman was waiting for her outside her home. She looked like a professor. Young, she wore bifocals, carried a worn briefcase and had a seriously intelligent look on her face.
“Hello, are you Mrs. Nicola Singleton?”
“Yes, I am. May I help you?”
“My name is Winsome Collins. I’m a journalist with the Associated Press. I have news that might be of interest to you.” She looked at Nicola’s pregnant belly and added, “And your family.”
The press had treated Nicola so badly in the past, she didn’t want anything to do with Winsome or her news. But something about the young woman made her reconsider. After checking her credentials, Nicola led her into her home.
“Mrs. Singleton, for the past year, I’ve been writing a book about Tarik’s father, Eli Griffith.”
“About Eli? Not Tarik? Strange choice.”
“I started off with Tarik, but Eli’s story was far more appealing.” Not interested in anything about Eli, Nicola looked at her watch. Carlos was due back any moment. Ms. Collins would have to speed up this interview. Winsome could tell Nicola was about to throw her out. “I can tell you’re busy, so I’ll get right to the point. Did you ever work at Riker’s Island, Mrs. Singleton?”
“Why, why yes, I did. Many, many years ago. Why is that important?”
“My research revealed that when you were employed there, you were the technician responsible for an error that put Eli in a very unfortunate situation. It was why a gang led by a notorious male prostitute raped him. His name was…” Winsome looked through her papers, searching for the rapist’s identity, but Nicola knew who she was talking about.
“His name wouldn’t be Sebastian, would it? A big, old, ugly yellow devil?”
“As a matter of fact, it is.”
“That damn bastard has followed me.” Scenes of Sebastian and Harrison screwing popped up in her mind for the first time in years.
“My investigation also revealed, and I know this might be painful, that your first husband…”
“Sweetie, I know Harrison’s gay. Sebastian was his lover; that’s all ancient history.”
“So, you did know. I wondered about that. Anyway, Sebastian is now dying in a hospice from complications of AIDS.
“That I didn’t know.”
“I wanted to interview you for the book. But I also strongly suggest that you get tested for HIV. I’ve already contacted your first husband, Harrison James.”
“How is he?”
“Not too good. He tested positive for HIV.”
Nicola was in shock. The baby was also upset; she was kicking more than usual. Nicola held her head down low. If what the journalist suggested was true…she could possibly be carrying the disease. She thought back at the year she screwed anything in sight. If she was positive, she’d have a hell of a time contacting folks.
Then she thought about the people she loved and cared about who might be affected: Carlos, Jonathan, and her baby. The baby was due in three months. Nicola ran out of the house to go to the hospital. She had to know. There were too many people she needed to protect with the information.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Nicola felt warm. A thermometer’s reading proved she was running a
fever. She had been feeling weak all day long. Getting ready for her fouryear- old daughter’s first day at pre-school and preparing dinner for Carlos and his business partners later that evening, even with a full staff to boss around, had drained her tank. A cough that would not respond to the antibiotics her doctor had given her three weeks ago was really wearing her down.
Out of breath, she barely made it up the stairs to her bedroom. Coughing all the way, she checked on Cisely. She and the nanny were having a good time together. She looked at her precious child. The excellent prenatal care provided by her obstetrician and the anti-viral medications she prescribed for Nicola during the pregnancy protected her baby. After her last lab test at eighteen months, Cisely was officially HIV free. She was a healthy, smart little girl that her daddy Carlos spoiled absolutely rotten.
“Hi, Mommy. Did you buy me the new toy I told you about?”
“No, you have to ask your daddy for that.”
“But you promised, Mommy!”
“Me and your daddy will talk about it later.” Her beautiful little girl, with two long plaits, pushed out her bottom lip and turned into a little ogre. If she didn’t love her so much, she would have pushed that lip right back in. Elsa, the nanny, had a concerned look on her face.
“Mrs. Singleton, you don’t look good.”
“I don’t feel good, either. I’m going to lie down and take a nap.”
Nicola barely made it to her room. She lay down on the bed hoping that sleep would revive her. It usually did. When she opened her eyes two hours later, paramedics were shoving an oxygen mask over her face. They were preparing her for transport to the hospital. Carlos was screaming for them to help his wife.
A week later Nicola was still in the intensive care unit, barely hanging on to life. The doctors explained that Nicola was no longer just HIV positive. She now had AIDS.
Carlos was upset. After four years of taking the pills and hoping that they could keep the disease at bay, the worst had finally happened. Watching the love of his life fighting to stay alive was too much for him to bear.
Nicola’s condition slowly improved. They all thought she wouldn’t make it, but she proved everyone wrong. After a month in the hospital, Nicola came home. She was frail and had lost weight. But she was determined to live as long as she could. With Carlos by her side and her little girl to love, maybe she could beat the odds.
Two years later, Nicola was still fighting for her life. On her first day back home from her most recent stay in the hospital, Nicola sat propped up in bed watching Carlos count out his supply of pills for the day. Still only HIV-positive, he enjoyed normal health. From the beginning, he decided not to skip doses. Counselors explained that non-compliance would only encourage the development of full-blown AIDS.
“Carlos, you’re one lucky bastard.” Nicola stretched out and yawned.
“I’m lucky you and I and Cisely are together, I know that.” He bent over and kissed her on the cheeks. Though he fought hard to keep away from death, he never once thought about abandoning her. For better or worse. In sickness or in health. Those vows meant everything to him.
“Bring the mirror over to me, baby.” Carlos hesitated. She looked like hell, but he brought it to her anyway. “I look better today than yesterday, I guess. What day is it?”
“Tuesday, baby. It’s Tuesday.”
Nicola’s mental functions would come and go. Her memory was like Swiss cheese. The private duty nurse brought Nicola her afternoon dosage of pills.
“I wonder what these things are gonna do to me?” She swallowed them all in one long gulp and washed them down with water.
Nicola’s problem from the beginning of treatment was that doctors had had a hard time finding the right balance of medications. She did not tolerate the varying combinations of drugs. It didn’t help that behind Carlos’s back, she would miss dosages, thinking she could avoid the nausea, diarrhea, and bleeding abnormalities that made her life miserable. Her persistently low CD4 count, a measure of how sick her immune system was, made her vulnerable for opportunistic infections. Folks with normal levels rarely contracted these devastating illnesses.
In eighteen months, since she’d had her first AIDS-related illness, she’d had three episodes of pneumonia, the last time requiring ventilator assistance. Three months ago, blurred vision and altered mental status, brought with it a diagnosis of toxoplasmosis, a rare parasitic infection. Dark scarring lesions of Kaposi’s sarcoma covered her once beautiful face.
Carlos looked at his wife, still lovely in his mind, as she primped in front of the hand mirror. She was literally wasting away. Without an appetite, pounds melted off the body that men had once worshipped. She was ninety-two pounds when he brought her home from the hospital. Looking at her deep sunken eyes, he felt it in his bones that he was bringing her home to die.
Today was a good day for Nicola. She was lucid for the first time in a week. Often the dementia would cause her to hallucinate. Always patient, Carlos would hold her in his arms while she had long conversations with invisible people.
But as luck would have it, Nicola did respond to a new treatment protocol that doctors suggested she take. This time around, Nicola followed the doctor’s orders. Her appetite improved and she gained good solid weight. The hallucinations went away.
Carlos, inspired by Nicola’s health, felt their lives normalize again. Not knowing how long she’d be in what appeared to be remission or whether he might develop AIDS himself, he planned a year-long trip for the entire family.
He took Nicola, their daughter, Cisely, and suitcases filled with medications on a cruise around the world. Carlos was determined that for whatever time they had left together, they would spend it in happiness and joy.
EPILOGUE
Through teary eyes, sitting next to her daughter, Cisely, Nicola watched the young soprano’s angelic face effortlessly sing “His Eye is on the Sparrow. ” “Sing it till there isn’t a dry eye in the house,” were Nicola’s only instructions to the vocalist. She often hummed its melody to Carlos while cradling and rocking him to sleep. It seemed to comfort both of them. Now that was no longer a concern. Nicola’s man, the one she loved so deeply, had left her forever.
The vocalist continued to sing. Her five-octave voice made every word come alive. Nicola could feel the Eternal’s presence with her. It comforted her so. She thought back over the last two years.
Nicola’s faith had wavered so many times since Carlos had developed AIDS after they’d returned from their cruise. It had reached rock bottom when, on a bone-chilling February morning, Carlos had lapsed into a coma. Doctors had put him on a respirator and he was fighting for his life. That was the day she’d wandered into the small corner church and first heard the song about the Lord and his sparrows.
She’d heard it many times before, but somehow on that day it took on an especially deep meaning. She understood finally and completely of how the Creator watches over even the smallest of his creations. Surely, just surely, he would watch over her family. With that promise of support, she could face Carlos’s inevitable end as well as her own. She never doubted the Lord’s love again.
Within a week of that revelation, Carlos’s condition improved dramatically. They had successfully defeated death once again. They both enjoyed a brief remission from their illness. It was the last time for Carlos. He developed a rare form of meningitis two weeks ago and never came home again.
Link took Nicola’s arm. It was time to go to the cemetery. She smiled up at him and Mama Ophelia. From the very beginning, when Carlos had his first AIDS-related illness, they had been her rock through the whole ordeal. Jonathan escorted little Cisely out the church.
When Jonathan arrived in Florida to attend the funeral, Nicola really leaned on him. She, Carlos and Jonathan had all become very good friends over the years. Jonathan was now a successful infectious disease specialist. Thanks to the medications, he was still enjoying good robust health.
His book for teens, that he started
writing after he discovered he was HIV positive, Just Say No, and If You Can’t, Wrap It Up, was scheduled to be released in a few months. The revealing tell-all book advised young people to practice abstinence and if that wasn’t possible, then safe sex was the only intelligent alternative.
Jonathan helped Nicola plan the ceremony. He requested that the presiding reverend read the poem “Footprints.” Its message, that the Lord carries you when you have long lost the will and power to stand on your own, had often inspired him in times when he felt hopeless in regards to his own diagnosis.
After the reading, the soloist sang the “Sparrow” song a capella as gravediggers covered Carlos with dirt. Then…it was all over. Family and guests returned to their cars.
Link and Ophelia offered to help Jonathan, Nicola and Cisely back to the limo. They all refused. This was the last time they would all be together. They just wanted a few more minutes alone.
All three of them sat together in silence, holding hands. Out of nowhere, three small birds flew on top of Carlos’s gravesite. Were they sparrows? Jonathan, Nicola nor Cisely knew. All they did know was that somehow things would work out for them.
Whatever life had in store, they could face. For the Lord was carrying all three of them. He was watching over them just like He watched and cared for the tiny little birds, whether they were sparrows or not.
A smile fell across their faces. They rose up, arm in arm, and together they walked away from Carlos’s gravesite toward the waiting limo.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Originally an aspiring screenwriter, Dr. XYZ is a pseudonym for a credentialed physician who practices in medically underserved urban communities. In Nasty, she has subtly peppered a steamy, in-your-face, erotic tale with nuggets of preventative health facts. Most of the Nasty stories are based on scenarios she has witnessed in real life.
