by Rick R. Reed
Adam shared how hard it was for him, feeling so isolated. There was no one for him to really talk to there. In spite of his crimes, he had nothing in common with the other inmates.
Adams KS lesions had worsened even over the course of a couple of weeks, which inspired not pity or compassion from his fellow inmates, but more jeering.
Dan ached for him. He asked Adam if he could come see him, saying he would come whenever would be good for him, even if it meant missing a day of work at his brand-new job, but Adam, so far, had said hed prefer Dan stayed in Tampa. “The trip is too far for that old beater you drive,” he would say. Or hed complain that he simply couldnt tear himself away from “Mahjong with the girls” long enough to receive “gentleman callers.”
Dan suspected that Adam didnt want to see him because of the KS and the worsening lesions, but for now at least, he respected Adams wishes.
But he would not stop trying to get up there to see him.
All of these thoughts ran through his head as he sat in the crowded waiting room of the Tampa Department of Public Healths STD Clinic, waiting for a counselor to call him in with his test results.
Today was the day.
A guy about Dans own age in T-shirt and jeans came out from behind a door and looked around the waiting room. He spotted Dan and came over to him. Dan recalled the dark-haired man had checked him in when hed arrived at the clinic. Dan thought hed said his name was Carlos. Carlos leaned down close to Dan and said softly, “The counselor will see you now.”
Dan stood on unsteady legs, wondering why Carlos had bothered to make the trip into the waiting room just to tell him it was his turn to be seen. Calm down. They probably just do that to respect your privacy. It doesnt mean he was softening the blow of whats to come.
Dan followed the man back to a warren of small exam rooms and offices. Carlos gestured to one of them. “You can go in and have a seat. Becky will be in to see you in just a minute.”
Dan nodded, his stomach churning and a splash of acid rising to the back of his throat. This was the big moment. It could be lifedefining. Or death-defining, depending on how the results went.
Dan sat after Carlos closed the door, glad there were no mirrors in the room because he was certain the glass would have thrown back the reflection of a man with a pasty white complexion, slick with sweat.
Dan feared he would throw up.
Becky came into the room. She reminded him of his mother— slightly overweight, with permed, dark brown hair, and oversized glasses. She looked about fifty, and there was a kind aspect to her demeanor that made Dan paradoxically at ease and on guard.
She looked down at his file and then up at him, smiling.
What would she say? How would she put it?
Dan felt himself grow faint.
“Dan. Im sorry, but your test came back positive for HIV antibodies.”
Dan felt as though he would drop to the floor. He had expected this, knew it was coming, yet it was no easier to bear. His life was over. When would he start getting sick? When would the first ailment make its deadly appearance? Which infection would it be? How long would it take before AIDS extinguished his light?
He searched for words to put in his mouth, but it seemed as though the connection between his brain and his mouth had been severed. He could only stare, slack-jawed, at the motherly woman.
“Im sorry, honey. But this doesnt have to be bad news. They are coming up with new treatments all the time! No worries! Before you even get sick, Im sure theyll have something for you.” Becky laughed. “Youll die of old age before that old AIDS monster gets you!” she laughed again.
“Are you sure?” Dan sputtered.
“Sure Im sure! Youre gonna be just fine! Youll see.”
“No. I mean, are you sure about the results?”
“Oh yeah, honey. The test doesnt lie. Youre gay, right?”
Dan nodded, numb.
“And you know what gay stands for, doncha?”
Dan put a hand to his mouth to stifle the wave of hysterical laughter threatening to burst from his lips. He knew what she was going to say.
“Got AIDS yet?” Becky slapped the desk, laughing, and Dan joined her, laughing until his sides ached, until tears poured from his eyes. The pair paused in their hilarity for a moment, looked at one another, and started laughing all over again.
“Mr. Calzolaio? Mr. Calzolaio, are you all right?” Becky leaned over him, concern radiating from her warm, brown eyes.
Dan shook his head and the room came back into focus. He realized he had slipped away for a moment, maybe even fainted.
“Yes, yes. I think so. Ive just been so nervous about this.” He looked up into Beckys face.
“Let me get you some water.”
He grabbed her arm before she left the office. “No. I dont need water. I need to know. Did you just tell me I was infected?”
Becky looked at him, cocking her head in confusion. “No, honey, thats not what I said at all.” She hurried back around to the other side of the desk and sat. “I said just the opposite. Youre negative, sweetheart. But your ELISA test did come back positive the first time.”
Dan felt like the floor was coming out from under him once again.
“And when we ran the test a second time, it came back positive again, so we sent it for the Western Blot and that came back negative. That happens sometimes… but youre okay.” She opened a drawer and handed him a pamphlet. “That explains how the testing works. But if the Western Blot is negative, youre not infected.”
“Youre sure?”
Becky nodded. “You were worried about this, huh?”
Dan wanted to laugh again. “Yeah, a little bit.”
“Have you been exposed?” Becky peered at him from over the top of her glasses.
“No.” He paused, thinking. “Maybe. I dont know.”
“Well, I need to tell you—there is what they call a window period, when you could be infected, but the tests dont yet pick up on the antibodies.” She made sure Dan met her gaze and continued. “Thats why you need to make sure you play very safe.” She reached in the same drawer from which she had taken the pamphlet and pulled out a handful of condoms, setting them down in front of Dan. The bright metallic wrappers made him think she was offering him candy. “Dont take any risks and make sure you come back in six months and get tested again, just to be certain. Okay?”
Dan thought he would abstain from any sex for the next six months—maybe forever. He stuffed the rubbers into his pocket anyway and stood.
“You gonna be all right?”
“Yeah. Ill be fine. Thank you.” Dan left the office, feeling curiously numb and relieved all at once. A part of his heart ached because he knew this scene had played out so differently for Adam. DAN drove to his office, barely registering the turns he made and the stops at traffic lights, the car on a sort of autopilot. He was still stunned, feeling as though he had dodged a bullet, gotten lucky… and worried that when he returned to the clinic in six months, the real truth would out, and the scene he had dreamed in Beckys office would play itself out, only not so absurdly.
He wasnt quite sure how hed be able to do his job for the six or so hours he had remaining in his day, but in a way, he was grateful for the distraction.
Good God, what would you have done if the test had come back positive? Could you have gone in and worked as though nothing had happened? Could you have smiled at your coworkers and acted polite on the phone? Could you have written up your underwriting reports as though nothing was wrong?
Dan shook his head and pulled into the parking lot of Reports, Inc. He honestly didnt know how he would have handled it if the test had come back positive. He might have been in denial and would have gone about his day, treating it like any other. He might have killed himself. He might have visited the bathhouse and allowed himself to have unfettered bareback sex with a dozen guys, realizing he had nothing to lose. Oh you know you wouldnt do that! You wouldnt dare take the chance of putting someon
e else through hell, jeopardizing their lives, their health, for your own selfish pleasure. No, Dan knew he wouldnt do something so rash.
Yet he thought someone else might have done just that to Adam at some point. Whoever had infected him might have known they were infected—and simply not cared. Or they had thought that Adam was infected too; why else would he take the risks he was taking? It was attitudes like those that were causing this plague to become epidemic and Dan knew it.
He glanced at himself in his rearview mirror, wiping his damp face with a napkin stolen from Checkers and running his fingers through his hair, trying to impose some sort of order.
He exited the car, hoping he could manage to get through the day as just a cog in the insurance industrys machinery.
Chapter Fifteen
THE phone was ringing when Dan put his key to the lock of his front door. What now? Could the day possibly get any more eventful? He hurried to open the door and dashed through the small apartment, trying to beat his answering machine in the race to be the first to pick up.
“Hello?” Dan said into the phone, a little breathless. “Dan?”
“This is he.” The voice on the other end sounded familiar, but
Dan couldnt place it.
“Hey, its Duncan.” The voice paused. “Duncan Boechler, from
the Tampa AIDS Alliance?”
“Oh sure. How are you?” Dan couldnt imagine why Duncan
would be calling him. Maybe just to check in? But they had regular
meetings for that, so why call him at home?
“Im okay.” He paused again, and Dan felt a rush of nerves pass
through him. Something was up.
Duncan continued, “Ive got some news about your buddy.” Dan sucked in a breath. “Is he okay?”
“Not really.”
Dan moved with the phone to the living room and sat down on
the couch. “Did he die?” Dan strangled a cry in his own throat by
stuffing his fist into his mouth.
“No, no, hes, hes… not dead. Hes hanging on.”
“Whats going on?”
“Last night, Adam got really sick. Pneumonia. By midnight,
they had him in the prison infirmary.”
Dan sighed a breath of relief. According to Adam, hed beaten
this pneumonia thing several times before. He would be okay,
wouldnt he? He said as much to Duncan.
Duncans voice went softer. “Its… actually pretty bad this time.
I talked to the chaplain up there—and Ill give you his number—and
he said Adams been weakened a lot lately by the ordeal. His KS has
gotten rapidly worse. You know that could mean that what theyre
seeing on the outside could be just as bad or worse than whats
growing on the inside?”
Dan stared out his sliding glass doors as a breeze rippled the
surface of the lake. Hed read enough about KS to know that it was a
hungry beast and it could devour skin as well as internal organs and
tissue. Once again, he had to stifle the urge to cry.
Duncan went on. “Anyway, they say hes not in real good shape.
The staff up there at the infirmary have treated some AIDS cases, but
Im worried they dont really know what theyre doing.” The man
said nothing for several beats. “I just wanted you to know.” “People recover from this pneumonia all the time, right?” Dan
said, desperate.
“Sure. It happens and I hope Adam will be okay.” Duncan gave
him the name and number of the chaplain at the penitentiary and hung
up, telling Dan not to hesitate to call him if he needed anything. Dan hung up the phone and started pacing. This wasnt
supposed to be happening. Adam was supposed to hang in there until
things got sorted out with his case. Adam needed to come back home
again. Dan couldnt even accept the reality that Adam—his Adam—
could die all alone, in prison.
No, that was just too awful. The universe, God, whatever,
wouldnt allow it.
If only things worked that way!
Dan sat back down on the couch, wondering what he should do
next. He felt like someone had just handed him the steering wheel of a car that was careening out of control on an icy road back up north.
Things felt exactly that sudden and reckless.
He stared down at the slip of scrap paper upon which he had
written the phone number for John Lucas, the prison chaplain. “Theres no time like the present.” Dan picked up the phone
and, eyes moving from paper to keypad, he punched in the numbers,
praying the chaplain would be there to take his call. He realized he
needed to talk to the man and couldnt bear the thought of speaking
into an answering machine or worse, listening to lonesome,
unanswered ringing.
Someone picked up on the second ring. “This is Reverend
Lucas.”
Dan closed his eyes, grateful. Now, he needed to pull himself
together and get through this call sounding like a normal, concerned
friend and not someone just clinging to his own sanity, wondering
how his own life, and those of people he cared about, had managed to
spin so utterly out of control so fast.
“Hi Reverend Lucas. This is Dan Calzolaio. Duncan Boechler at
the Tampa AIDS Alliance gave me your number. Im Adam
Schmidts AIDS buddy. I was calling to see how he was doing.” “Hi Dan. Im glad you called. I was hoping you would.” “So… how is he?”
“You want the good news or the bad news first?”
Dan didnt have to think. He was never much good at delaying
gratification. “The good, I guess.”
“Adam, in spite of being very ill, does have lucid moments. And
in those moments, he manages to hang on to something very
surprising—his sense of humor. He manages to keep the doctors and
nurses up here laughing at the worst of times. That man has a
shameless worldview!”
Dan understood. He could believe Adam would make jokes
about his sickness, even about his dying. It was how he would cope. “So, is there more good news?”
“Im afraid not, Dan.” The chaplain took a deep breath. “His KS has worsened and its spread internally. Whats most concerning is that the cancer has attacked his lungs, just a little right now, but its very aggressive. That, on top of the pneumonia hes come down with and the fact that his T-cells number in the single digits, and we have a
reason to be very concerned.”
Please, please, please, just tell me youre joking. Tell me theres
treatment. Tell me hell get better. Please, please, please. “Isnt there something they can do?” Dan asked, his voice
barely above a whisper. “Chemotherapy? Radiation?” Dan knew the
answers already; they were simply common sense, but he had to ask,
had to cling to some hope for his friend.
“Hes too weak, Dan. There arent many treatment options open
to him, Im afraid. The only thing we can do is keep him free of pain
and comfortable.”
“That makes it sound like hes going to die!” Dan said in a
strangled voice, not wanting to accept the truth staring him squarely
in the eyes.
The chaplain said nothing for several seconds. “He is going to
die, Dan. Im sorry.” He paused again. “Listen, Im a man of God. I
like to believe in miracles and my heart stays open, hoping something
miraculous happens here. But the realist in me knows, as do the
doctors treating Adam, that he doesnt have much longer.” “Cant they let him out?
Its so cruel! Cant they just let him
come home for the time he has left?” Dan knew he sounded breathless
and desperate. He realized hed take Adam in and care for him in his
final days, if only theyd let him. He hated thinking of Adam alone
and dying in some cold penitentiary infirmary.
It wasnt fair.
“I wish the system worked that way.”
The two said nothing for a while. Dan guessed they were each
lost in hopeless thoughts.
Finally, the chaplain spoke again. “Dan, he wants to see you.” “He does? I mean, Ive been trying to get up there to see him but
he never wants to let me come.”
“Well, hes asked for you now.”
“What about Sullivan? His—” Dan groped for the right term and felt he was betraying their love when he concluded his question
with, “His friend?”
“Sullivan was here last night.” The chaplain didnt say anything
more.
Dan wanted to get into bed and sleep, wake up and start the day
over again. This was not happening.
“Dan? Will you come see Adam?”
“Of course I will.”
“Can you come tomorrow?”
Dan wondered, for only a second, why it had to be so soon. He
knew. He wished he didnt, but he knew. For just a second, an image
popped into his head: Adam racing into the surf at Ft. De Soto Beach.
Had that only been a few weeks ago? How could so much, so bad
have happened so quickly? Dan bit his lower lip to thwart the sob
threatening to escape. He said quietly, “Of course Ill come.” To hell
with work, to hell with everything.
A man, his friend, was dying.
“Tomorrow, then? In the morning? Say ten? I can put you on the
list of approved visitors.”
“Sure. Ill be there.” Dan thought for a moment. The chaplain
mentioning visitors caused something to occur to Dan. “Have his
parents been to see him? Theyre in Illinois, I think. Downers Grove,
maybe?”
“They were here this weekend, Dan.” Reverend Lucas said
nothing for a moment. “His mother took it pretty hard.” He sighed.
