Live And Let Die
Chapter 15
By: Makena
Benji walked back to Makena's room, stunned, overjoyed and pissed all at the same time. His dad - he was in the hospital! He knew where his dad was for the first time since he was 16. But... of course, he still couldn't feel much but hate for the man. How could he? He hadn't heard anything from the man since he was in high school.
As he walked, his pace changing from slow to quick, back to slow before sort of making an unintentional b-line, which got him awkward "are you drunk?" stares.
'Tell Joel?' he contemplated. 'Or pretend it never happened. Maybe I should just pretend I never saw him...' He was about to round the corner into Makena's room when he saw some one else he hadn't seen in a while, standing next to her bed and talking to her. Blond hair. Large build, tall - jockish looking, except for the black band t-shirt he wore and the punk bracelets that adorned his wrists.
At first, Benji wanted to run out of the room, hoping to go un-noticed. But he couldn't because he had paused too long to look at the new man and Makena. They both looked up at him, Makena's face streaked with tears that had just stopped.
"Benji," he said from the bed with a small nod.
"Aaron," Benji said, returning the gesture. Aaron didn't say anything else, but sent cold stares in Benji's direction. While he said he that Benji was forgiven, he never really had forgiven him for taking Makena away from him.
And on top of that, there was the "you don't even count" incident which made Aaron drop the band and join a new one. Makena sensed Aaron's anger and gently touched his hand.
"Don't," she whispered. She quickly glanced over at Benji, who was sizing him up. She gave him a warning glance, which did nothing for him, because he knew he couldn't take Aaron down - even if he had to. Benji was only 5'7" at the most, and Aaron was a good seven, eight inches taller. He'd done it before, of course, in high school, but Aaron had never been given a chance to make his come back and sock Benji in the eye. Some one was always pulling them apart before Aaron had a chance to do something.
"I... um..." Benji began finally, trying to avoid eye contact with his old friend. "I should probably go and... get some rest or something..." He stared at the ground. He didn't want to go home and sleep. He wanted to stay at the hospital where she was.
"No, I'll go in a minute," Aaron insisted, his voice sounding distant and hateful. "I just wanted to see her for a minute."
Benji nodded, but hesitated. He looked up at him for a minuet before looking back down at Makena.
"Um... did you want me to get you anything?" he asked her. She shook her head.
"Okay," he said. "I'm gonna go get - something..." He trailed off and sighed. Glancing quickly at Aaron, Benji turned and left, hoping the awkward feeling would go away.He turned and walked into an elevator, searching his pockets for some cigarettes.
------
He sat himself down on the curb, drinking from a vodka bottle and smoking a cigarette from a new pack. He wondered where Shannon was. And then he wondered where Joel was before he was lost in thought about anything and everything when a shadow blocked what little light the sun gave off.
"You got any more cigarette's son?"
Benji sighed. "Yeah," he said, taking the pack out of his pocket. "And don't call me son - I'm not your son."
"I know you ain't," the man said, taking a cigarette from the pack and lighting it up. "I was just sayin..."
"Yeah," Benji muttered. "Whatever." He took another swig from his bottle. Neither of them said anything for a moment while the mysterious man walked up and down the side walk. From the corner of his eye, Benji could see a navy blue hospital robe and the spotted hospital gown patients were supposed to wear.
"That vodka looks good," the man said. "Mind if I...?"
Benji rolled his eyes but stuck the bottle out for him. "Might as well," he said. "You've already ruined most of my day anyway."
"What's the matter with you, boy?" the man questioned. "You sick or somethin'?"
Benji sighed and shook his head. "No," he said. Neither of them said anything again. Benji listened to the man take full drinks of his alcohol and sighed.
"So... what are you here for, anyway?" the man asked, handing the bottle back to Benji.
"My... um..." Benji paused. He didn't really know what Makena was to him. Some girl he knocked up in high school? Friend? Girl friend? "There's this girl... she was in a coma. She's okay now, though. But... we... I lost my son, so..."
"Damn," the man muttered, sitting himself down on the side walk next to Benji. "I'm sorry to hear that. I lost some kids a while back, myself. Never did get over 'em. Can't remember what they'd look like today."
Benji sighed and rested his forehead on his arms, which had been crossed over his knees. He wanted to be alone - he didn't want to talk to this stranger.
"Anyways," the man continued. "I'm in for some fight I can't even remember. Some son-of-a-bitch smashed a chair across my back - nearly broke it too."
Benji frowned slightly and listened to the rest of his story.
"Also, I guess I've got some sort of liver thing or some shit. Not supposed to drink anymore, but them sons-of-bitches don't give a flying fuck whether I drink or not. If it doesn't cost 'em anything, and I pay 'em for telling me shit - don't matter."
Benji looked up at the man, squinting slightly. Black hair that was going gray, dark and dull watery eyes.
"Mother fucker..." Benji whispered, sure that the man hadn't heard him. He paused, contemplating on weather he should leave or stay to talk to him. He didn't know how long it would be before he saw him again.
"Are you some kind of alcoholic or something?" Benji questioned, not caring if the question sounded rude or not. The man - John... his father - shrugged.
"I suppose," he replied. "Donno why - income goes down, alcohol intake goes up, I guess."
"I guess you don't make a lot of money, then?"
"Nope," he replied. "Bet you don't, either. You got all them spikes and shit. And I bet you weren't married, either. You got that son and all..."
"Oh, I got money," Benji replied. "I play music."
"Well THERE'S a productive career," his father, rolling his eyes. Benji ignored him.
"You said you lost some kids... what happened?"
"I lost 'em," the man said simply. "Don't wanna talk about it, though."
"Come on," Benji said, his eyes beginning to water for the millionth time that week. "Why don't you tell me about 'em."
"Well, there's nothing really..."
"Tell me about Josh - he was the oldest, wasn't he? Smart, too. Tell me about Benji and Joel. They were twins - looked just like you, didn't they? You couldn't tell them apart, but you knew Benji was always the one to screw up. And what about Sarah? Your daughter? You never really got to know her. Come on, John, tell me how you fucking left them one day - CHRISTMAS FUCKING EVE - and never came back. Tell me!!" Benji tried to wipe the tears from his eyes. The expression on his father's face had changed from dull to surprise and question.
"What the hell...?" he began.
"Yeah, nice to see you again too, dad," Benji muttered. "Surprised?" John squinted at him to study him more closely.
"Well... you're Benji!"
Benji looked at his father, surprised, but still angry. How could he know that HE was Benji? And why did it take him so long to realize that they were related?
"Yeah," John said. "You ARE Benji."
"Damn fucking straight," Benji replied, lighting another cigarette. It took him a couple of minuets to get it to light, though, because his hands were shaking from a mixture of rage and nervousness.
"How are you, son?" he questioned.
"I said don't call me son," Benji said.
"I know that," John replied. "I figured I could now, though, cause... seein' as how you ARE my son and everything..."
"I'm not your son," Benji said. "And you aren't my father."
"Still a little pissed about me leavin'?" he asked.
"Oh, a little," Benji said, rolling his eyes, shakily bringing his cigarette to his mouth.
"Anyway, how are you?" John questioned. "What have you been up to?"
Benji rolled his eyes. "You don't get it!" he yelled. "You left when I was 16! What the fuck were you thinking? And now you want to talk to me like nothing ever happened? Seriously, John - what the flying fuck did you expect?"
While it was a serious accusation and Benji's tone was definitely nothing to laugh at, John seemed slightly unfazed by it.
"I was a little low on cash," he replied. "You know how that goes."
"Yeah," Benji answered, his voice still loud with rage. "I do."
"I felt a little ashamed that I couldn't bring you and your brothers and sister much money, and I figured you would be better off without me."
"Wow," Benji said in pretend marvel. "A lot of help THAT did."
John frowned. "What?" he questioned. "What do you mean?"
"You left us with NO money - and an eviction notice. And we were a lot worse off but... no. Now that you mention it, maybe we DID to better without you. And I'm STILL better off without you. Joel and I make plenty of money, and Josh - Josh helps us out. We give money to mom and Sarah and - you know what? Never mind. All these long fucking years I've wanted to just yell at you and tell you that you fucked us all over, but now I don't see you being worthy of my time. You know why? Because I see how you are and I see how I am, and now I realize that me being better than you is more than enough for me." Out of breath and still shaking, Benji stood up, kicked his still half full bottle over and listened to the glass shatter on the pavement, and straightened his black bondage pants out.
"Now, if you'd excuse me, I'll be going to see some one." He paused. "Have a nice life," he muttered, slightly sarcastic.
The front doors flew open and Joel stepped outside. Benji laughed to himself and shook his head.
"How fucking perfect," he muttered to himself. Joel looked at him curiously.
"Shannon wanted to know where you went," he announced. "She said you left a little suddenly... who's that?"
Benji looked back at John, who was staring up at the two of them. "That's a man I never want to see again in my life."
Joel frowned. "Who is he?" he asked.
"Joel. Think about it... that's dad." Joel looked over at John and frowned slightly.
"Hey, Joel," John said, not nervous at all.
"You fucking bastard..." Joel muttered, brushing past Benji to him. Benji laughed and opened the doors to walk back inside, listening as Joel questioned the stranger outside.
------
Benji had left so suddenly, and Makena didn't know if or when he would be back. She thought maybe he would - she knew his father had left and he never wanted to be anything like him. But... he left in such a hurry...
And then there was Gavin. How could he be gone? He was only six. Why, God? Why take this precious little boy away? What had he ever done to deserve it? It wasn't his time yet!
A soft knock came from the door and shattered all thought's that had been racing through her mind. She half expected to see Aaron, who had left only minutes before, but she found Paul once she bothered to look up. He was standing in the door frame, looking slightly uncomfortable in his t-shirt and jeans. He was playing with his hoodie, which was between his two hands.
Makena looked away, but didn't completely ignore him. She wasn't angry at him - but she was, and she didn't blame him - but in a way, she did. She knew it wasn't Paul's fault that her son died, but it was easier to blame him, because he was solid and God is an unknown force that's just so much harder to blame.
"Hi," Paul said, his voice slightly hoarse and broken. Makena could tell he had cried a couple of times.
"Hi," she responded, looking at the opposite wall. Paul invited himself into her room and pulled a chair up to her bedside. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, playing with his hands so they appeared as if he were praying. He glanced around for a while, looking at her casted leg and tear streaked face.
"Makena," Paul began, choosing his words. "Makena - I am soooo sorry."
"It's... it wasn't your fault," Makena managed, emotionless.
"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Paul questioned. "I've been told so many times - I don't believe it anymore the first time as I do this time."
Makena sighed and looked at him. He was sort of pale - he had been suffering as much as she had. Perhaps a little less, of course, but he had to spend every waking day, unsure if she would live or die.
Neither of them said anything for a while as Makena contemplated her next sentence.
"Billy told me you tried to kill yourself," she said. Paul looked up at her. He didn't know what to say.
"Umm... yeah..." he said slowly. "I did."
Makena nodded and paused. "What did it feel like?" she questioned. Paul frowned and studied her face. Her eyes were beginning to water again, and he could tell she was trying to hide her emotions. Her lip quivered a little as she sniffed.
'Fuck damnit...' he thought. "Don't think about it, Makena," he commanded.
"I didn't say..."
"Don't fucking do it," Paul said again, gently but firmly shaking her shoulders. Makena closed her eyes as some tears fell, and she shook her head.
"What's the point, Paul?" she questioned. "What is there? What do I have left?"
"Let's see..." Paul began. "There's Benji - I know he feels something for you. And Billy, and me even. Aaron, Joel. Hell, even your sister and your dad." Paul paused. "Don't think about it. It's selfish and stupid."
"I guess..." Makena began, trying to wipe some tears from her face.
"Okay," Paul said. "Promise?"
She hesitated, but nodded. "Yeah," she replied. "I promise."
"Good," Paul said, beginning to smile. "I wouldn't be much of an Antipholus without my wife..."
Makena laughed slightly. "I forgot about that," she admitted.
"Hug?" Paul questioned. Makena nodded and smiled, sitting up slightly so Paul could wrap his arms around her.
"Please."