Damaged Part Four


Orli sniffed and sniffed again. What was that smell? He rubbed at his eyes and looked around for a possible source, and then it hit him. Smoke. Cigarette smoke and that meant only one thing…

"Elijah, you little bastard, are you lighting up those filthy things up again?" He stormed into the bedroom, grabbed the stick from between still stained fingers and threw it out the window, all before he’d finished the sentence.

Elijah sat perched on the edge of a cupboard, head half out of the open window, like a kid caught with his hand in the sweetie jar. Guilty look on his face, lips sealed tight.

"What is it with you? You have bloody cancer and you’re still smoking."

Elijah didn’t move.

"You want to smoke so you will, sod any affects it’ll have and sod the fact it’s my flat," Orli planted his feet firmly in front of Elijah, hands on hips, preparing himself for a long, long lecture. "You don’t care about your own health or if you make the place stink, even though you know how much I hate it."

Elijah started to go red in the face.

"But oh no, you want to smoke. Sod it if we both get some terrible lung disease. Haven’t we had enough illness in this flat?" he stared hard at Elijah. "What’s the matter, can’t you even bring yourself to say sorry?"

Elijah screwed his eyes up tight but then gave up the fight. His, "Sorry," came out with a large mouthful of smoke and a hacking cough that turned his face an odd tinge of green.

Orli slapped his back: hard. "I told you it’s not good for you to smoke."

"I know, I’m sorry. I…" the rest was lost in another wave of coughing. Orli slapped him again and Elijah reached for an open can of coke. He took a long swig praying there’d be no more slapping whilst his mouth was full.

"Then why do it? Are you that shit scared about the results or is it to prove a point?" Orli crossed his arms over his chest, looking like an old fashioned headmaster.

"No, it’s…" Elijah pulled a face and then grinned shyly, twisting the can between his fingers.

"What?"

"It’s your fault!" he suddenly blurted out.

"Me?" Orli looked positively taken aback. "What have I done?"

"Yeah, it’s your fault," Elijah warmed to his subject, putting the can back on the bedside table and reaching automatically for the cigarette packet, then he stopped before flicking the lid open and closed absently. "Things have changed, you’ve changed and… I’m confused…you make me confused and… nervous." His eyes flicked quickly towards Orli, a self-deprecating smile on his lips. "And when I’m nervous I smoke. Sorry, but there it is. A ciggie is the only thing that calms me down when I feel like that."

"I make you confused and nervous?" Orli asked puzzled. "How the hell did I manage that?"

"It’s… I…" Elijah scratched at his head and then started ripping at the thin card of the packet in his hand, twisting on his precarious seat.

"What?" Orlando asked.

"I…" He came to a stop again and then looked up, letting out a long breath, he started decisively for a second time. "You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before, I don’t understand you, I…"

"You don’t understand me?" Orli interrupted. "Oh now that’s rich, I have no bloody idea about you. You turn up here all… odd, acting peculiar and I have no idea what you’re doing half the time and…"

"I’m odd?" It was Elijah’s turn to interrupt. "What about you? One minute your shouting at me and telling me to fuck off and the next you’re saying I can stay and being nice as pie, helping me out, making me laugh and…" Now he’d started he couldn’t seem to stop it all flooding out. "You’ve changed since I’ve been in the hospital, but you still watch me as though you’re checking I don’t steal anything."

"I don’t!"

"You do and you have this tone in your voice. It makes me…" he searched around for a word. "Nervous. You make me nervous ‘cos I don’t understand." At last Elijah came to a halt.

"I don’t watch you to see if you’re gonna seal anything," Orli said more softly. "I’ve never done that."

"But you do watch me, like you’re… like you’re judging me. Then you’ll be really nice and it’s unnerving."

Orli flopped back into the chair, ignoring the pile of cloths careless dumped on it. "I make you nervous?" he said softly. "I’ve never made anyone nervous before."

"Well you do me," Elijah smiled shyly. "And when I’m nervous I smoke. Sorry."

"I don’t like the idea I make anyone nervous," Orli thought about the concept. "How do I stop?"

"I don’t know," Elijah pulled at the cigarette box again, as if he had to keep his hands occupied. "Like I said, I’ve never met anyone like you and I don’t understand your reactions."

"What the hell’s the matter with my reactions?" Orli laughed incredulously.

Elijah shrugged, his shoulders almost reaching his ears, before he slouched back against the wall. "With most people I know how they work, what they’re gonna do, but with you…" his eyes flicked over to Orli. "I don’t know about you and I don’t know what to do or say. I know I make you angry sometimes, but often I don’t know why. Then you’ll do something nice and… I don’t understand that either. I feel like I’m walking on egg shells and I’m not very good at handling it."

Elijah’s chin came up, a hint of defiance or maybe self-preservation on his face. "I don’t know what you want from me Orli."

"What I want from you?" Orli asked, at a loss. "I don’t want anything from you."

Elijah was still for a long moment, carefully watching Orli. "Don’t you? Because if you really mean that then I’m truly fucked. Everybody wants something, there’s always a payback. You take me completely into the realms of the unknown," he shook his head and laughed, the sound low. "And when I’m there I really need a cigarette."

Orli rubbed at his head before coming to a decision. "Let’s just take it that I don’t want anything from you and you don’t have to worry about it. And," he waved a hand around vaguely. "If you do decide to get nervous for some reason, you find something to do or, better still, we can go for a few games of pool. What do you think, competition instead of nicotine?"

Elijah raised an eyebrow. "Whatever. If it makes you happy I’ll give it a go."

"And no more smoking?"

"I’m not giving up for good," Elijah cried indignantly.

"Okay, compromise. No smoking till we get the results and, no matter what, no smoking in the flat?"

"Maybe."

"Elijah!"

"Okay," Elijah grinned. "Not before the results and not in the flat."

It was silent for a long moment as Orli thought, chewing softly at the inside of his cheek. "And, how about I try and get rid of the tone in my voice and stop judging and you stop being an irritating little bugger?"

"Deal," Elijah agreed quickly, a genuine smile on his face.

"Good," Orli said without a hint of a amusement. "Because I could really do without you getting lung cancer as well."



+


And the waiting went on and on and on. Endless days with nothing to do but brood and mope. Too much time to imagine all sorts of appalling out comes. As Elijah felt better Orli encouraged him to go out during the day: to the cinema, the park, even the supermarket. One day he made the effort to meet Orli for lunch.

At the weekend they went to a local pub and ate outside, sitting in a flower-covered oasis surrounded by the noise of inner city London. Afterwards they wandered around a few shops before going home with a rented video.

They talked, they ate, they laughed, they annoyed the hell out of each other but all the time they waited. They waited for the test results.


+


Then it was Friday afternoon again and they were back waiting for the doctor and the results that could make all the difference. Elijah had been to have more blood taken, gone for another scan, been prodded and poked and now it was the moment of truth, sitting facing the doctor again across her desk.

Elijah couldn’t seem to think straight, couldn’t seem to get his mind to concentrate on the words. He watched as the doctor’s mouth opened and closed, watched her lips rounding and flattening as she formed the words, he could even hear a garbled sound but somehow he couldn’t make it form into meaningful sentences.

The doctor seemed to be saying something really important, her eyes focused on Elijah but still…

He felt Orli’s hand on his arm and turned instinctively to look at the other man. Orli’s face was soft, his eyes warm, a small smile on his lips. "That’s good news, isn’t it?" Orli seemed to know that Elijah hadn’t taken it in. "They caught it really early, it hasn’t spread anywhere and it was the most easily treatable type of cancer." Elijah still looked bewildered. "It’s all good news, the best we could have hoped for."

The best we could have hoped for. Orli said it was good news – Elijah clung onto that fact for dear life. Orli said it was good news. He hooked his fingers around the edge of Orli’s jacket, tightening them until his knuckles went white. Orli said it was good news.

"So what happens now?" Orli asked the doctor.

She started talking again, a tumble of big words that Elijah didn’t understand. But Orli seemed to know and Orli was listening and… Orli said it was good news.

"Well, that has to be the best thing to do. You say the treatment can start next week?" Orli looked at the doctor who nodded as she consulted a raft of papers in front of her.

"We’ve pencilled you in for the first session on Monday, that’s all right isn’t it Elijah?" The doctor looked at him expectantly.

Elijah looked at Orli.

"For the radiation treatment, to make sure there are no cancer cells left," Orli said gently.

"But you said it was good news. Haven’t they got rid of all the cancer?"

"It is good news and they probably have got rid of it all. This is just to make sure."

"So what are they gonna do?"

The doctor looked at Orli, frowning slightly, but he ignored her, concentrating on Elijah. "Give you short, sharp burst of radiation to the surrounding area. It won’t hurt and the side effects aren’t too bad."

"How many bursts?"

"In your case fifteen is the recommended amount," the doctor said.

"Fifteen? What all in one go?" Elijah looked back and forward between Orli and the doctor.

"No," she said. "One each day with the weekend off for your body to recover."

"But that’s…" Elijah did the maths. "That’ll take three weeks."

"Is that a problem?" The doctor asked.

Three weeks. That was a long time.

"I dunno, I need to think. What happens if I don’t have it?"

"Elijah!" Orli exploded. "Of course you’re gonna have it, don’t be bloody stupid."

"It has to be Elijah’s decision," The doctor said firmly, glancing in Orli’s direction. "If you don’t have it done you have to go on a very strict surveillance regime. It means lots of tests for years to come."

"But not every day?"

"No, not every day."

"And it doesn’t have to be at this hospital, I could have the tests anywhere?"

"Yes, I suppose so although it would be better if it was always at the same hospital."

"Elijah, what the hell does it matter about that? You need to have the radiation to make sure." Orli tried hard to rein in his anger but it wasn’t easy. "This is your life we’re talking about here."

"I," Elijah ignored Orli and looked at the doctor. "I need to think."

"As you wish. If you decide to go ahead with the radiation on Monday you need to ring us by six this evening. You can postpone it but the quicker it’s done, the better."


+


Orli all but slammed the door as they got back to the flat. Gone were any thoughts of celebrating the good news. Now all he wanted to do was shake Elijah and… He wasn’t quite sure what else but shaking seemed a bloody good start right then.

Elijah sat perched on the edge of the sofa, jacket still on, arms wrapped tight around himself as he listened to Orli swearing and banging things around in the kitchen. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to go in there, all he wanted to do was sit right where he was and stare into space. But sooner or later he had to face things and it would probably be better if he did it before Orli broke all the plates.

He made his way slowly to the kitchen and stood, just inside the door, waiting to see what his reception would be. "Orlando," he didn’t really know what else to say.

"What?" Orli threw a quick glare in his direction. "If you want any dinner you can make it yourself." Orli knew he was being petty and childish but he couldn’t seem to help it.

"It’s all right, I’m not hungry."

"You’re always bloody hungry and anyway you should eat, you need to build yourself up. The doctor said that…" Orli ground to a halt, eyes still blazing.

"I’m sorry if I’ve annoyed you, I only want to do what’s best," Elijah said softly.

"What’s best?" Orli’s tone was angry and condescending at the same time. "You think giving the cancer a chance to come back is ‘what’s best’?"

"Don’t be cross, I…"

"I’m not fucking cross," Orli shouted. "I just…" He turned away from Elijah, throwing the packet of pasta he held in his hand towards the sink.

"You what?" Elijah asked softly.

Slowly, carefully Orli turned back round. His face was tight, a whole world of emotions only just held in check. "I am not going to watch you die. I know I have no right to pressure you but I just can’t do it again. If that’s your decision, you’ll have to leave, now."

"You want me to go right this minute?" Elijah asked dismayed.

"No, I don’t want you to go but I have to protect myself."

Elijah didn’t seem to hear the end of the sentence; all he could focus on was the beginning. "I don’t have to go," he whispered to himself.

Only Orli hadn’t finished. "I can’t sit here day in day out waiting to see if you get sick. I’ll be watching you all the time, watching and waiting, every time you get an ache or a pain. Every time you take a piss I’ll be watching your face when you come out to check if you’ve found another lump. I can’t fucking do it Elijah. I’d go absolutely nuts."

Orli’s anger seemed to ease a little as he poured out the torrent of words. He took a deep breath in through his nose, blew it out slowly through his mouth and looked Elijah square in the eye. "If you don’t want to have the radiation then you’ll…"

"But I do want to have it," Elijah interrupted him.

"What?"

"I do want the radiation treatment. I can’t stand the thought that there might be cancer still in me. I wanna nuke every little motherfucker."

"Then why the hell did you say no?" Orli asked incredulous.

"Because," Elijah stopped for a moment, face white as a sheet. "Because it takes three weeks and you said you wanted me gone after the first appointment. I’ve outstayed my welcome already."

"You stupid little bugger," Orli said, shaking his head. He went to the fridge caught hold of a beer and drank half of it in one long swallow. He turned back to face Elijah and blew out another long breath.

"You have to understand some things. If I want you to go, I’ll tell you. We’re well past me doing my mum a favour by taking you in and I have no qualms about kicking you out, cancer or no cancer. When I said I wanted you to leave you’d pissed me off by making a fool of me and my friends and I won’t have that. I mean it Elijah, you are not going to fuck around with my life. Do you understand?"

Elijah nodded.

"So let’s get this straight, I can’t stop you screwing with whoever you want but you don’t do it with any of my friends. Ever. Agreed?"

Elijah nodded.

"And you never, ever, under any circumstances pull that come-fuck-me shit on me again. You want something you open your mouth, not to fill it with my cock, but to ask for it. Agreed?"

Again Elijah nodded.

"You have to mean that. I’m not playing any more games and I can’t be always on my guard with you. There can’t be any tricks or you’re out, all right?"

"All right," Elijah said quietly.

Orli knocked back the rest of the beer. "Then stay and get the treatment done." He reached over and grabbed the phone, lobbing it in Elijah’s direction. "Call the hospital, now."


+


Elijah’s treatment didn’t actually start for another few days. The Monday appointment tuned out to be a simulation session during which they took scans and x-rays to determine where the radiation should be applied, marked up his body so it could be aligned each time and fitted him with a cover that would be used to protect his healthy testicle. The treatment sessions started two days later.

After the initial one he felt very little effect at first then, a couple of hours later, a bone weary tiredness kicked in and he was in bed by nine o’clock. A few days later the tiredness was making it hard for him to get up in the morning and the overwhelming nausea started.

Orli would phone him from work an hour before he was due to go to the hospital and remind Elijah to take his anti-sickness medication. As the nausea got worse Elijah didn’t need to be reminded but, somehow, he always managed to forget to tell Orli.

Sometime in the middle of the second week they developed a kind of a routine. By the time Orli got in from work Elijah would be asleep on the sofa, a bucket on the floor next to him. On good days it would be empty. Orli would make dinner and Elijah would wake up in time to say he didn’t want any. Orli would stare at him, a no-nonsense look in his eye, and tell him he was going to eat it whether he wanted it or not.

The doctor had said that Elijah needed to eat healthily to aid his body’s efforts to repair itself. Orli would buy wholesome, fresh and hopefully appetising food each day and Elijah was going to eat it, even if he had to force it down his throat.

Elijah usually managed most of it.

Later they would either watch a movie, fight over the playstation, argue about something on the news or even go out for a drink with a few of Orli’s friends. Elijah’s favourite time was when they would sit at opposite ends of the sofa, feet up on the coffee table, both deep in their own book. Those were nice times.


+


"That you Orlando?" Elijah called early one evening from the bathroom, after the front door was slammed so hard the whole flat shook.

"Who the fuck else is it gonna be?" Orli barked, throwing his keys and jacket in the corner of the hall as he headed for the kitchen. He needed a beer and he needed it now.

"Someone’s in a good mood," Elijah said and then threw up again, his head held over the toilet bowl.

"What’s the matter with you?" Orli shouted along the hall.

"Cancer, remember? I’m sick," Elijah gave a pathetic, theatrical cough, the sound echoing through the flat.

"Tosser. I meant is it anything other than the normal radiation puking?"

"Nah, just the normal. It’s almost over now." He leant back against the side of the bath. The coolness felt good against his spine. He looked up, eyes dancing with pretend pathos as he heard Orli walking back down the hall. "Fucking hell, what happened to you?" he asked, his voice full of surprise.

Orli stood in the doorway, hands on hips defiant, but his tie was crooked, his shirt ripped, his eye bloodied and his lip swollen. "It’s nothing," He mumbled.

"That’s nothing?"

"I got in a bit of a fight, it’s no big deal."

"Who with?"

"Just some little bastard."

"If he was only a little bastard you must be really crap at fighting," Elijah went to get up and have a better look, but the wave of nausea that hit him forced him back down. "How’s he looking? Did you do much damage?"

"How the hell should I know," Orli turned on his heels, heading back out.

"Orli," Elijah crawled on his hands and knees over to the door and called up the corridor. "Come back, you need to clean that."

"What and have you take the piss a bit more? You bastard."

"Why are you shouting at me? I didn’t hit you," Elijah tried really hard to keep the laughter out of his voice but it was so, so hard.

"You also didn’t clean up the bloody mess in here either," Orli carried on the conversation down the hall way. "Jesus Elijah, do you have to use every plate and knife to make one poxy sandwich? There aren’t even any clean glasses."

"There aren’t any clean glasses because some moron broke the last two on Saturday and won’t buy any more." Elijah could feel his own anger trying to rise but failing. "The same moron who said we had plenty of washing powder left. Only there isn’t, so now I have dirty, sweaty sheets."

"You could always go out and get some washing powder yourself," Orli shouted.

"I did," Elijah shouted right back. "And new glasses. They’re in the bag on the table."

"Well, why didn’t you put them in the bleeding cupboard?"

"Because I was too busy puking on the spare sheets!"

It all went quiet in the kitchen.

After a long minute Orli headed back towards the bathroom, second beer in hand. He didn’t offer Elijah any.

"Sit," Elijah pointed at the edge of the bath then crawled over to the sink, found a flannel and rinsed it with cool water. He crawled back and, sitting on his heels, looked critically at Orli’s face.

There was a cut above his right eye; a nasty scrape at the top of his cheekbone and his top lip had swollen. It wasn’t pretty, but then it wasn’t that bad either. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Orli held up his hand. The skin on his knuckles was tattered and torn, oozing thick red blood around the fast forming scabs. "So maybe you did get at least one decent punch in," he smiled. "Anywhere else?"

Orli shook his head.

Slowly, gently Elijah wiped Orli’s face, making sure that each wound was dirt free and clean before applying a little antiseptic cream. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asked gently.

"Had a fight." Orli’s voice was sulky, almost petulant. Elijah suppressed a smile.

"I’d kind figured that out. Who with?"

Orli went quiet and still. It wasn’t until Elijah had stared long and hard that Orli broke and answered.

"With Mason, that idiot across the hall, and before you say anything the bastard deserved it."

"Orli," Elijah sounded almost disappointed with him. "The guy is out to wind you up, he always is. Why can’t you just ignore him?"

"Because now the bastard is letting water get into my garage from his."

"So?" Elijah turned his attention to Orli’s bloodied hand, stroking back torn skin where necessary, pushing it over the scrapes where possible. "You hardly ever go in there, you told me it’s full of junk. Why do you care?"

This time when Orli went still it wasn’t in a defensive or guilty way. He was contemplative, almost… Elijah couldn’t pin it down at first but then he felt it. Orli was sad.

"Orlando?" He asked gently.

"It’s full of Shane’s junk."

"Oh, I’m sorry," and Elijah genuinely was. "Is anything damaged?"

"I don’t think so. I went in there and it all… it smelt damp and… old, like no one wanted it and…" Orli ran out of words.

"You want it. Of course you do." Elijah rubbed the last of the antiseptic cream into Orli’s hand and sat back. "So we’ll have to get it sorted. It’s Saturday tomorrow, I get a couple of days off, which means we can go and make sure everything’s all right. Pack it up properly and make sure it’s watertight. Then we’ll deal with Mason."

"I don’t want to deal with him, I want to punch his lights out."

"You tried that," Elijah smiled. "Did it work?"

"Well… I didn’t really punch him, I…" Orli reached for the flannel, rinsed it, and mopped at the tiny smear of vomit at the edge of Elijah’s mouth.

"Come on," Elijah encouraged. "What happened?"

"I kinda pushed him, he pushed back, only harder and…"

"And?" Elijah prompted, grinning openly.

"I slid and smacked into the wall."

"My god, you hero!"

"I know. I’m a bleeding idiot," Orli smiled, but then it drooped. "But he’s a bastard. I know he’s doing it on purpose to get at me, I know that, but… It’s Shane’s stuff."

"And that makes it special and worth saving. So we’ll save it. Only not by trying to act like a Neanderthal, let’s face it neither of us is really built for it. There are other ways to get through to someone like him." Elijah thought about it for a second. "We could post fish heads through his letter box."

Orli looked startled but then, almost reluctantly, grinned. "Or feed his dog something that gives it diarrhoea?"

"I didn’t think you were allowed dogs in these flats."

"Try telling Mason that."

"You could get his daughter pregnant."

"Oh please," Orli laughed. "Even if I wasn’t gay I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Besides she’s only twelve."

"Okay, we’ll hire a mafia hit man."

"You know many of them?"

"Nah, but I bet between us we could find one."

They both smiled, calmness restored once more. After a long pause Orli spoke quietly. "Sorry."

Elijah’s eyes flicked up. "What for?"

"You’ve had a bitch of a day. Radiation, puking, me…"

Elijah smiled. "I’ve had worse and anyway its not so bad… today’s my birthday."

Orli stared open mouthed. "Your birthday? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?"

"No point. I’ve never done much on my birthday."

"You should have said."

"I can’t see why, I …" But Orli was up on his feet and out of the room. A few minutes later he was back, hands hidden behind him, a pink colour on his cheeks.

"Happy birthday." He twisted one hand round and offered Elijah a small bottle of beer the top already off. "It can’t hurt to have just one, seeing as it’s your birthday."

"No one actually said I couldn’t have alcohol; it’s only you that’s come up with that rule. I can’t…" Elijah looked up at Orli and shut up. "Thank you." He took the beer.

"And you have to have this as well." Orli’s other hand appeared holding a chocolate mini roll with a blue striped candle stuck in the top.

"What is it?"

"A birthday cake, you idiot."

"Elijah smiled, his grin as wide as an ocean. "I’ve never had a birthday cake before."

"Everybody’s had a birthday cake, you just can’t remember it," Orli said sitting down next to Elijah, back against the side of the bath.

"I haven’t." Elijah took the cake and, holding it reverentially in his hands, looked at it from all sides. "Shall I blow the candle out?"

"Either that or let it burn your fingers. Just don’t forget to make a wish."

Elijah looked startled. "What should I wish for?"

"Oh I don’t know, I could probably think of one or two things you could try."

Elijah’s eyes flicked over to Orli, quick and full of something Orli couldn’t quite catch. "I know," he said quietly and blew out the flame.

They sat like that for a long moment, watching the smoke curl up from the tip of the candle. "How old are you?" Orli suddenly asked.

"Twenty three as of a couple of hours ago."

"Funny, I thought you were younger than that. At least it isn’t an important birthday like your eighteenth or twenty first. What did you do for that one?"

Elijah put his birthday cake on the edge of the bath, careful to make sure it wouldn’t fall. "My twenty first? I got fucked by the man who came round to cut the gas off." He felt Orli flinch. "It was all right, at least I stayed warm."

Orli slipped his arm around Elijah’s shoulder and gently pulled him in till the dark head rested on his shoulder.

Part Five