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Kingsley Page 4
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Page 4
I drove to work in a fog; the guys were already there and elbow deep in ink by the time I walked in. There were three people sitting in chairs and I looked to my phone to see why nobody had called. I had three missed calls; all from the shop.
“Where you been?” Kayson asks as I walk in. I go right to my chair and start my setup; my mind on Morgan. When everything is out and ready, I go to the front to ask Layla, what we’ve got. She hands me the sign in that says consult. Her name is Fae and she’s looking for a big back piece.
“What’d you have in mind?” I asked, as I did all of our clients.
“This.” She says, handing me a page out of a gaming book. There was a fairy, a dragon and what looks like a magical kingdom. It was a gorgeous picture and it was going to be detailed as hell. This was going to take a lot of hours and it was going to be a lot of color.
“Did you want it just like this? Colors and all?” I ask.
“Yes, I want the black and purple’s and see where the trees and the lake here? I was hoping to get a reflection of the stars and clouds and stuff mirrored in the lake, but I want it to look, “lakey”. Do you know what I mean?” She asked. I did. It was a big fantasy world and she wanted it on her back.
“Okay, I can do that. It’s going to be expensive and take several sessions over a course of several weeks. That good with you? I don’t want to start it and not complete it, ya know?” I asked, making sure this was what she wanted.
“Absolutely. I want it.” She says, confidently.
“Great. Do you want to come sit back here and I can get some notes on what you want me to incorporate and how you want everything to be? I can draw something up and set up a next appointment and we can get started as soon as I have an opening. That good?” I asked and she agreed. She followed me back and we talked the details for over an hour. She was a sweet, little thing; young but mature, I had no doubt she knew what she was getting and she wouldn’t be one of the ones who’d regret it in a year or two. The next lady was more simple; she wanted a music note, behind her ear. I could draw that up and be done in twenty minutes. The next one was my appointment and he settled me in for the rest of the afternoon. Needing an intricate back piece of a warzone and memorials for three fallen brothers; I took my time and care with this one, more so than I normally would. He told me stories of his time overseas and how he was just back for several months on R&R. By the time he’d left, it was well after dark and I thanked him for his service and hoped that I saw him again. I told him to stop in when he got back from his next deployment, I wanted to see how he was holding up. He’d driven 133 miles to get inked by me. If that didn’t make a person feel good, I don’t know what would.
Even though my mind was on my work the majority of the time, I still found myself thinking about Morgan. I hated that he was alone and might be sick or lonely. I really wished I had given him my number but I didn’t want to seem pushy after he literally just broke up with his longtime partner. How skeevy would that make me? Instead, I overheard Kayson talking about taking dinner to the librarian, so I invited myself along. I needed a distraction and watching my brother moon over a guy was perfect.
A couple days later, my sister Kadence and I were at the grocery store, looking for something to cook for dinner tonight. She wanted corndogs and I wanted real food. Kadence came to our house after school a couple times during the week and she hung out until her mom got off of work. Jody was home tonight but Kayson was spending time with Conner, his new obsession; so it looks like I was cooking real food for Jody and me and corndogs for this little pipsqueak. I was listening to her try to talk me into letting her get a dog for our house, for the thirteenth time in two days, when I rounded a corner and mowed someone over.
“Shit! Sorry! Fuck!” I said while grabbing hold of the person I’d rammed my big body into.
“Bubby! You cussed!” Kadence exclaimed, gleefully.
“I’m oh…” I stopped when I realized that the person I’d run down, was Morgan. The guy that’d not left my mind since I met him, rather unconventionally, days ago. “Morgan.” I say softly, checking to make sure I didn’t hurt him.
“Kingsley.” He says just as softly.
“I’m Kady!” Kadence introduces herself, not realizing the moment I was hoping we were just having.
“Nice to meet you, Kady.” Morgan smiles a small smile.
“This is Kady, my little sister. Kady, this is Morgan.” I introduce them and they both smile. Morgan looks clammy and pale. He looks like he might fall over at the slightest nudge.
“You okay?” I have to ask, he looks bad. He’s got dark circles around his bloodshot eyes and his face is devoid of any healthy color.
“I’m good.” He says, too quickly. Even if I did believe his words, his appearance doesn’t lie.
“You look like you might not feel well.” I counter. He shifts from one foot to another.
“Do you like corndogs?” Kady asks in her little Georgian twang. “Bubby says it aint real food, but we’re having it for dinner tonight. What do you think goes with corndogs?” She voices every thought.
“Green beans?” He asks, looking hopeful.
“Yuck!” She giggles.
“Peas?” He tries again, smiling when she laughs again and shakes her head.
“Pudding!” He tries for excited but she only scrunches her nose.
“You eat pudding, with corndogs?” She asks.
“No, but I haven’t eaten a corndog for a long time. Maybe it’s good?” He tries but she still disagrees.
“If you don’t have a vegetable, how about a fruit?” He suggests.
“I like strawberries and grapes.” She says. “But not together.”
“Hmmm, well maybe some grapes then. That doesn’t sound bad.” He relents and looks to me with a smile. They’ve seem to come to an agreement.
“It looks like we’re having corndogs and grapes.” I smile at them both before an idea springs to mind. “Would you like to join us? I have Kady here for a couple more hours before her mama picks her up, I’ve been told, we’re pretty good company.” I ask, hopefully tempting him. He gives me a sad smile.
“I’m afraid, I wouldn’t be much company tonight. I’m feeling kind of tired.” He says, seemingly regretful. I know that shouldn’t make me feel good; that he at least, maybe, wanted to, but I can’t help but want to spend time with him. I have this overwhelming need to make sure he’s okay. At first, I thought maybe it was because I was partly the reason that he might not, be okay. But, the more I thought about it, him, the more I realized that it had nothing to do with guilt or obligation; I just thought about him throughout the day and it’d been a long time since I’d someone pry their way into my thoughts like that. Of course, I also did want him to be okay and I knew that he wasn’t; still…. I wanted to keep an eye on him.
“Okay, well; I’m going to give you my number and if you need anything at all, I want you to call me. Okay?” I asked, already pulling out a card for the shop. It has the shop number on it as well as our website info; but I leaned down and borrowed a pencil from Kady’s backpack and wrote my number on the back. He took it, and stuffed it into his back pocket before taking a deep breath and attempted another smile. His face was pinched like he was in pain so I figured I’d stop taking up his time. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but standing in the aisle of a grocery store.
“You sure you don’t need help?” I ask.
“I’m sure, I’m just going to go ahead and check out. It was nice bumping into you.” He said with a teasing smile. “Nice you meet you, Kady. Enjoy your corndogs.” He said with a smile.
“Bye!” She waved as we both watched him walk away. Kady and I finished our shopping trip and hauled our ridiculously unhealthy dinner choice to the truck. There wasn’t a quiet moment on the way home but still, I couldn’t stop myself from remembering how tired and pale Morgan looked. Seemed like thinking about him was all I’d done since I’d met him and it was driving me crazy.
&nbs
p; “Where you going?” I asked Jody, as we made it home, just as he was leaving. He was dressed in nice jeans and a nice, short-sleeved, polo. His chest looked ripped and his inked up, colorful arms were on full display.
“I have a meeting down at the children’s home. They’re interested in a mural on their back wall, overlooking the play area and garden. I volunteered.” He tells me. I wonder why this is the first I’m hearing about it.
“That’s awesome, Jody. Let me know how it goes, I’d love to help, if you need it.” I volunteer, myself. Even in California, Jody was always going to children’s hospitals, and group homes. He organized food and toy drives; visited orphanages and youth shelters. He may be a forever, bachelor, but, Jody Jameson had a heart of gold and I counted myself lucky to be part of his life.
“Thanks, man. I’m heading out.” He says, grabbing his keys and wallet off the table. “I’m leaving, Squirt!” He hollered at Kady and she hollered her goodbye, right after. He was smiling as he left.
Corndogs and grapes, weren’t too bad; I’d also bought cottage cheese and we had that and cherry tomatoes. I guess I’d settle for real food, tomorrow. I’d need to work out extra in the morning or go for a run after Kady left. After she helped me clean up dinner and we settled in to draw at the living room table; we paused a minute for her nightly call to, Kayson. He was spending more and more time with Conner and to tell you the truth; they were perfect for each other. I’d spent time with them several times and Conner was everything that my brother needed; I hoped it worked out between them, I’d not seen my brother this flustered or happy since long before we lost our mother to breast cancer less than a year ago.
Merissa came to collect Kady a little bit before eight. She was supposed to be off at 6:30, but something held her up; I didn’t mind, I loved spending time with her and now that Kayson was spending so much time with Conner, we had lots of time, just me and her. I had years to make up for. I know people think we’re crazy for uprooting our lives to be a part of this little girl’s life; but to Kayson and me, we didn’t have anything back in California holding us there. Sure, we had our friends, the people we called family… but we brought them with us, problem solved. None of us had anything worth staying for. We needed space away from our father and the heartbreak of losing our mom but most importantly, Kayson and I loved our little sister and she was an “only child” before meeting us; we needed to be a part of her life just as much as we needed her to be a part of ours.
After Kady and Merissa, left, I tried to hang around the house; sketching, cleaning, working out in the homemade, half-assed gym we’d put up in the one corner of the “man cave” we called a basement. It was only 8:45 and I was restless. I found myself wanting to kick my own ass for not getting Morgan’s number instead of giving him mine. I wanted to check on him, he looked so bad, earlier, so sick.
Without giving myself time to think; I grabbed my keys, phone and wallet and locked up the house. Before I’d given it too much thought, I was pulling into the parking lot behind the deli across from our shop.
“Hey, Mr. Bailey” I greeted as I walked in.
“Young man, Kennedy; how can I help you this evening?” The older man asked me with a smile. Someone from the shop made a daily trip to his deli at least once a day, sometimes more, since we’d opened the shop across the little, two lane street. Layla had an unhealthy fixation with his homemade, hot chocolate and I was quick to run across the street for his cold cut sandwiches and hot soup; plus, he and his wife were friendly and welcoming and Mr. Bailey and Mrs. Betsy from the other side of Conner’s shop were the first ones to welcome us to the neighborhood. A lot of people, especially older generations tended to shy away from me and my big, tattooed family; not on this block, and we all appreciated it more than they knew.
“Well, I was looking for something that might make someone feel better if they were sick.” I inquired, wondering whether or not this was a good idea.
“Oh, someone feeling under the weather today?” He asked, concerned. That’s Mr. and Mrs. Bailey; they were genuine like that.
“A friend of mine is undergoing treatment right now for a brain tumor. He looked bad when I saw him earlier so I wanted to bring him something to make him feel better.” I admit.
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry to hear that.” Mrs. Bailey says as she comes back in from the kitchen area in the back in full mother hen mode. “Carl, darlin’, fix up a tub of that chicken and white bean soup; that’ll coat the stomach. I’ll fix up a protein smoothie for you, do you reckon he likes peaches or strawberries?” She asks, already crushing the ice and grabbing the ingredients.
“Peach, I guess?” I guessed because it was something Kady had suggested earlier, along with grapes and he didn’t say anything about strawberries one way or another but he had picked the grapes, instead.
“Peach it is, then.” She smiled and got to work, as Mr. Bailey was ladling hot soup into a Styrofoam container. I watched him add crackers, but then take them out and add something else.
“I’ve noticed your brother over there taking an interest in our Conner, next door.” Mrs. Bailey smiles, knowingly.
“They’ve been spending some time together, yes.” I snicker at her obvious, intro-to-gossip.
“Well, I think they make a handsome couple.” Mr. Bailey tells me. Again, I’m shocked at their acceptance but overwhelmed by it at the same. “I’ve put some ginger biscuits in here, we’ve got some stocked up on account of Ms. Wilbux’ pregnancy and all. She stops in every morning for a smoothie and a biscuit. It helps with upset stomachs.” He smiles and hands me the made up sack, just as Mrs. Bailey brings over the protein smoothie she’d made for Morgan.
“Can I get you anything else dear? Some sandwiches? A cold beverage? I just made up a fresh gallon of tea.” She smiles and I accept a bottled water instead. No matter how long I live here, I’ll never get used to all the sugar they put in their tea. One glass and I’d be borderline diabetic.
I thank, Mr. and Mrs. Bailey and promise to see them in the next couple days and I make my way back to the truck. Good idea or not, I make my way to Morgan’s.
Chapter 6: Morgan
When I first started treatment, the nurses went over everything I should expect over the coming weeks or months. They told me things I already knew, like losing my hair and throwing up everything I attempt to even look at. One told me that I’d lose weight and be run down and tired, even after a simple task, like taking a shower or walking up several stairs. She also told me that there would be days where I’d think for certain I was about to die and there’d be days when I’d actually wish for it. Today, is one of those days.
My body is wracking with shivers but I can feel the coolness of the couch proving the fever I knew I had. It hurts. It hurts so much to move, even blinking feels like torture. I lie here and stare at the ceiling and wonder when the shakes will pass. I can hear my teeth chattering in the quietness of my home, reminding me once again how alone I am in all this. I try to pull the blanket up over my shoulders but it proves to be too painful. Instead, I roll to one side and try to curl in on myself; maybe it’ll pass.
I try not to think morbid thoughts because I read a book once on the power of positive thinking; but on days like today, it makes me wonder if I should worry about planning for my own funeral. There would be no one else to do it, should I not make it. I wouldn’t need a memorial or a service, really; there’d be no one to come. Stephen might, I guess, but, would I need a whole service for one man? That seems like a waste of time. There’d be no one to say a few kind words about the life I led or the people I touched; and there would be no one to hear it, if there was.
I wonder if I’d have anyone waiting on me, in heaven? A long lost grandparent or perhaps one of my parents? Would I even go there? Is there such a place? I always liked to believe so, I was a firm believer in God and I always thought that we had to take the bad in life so we could appreciate the good; but I was having a hard time finding any silver-lining right now.
Luckily, I hadn’t eaten at all, today, so making another mess in the middle of the floor wasn’t something I was worried about happening; still, my stomach was in knots, protesting my every move.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine. I wanted to imagine things that I might do after I got healthy again; like visit the ocean and paint it or finally ride a rollercoaster; I’d never done either of those things. I wanted a puppy; one that could play Frisbee and fetch. I’d always wanted one when I was younger but none of my foster homes had pets and Stephen never wanted one because they shed. He couldn’t get hair on his suit, that looks “middle-class and unkempt”; but now that he was gone, maybe I could get one. I also wondered why I didn’t feel bad that he was gone. I wasn’t sad or heartbroken, I didn’t feel betrayed, even though that’s exactly what he’d done; he’d betrayed my trust and our commitment to one another, but all I felt was alone. Alone and afraid that I’d die here on this couch and there’d be no one to care. I wondered who would find me and how long it would take before I was discovered?
A knock at the door made me jump in surprise and cry out from the pain of it. I thought for sure that the couch took my skin when I’d moved, but it did good to rip me out of the dark place, my thoughts had started to wonder. I contemplated getting up to answer it but I honestly didn’t think I had the energy to try. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to… I heard the door creek open, slowly and I closed my eyes in annoyance; only Stephen would walk in and really, I didn’t know anyone else. I had a couple acquaintances through the art word that I might consider friends, but none of them had ever been to my home.