Over-the-Counter Encounter
11. Progressing
The ignorant bug progressed. In its own natural intolerable way, the virus performed its progress as its program truly charted. The body, for its own part managed to take up the gauntlet and call for legions of white cells to attack the intruder. Suddenly the body was converting its lifelines to serum to combat the invader; but the hostility was such that any reproduction of the warrior white cell provided food and incubation for the retro-fiend. The virus attacked the little helper cells on the battleground; and soon, the body found itself vulnerable to all manner of invader, some who lived quietly and in-check within the bowels or the lungs without ever being more than a passing chore. Now, they all were virulent in their turn.
Matt did recover from this episode; however, he remained in the hospital for two more weeks, Dean continually at his side until the vacation was over; then, every evening until closing when work fired up again. Dean never discussed Danny with Matt. It remained a non-topic and would so forever.
Back on his feet, Matt returned to work; however, he was taking AZT, a drug that promised headaches, nausea and diarrhea nearly every day. The management at Axum Labs was very understanding. They accommodated Matt at every turn. Some of his colleagues were less supportive. Knowing that he had AIDS and not knowing anything about the disease, there was some protest on his return. Although there was education available to the doubtful, they clung to the belief that Matt had "God's punishment"; and the fire and brimstone of Sodom and Gomorrah would rain down on Axum Labs.
Then Matt was sick again. He had picked up a parasite that kept him constantly in the bathroom. Soon, he was back in a hospital bed. Dean once again was at his side giving orders to the nurses, who never got anything correct and who knew nothing about this disease. Of course, Dean did. He spent hours with members of the local support group and learned much about the causes, effects and care for AIDS patients. He spent many hours in training with that angel of organization - the Hyacinth Foundation - to learn how to care for Matt and to care for himself to prevent being infected.
So, while Matt was experiencing this second hospital ordeal, Dean had an awareness that made him very "smart." He was reading about new treatments and herbals that could help. He was constantly telling Matt that hope was here and the cures were just around the corner. Matt would just smile and hold Dean's hand trusting that his lover and governor knew best. Even when Dean yelled at the doctors and called them "ignorant assholes," Matt just smiled and would say, "I'm glad I have you to fight this battle."
"You have to fight the battle," snapped Dean. "I can't do it for you."
In this crusade, Dean resembled his mother. Viv was on the scene now and then. She really did not help, but she liked Matt; and Matt liked her. Whether he was in the hospital or bed-ridden at home, whenever Viv showed up, Matt's spirits were raised.
"Hey Horsedick," she said - her little nickname for him. "How's it pumping. I brought you some green tea and shit. Shithead said that its good for you, although how much crap can you piss out."
Matt smiled and held her hand; or if he were up and about he would give her a pat on the ass.
"Keep your hands off the goods, sir," she said. "If you weren't sick, I'd belt you one in the kisser."
Dean tended to ignore his mother on these visits. He had taken to cleaning everything with Lysol and was constantly polishing and shining. This annoyed Viv to no end.
"I didn't raise a fucking housewife," she said. "That stuffs gonna drive me away."
Dean would laugh and point to the door; but he continued to sanitize everything in sight. Even in the hospital Dean brought his can of Lysol. The nurses were annoyed at this, but the doctors told them to leave him be.
The Kielers visited often when Matt was home. Mr. Kieler would play checkers with Matt, while Mary would read all the get-well cards or some poetry. Mrs. Kieler would just sit and watch.
"He looks better today," she said to Dean.
"He worked this morning," he said. "He's always better after he works."
"I'm glad that Gary is sending work home to him. I can't believe those people at Axum who shun him."
"Believe it, " said Dean. "They're afraid. I can understand that. But when they say he's got what he deserves, I just feel like cleaning them up with my Lysol bottle."
"But you, Dean," she said. "You're looking tired. You take care of him, I know - but you should watch yourself."
"Well, Mom, with work and here and the Buddy group at Hyacinth, there's little time left over. And he needs me more and more."
"Well, we can . . ."
"Yes, I know. And I'll need you to - and Mary also. There are days he gets pretty messy. These drugs aren't a walk in the park."
Mrs. Kieler was a surprise to Dean. For all her southern propriety, she was an engine of strength; and although she did no more than Viv on her visits, there was always a gentle atmosphere of tranquillity left in her wake.
It was true Matt could not go to work. Dean would pick up programming orders and projects from Gary. There were conference calls and schedules and deadlines. Matt was thankful for this. So was Dean. He could put his feet up when Matt was busy programming his packet network flows and ebbs. He knew than that Matt was focused on something other than the bug within. Dean could even nod off while Matt worked.
Matt did become weaker and weaker. AZT will do that. Dean forced Matt to walk outside; little walks to the park for some fresh air. Trips to the Mall were initially beneficial, but Matt began to tire to the point that Dean could not sustain him. Then one morning, Matt was unable to work.
"I'm having trouble seeing the screen," he said.
Dean packed him off to the doctor; and when they returned they both collapsed on the sofa and sighed. They decided then and there that they would have a party; not a celebration for a good turn of events, but a need to keep life vibrant and colorful. So, the apartment was decorated with fun stuff - streamers, dildos, pink shamies and silk. A homecoming queen would have been proud of the effort. Matt unfortunately could not help. He had a string of "bad" days. Dean cooked and mixed and baked and Lysoled. He got Matt to the sofa just in time to answer the door.
"Come on in," he said to Ginger and Leslie and Russell and Mary. "It's party time!"
"Hi, guys," said Matt from the couch, "Glad y'all could come."
"Hi sweetie," said Ginger.
There were a general round of kisses and hugs.
"Hi sis," said Matt.
"How's my boy today?" said Mary.
"We have a good day today, don't we?" said Dean from the Kitchenette.
"It's not crappy," said Matt. "And now that you're all here, it’s great. We did so need a party - a little get together. We don't get out to the club - and we've missed so many things."
"Mom and Dad send their love and want to know when you're coming over to visit."
"We saw them last week," said Dean. "They stopped over. But you know, after a full days work, I just want to come home here and sleep."
"They understand."
"Drinks! Eats! Help yourselves."
"Mix me something, Ginger," said Leslie. "Surprise me."
"Do you have beer?" said Russ, who was unusually quiet.
"Since when do you drink beer?" said Dean. "Of course we do. In the 'fridge. Help yourself. I do enough waitressing about here."
"Sorry dear," said Matt.
"No apologies today, sweetheart. Let's just enjoy our friends."
"While I can still see them," said Matt.
"Shhh," said Dean. "Enough."
"Did I tell you," said Ginger, "I saw Miss Kitty at the Cave? She was in her full regalia. Tin cup tits and all."
"What a hoot," said Leslie.
"Did she do her Carol Channing?" asked Dean.
"And did she!" said Leslie doing her Channing. "Well, Dolly's back in town! And then she went into a Divine Miss M - bitchin' truly bitchin'"
"I loved Beaches," said Dean.
"The critics hated it," said Ginger. "Then why does everyone I meet say they loved it? I don't understand this at all."
"It's jealousy, you know," said Leslie.
"I couldn't watch it," said Mary. "I found it so sad - and why do we need to talk about that picture anyway?"
"Why not?" said Leslie.
"Why indeed," said Dean.
"No, go ahead," said Matt. "I saw it. It was great. Loved the Titslinger scene - and that kid who played Bette the younger. She like caught every nuance of the older Miss M. She almost stole the show."
"No. She didn't," said Ginger. "No one could have stole the show from Bette."
"Not even droopy Barbara Hershey," said Leslie, "with the disease of the month."
"That's a good one," said Matt, "the disease of the month."
"Please," said Russ, "Can't we change the subject?"
"Why Russell, you've been so quiet," said Dean.
"I think Miss Gym-bunny's been dumped by his most recent lance thrower," said Ginger.
"Trick, you mean," said Leslie.
"No, I haven't been seeing anyone. I just think it depressing to talk about such a weepy movie at a party. Why don't we talk about Boys in the Band or something."
"Well there's an upbeat movie for you," said Dean. "Why not Torch Song Trilogy or As Is, while we're at it."
"Get some food, all of you," said Matt. "And baby, I think I could manage a little of your potato salad."
"Oh, I've got beans in the oven."
Dean quickly popped over to the oven to save the beans.
"Just what I need with my AZT, little exploding pop-tarts covered in molasses and bacon."
"They're for the company, sweetheart. You stick to the potato salad."
"So, Matt," said Ginger. "Are you still getting work from Axum."
"I am officially on disability!"
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
"No apologies today," said Dean. "Please, no apologies today."
"Dean's right," said Matt. "It's nothing to be sorry for. I have good days and bad days. Working on bad days is not good; and disability means some needed cash."
"But the good days," said Ginger.
" Well, they have been good."
"Here you go," said Dean carrying the bowl of potato salad, "People, eat. Gary's been real good to us. Not many bosses will even give a gay man the time of day let alone a day off to lay dying in a hospital."
"How's your job, Dean?"
"Retail ain't what it used to be, eh Russ?"
"Let's not talk work," said Russ.
"Ignore him folks," said Dean. "I have seniority at the counter, but I have missed so many days. And I can't come out at work. They are still a pretty homophobic lot. I'm on my last sick day and personal day off."
"Well," said Ginger, "you guys know, if . . ."
"Have some potato salad - and the Strata is the Kieler recipe."
"Are these whole peas?" said Leslie.
"Yep. And Muenster cheese."
"A regular Martha Stewart," said Ginger.
"Martha who?" said Dean.
"You haven't seen her?" said Leslie.
"Is that the woman that goes into her garden to pick the lettuce and makes her own pots and pans before you can cook?" asked Mary.
"What a hoot," said Matt.
"She's a fad," said Leslie. "Won't last the season!"
"Anyway, if you guys want the recipe, I'll print it out."
"Baby," said Matt.
"Yes, you need more," said Dean. "You can't really have strata - you'd never digest it."
"I hate to say it," said Matt, "but you've changed the subject. These are our closest friends; and they deserve to know."
"Know what?" asked Ginger.
"Sit down everyone." said Matt.
"Are we going to poop this party? Matt you promised."
"I've made many promises in life. I have actually kept some. But they should know why I am going on disability."
"Isn't it obvious?" said Russ.
"No, smart-ass," said Matt. "This plague hasn't put me down yet. But now I've developed something that's going to make it tougher. Retinitis."
"Shit," said Ginger.
"What's that?" asked Mary.
"The disease is degenerating his sight," said Leslie.
"You're . . . "
"Going blind, sister dear. Not yet, but there's nothing to stop it. It's bad enough that the meds keep me puking and shitting; now I won't even be able to see my way to the bathroom. Glamorous eh."
"Well Matt," said Dean, "you managed to poop this party."
"Not really. I love your potato salad dear, but it's pooped me."
Matt got up and headed for the bathroom.
"Do you need help?" asked Dean sitting on the couch with the bowl between his legs.
"Not yet," shouted Matt. "I'll call you if I shit on the wall."
Dean unconsciously started eating the potato salad with the serving spoon.
"Maybe we ought to leave," said Ginger signaling to the others.
"Leave?" said Dean. "No, it's a party. It's our last party. He wanted to see you all together before he couldn't see you at all. Leave? No, never leave."
Dean looked from face to face shaking his head at them. He scolded them with the spoon.
"No one is leaving," he said. "You know, I was going to leave. Yes, I was going to leave him. You think I'm made of steel? I'm young and vibrant - and Matt got this thing from his previous lover and never told me. What makes you think I'm not human? I felt betrayed and stunned. I still do some of the time. I was going to leave. But how? How could I leave? He needs me! He says he doesn’t, but he does. He needs me to feed him and wipe up after him. He needs me to hold his hand when he sits by the window and cries his heart out. He won't cry for anyone else, but he will for me. And he needs to cry. Who else would remember his meds schedule? He'd never take the crap if it weren't for me. And who drives him to the park, so he doesn't grow old and mouldy in here? And in the dark recesses of the sleepless night, I massage his feet to ease the pain so he can get some sleep. They are gorgeous feet; and I lock my fingers between his toes and rub them like a child's. You know, if I didn't do that, he'd never sleep. He needs me. And I can only hold on because I also need him; but I also need you. Leave me? If you leave me, you leave us."
Dean dropped the bowl and wept into his apron. The party was over, but the guests gathered around. Matt returned.
"How are you?" asked Dean. "Are you OK?"
"Yep," said Matt. "But I'm real tired."
"Dean, maybe we should leave," said Ginger.
"Perhaps it's best," said Dean. "Matt you should lie down."
"Yes, baby you're right," said Matt. "But I'd like to look at y'all once more, while I can."
Matt went to Ginger; and before she could object he placed his hands on her face.
"Ginger snap!" he said. "Such a broad face. You know I can't go to the beach next summer. Even if I was still here, all your cats would give me the shits and kill me. Think of that. Killed by pussies. There, there - Lesbians don't cry."
"Shit they don't," cried Ginger.
"And you, Les the Lez," he said placing his hands on Leslie's face. "You know, if they ever write a book about those who love, you'd be the center spread picture. The world could learn a lot about the meaning of the word from you. Let me feel your face. Ah! Ah! I feel it. I feel the warmth of the golden Provincetown sun; its beaches and gulls. I feel in your eyes the gentle breeze and the kites entwining at dawn. And yes, all those Lesbians packed into the movie house to lactate over Jodie Foster. I love you - which is something I've never said to a women before."
"When it comes to love Matt, you're no slouch yourself," she said.
"Well when I said I've never said I love you to another woman," said Matt to Mary, "I guess I lied, sis. Sweet baby sister, don't cry. I'll be here for a long time yet. It's my eyes that are dying. I'll be in the darkness. That's why I want to fill my mind with the sunlight of your smile. When I touch your face, I touch my own."
He hugged her. She was overwhelmed and went to the Dean for comfort, while Matt turned to Russell.
"Come sir, Russ. Let my fingers take in your portrait; although, this is not the picture I have of you in my mind."
"Better to keep that picture than this one," said Russ.
Matt touched Russ' face. It was as cold as stone.
"Oh," said Matt. "Oh no. I see. I feel it comrade. I feel it. You and I will have plenty of time for us in another place. I feel it comrade as you join our legions."
Russ turned away. Matt was suddenly upset. He sat beside Dean on the couch. After a while he touched Dean’s face.
"What do you feel and see?" asked Dean.
"Please, Lambchop," said Matt. "We have company; and what I feel now about you is not for their ears. But I will tell you that when the light is gone from these eyes, it will be replaced with a different light - the rarest light of all."
The party was over. No joy in the world existed. The ignorant bug progressed. In its own natural intolerable way, the virus performed its progress as its program truly charted. It attacked the little helper cells on life's battleground; and soon, all was vulnerable to every invader, virulent in their turn. A different light was coming as the physical light was spent, the fallen of the bug - the bug most virulent and ignorant.