I was supposed to meet Benny outside at nine o'clock the next morning. He was going to take me to the clinic, some psychiatric hospital in Connecticut that specialized in substance abuse, he'd told me. One of the best in the country, and he'd had a hell of a time getting me in. I had to be waiting by the curb with everything I was taking with me when he came to pick me up. It was the least I could do, after all the trouble he'd gone to.
I knew he'd worked hard to arrange this for me, and I knew that this was the logical solution for me. I could take some time away from everything, wean myself off heroin, pick up the pieces of my life and go on from there. This was what I'd wanted, wasn't it?
Maybe it was what I'd wanted yesterday, or a week ago, but it wasn't what I wanted now. What I did want, I had no clue, but this certainly wasn't it. I didn't want to leave New York. I didn't want to go into any hospital where I didn't know anyone and try to quit the one thing that was holding me together. When I shot up, I didn't have to feel anything. When I didn't have that, the pain was more than I could stand.
But still...I'd promised to give this a chance. After all, what I'd been doing certainly hadn't done much for me. It was obvious by now, my way didn't work. What harm would it do to try Mark's way, or Benny's way?
I was outside promptly at eight fifty-five with my tiny suitcase, shivering in my coat which was getting far too thin for the cold November weather. Five minutes later, the bell at the old church chimed nine times. It was nine o'clock, and there was no sign of Benny.
I stood waiting in the cold, unwilling to believe that he wasn't going to come. He just had to come. Benny was all I had left, and he wouldn't let me down. After two hours, I gave up. I trudged back up the stairs, checked my answering machine for any messages (there weren't any) and chucked my suitcase back under my bed before beginning the bitterly cold walk to Benny's office.
When I arrived, his secretary wouldn't let me past the front desk. She coolly informed me that Mr. Coffin was taking an extended leave of absence, and wouldn't be back for some time. No, she didn't know when that would be. No, he hadn't left any messages for me.
That was it. My last chance was gone. I started to leave, then turned when I heard the secretary call my name.
"By the way, Miss Marquez," she informed me, "our records show that you're two months late with your rent. If you cannot pay the balance within three days, we'll be forced to evict you."
Benny had promised me that he'd take care of that, that he'd give me the time I needed to pay what I owed. But Benny wasn't here anymore, and might not ever be back. My last chance was gone.
When I got home, I repacked my suitcase, packing everything I couldn't bear to leave behind. When I left again, it was for good.
I don't remember a lot of what happened over the next six weeks. I recall staying with some girlfriends from work, going out and getting shot up, and waking up the next morning without any trace of my money or my suitcase. Wearing out my welcome after two weeks, and curling up on a street grate at night in a desperate attempt to keep warm until morning came. Halfway through November, I caught a bad cold, and developed a chest-shaking cough. I was tired all the time. I felt myself becoming weaker every day.
I lost track of the days soon after I started living on the streets. Every day was an ordeal in itself, a struggle to survive. The winter was a cold one, and I knew I couldn't survive it, not like this, not in the shape I was in. And I didn't care. Nothing mattered to me anymore. I'd lost everyone I loved, and now I was all alone.
On one particularly cold day, I was jolted awake just before dawn by a hacking cough. As I watched the light creep over the skyscrapers and struggled to breathe, I realized that this was the day I was going to die.
I was very weak by this point, but over the course of the day, I managed to creep from Greenwich Village, where I'd been living, to the East Village. I wanted to be there when my time came. I wanted to be in the park, where Roger and I had gone on those summer nights to watch the stars and make love. I wanted to feel him with me one last time before I died.
It was dark by the time I got there. I crawled onto an empty bench and collapsed, not feeling the cold anymore. This was how I could go. The temperature would drop, and I would fall asleep and not wake up. I could be with Angel again. I saw her in my mind, dressed in all her finery, heard her soothing voice, felt her hand touch mine. "I'm coming, Angel," I mumbled. "I'll be there soon."
Someone was shaking me. Someone was saying my name. Angel? No, not Angel, a woman's voice. I knew who it was but I couldn't recognize her. She had someone else with her. Both of them looked worried.
"Mimi...okay, honey?" The first one said. "Been so worried..."
I shook my head. "Don't know...don't know..."
"Don't...recognize me?" She asked, looking even more worried than before. "Mark's friend...Maureen."
My eyes widened. "Maureen?"
"Shhh," she whispered, smoothing my hair. "Get...to a doctor..."
I shook my head. The effort made me dizzy. "No doctor," I insisted. "Roger."
Maureen and her companion exchanged a glance. I tugged on her coat sleeve. "Please," I whispered. "Roger."
They exchanged another look, and nodded. Together they lifted me off the bench and carried me across the park. I was exhausted by this point, nodding off every few seconds, then startling awake with a jolt. When we got to the apartment building, Mark came down and took me from them, carrying me gently up the stairs. When we got into the loft, the first thing I saw was a pair of anxious, fearful brown eyes.
Roger's eyes.
He clasped my hand in his, and wouldn't let go as Mark carried me over to the table and gently laid me down. "Got a light?" I whispered. "I know you..." His hand was trembling against my cheek. "You're shivering."
Maureen was explaining to Mark how she'd found me. I didn't care about. All I cared about was Roger. He was taking off his jacket, and tucking around me, touching my face, smoothing back my hair. He glanced over at Mark, gestured for him to bring something. "We need some heat."
My teeth were chattering in spite of myself. Even though I had Roger's jacket spread on top of me, and Roger's hands around mine, I couldn't seem to stop. "I'm shivering."
Mark tried to smile at me. "We can buy some wood, and something to eat..."
"I'm afraid she needs more than heat," a deep voice stated. Collins. Was he here too?
"I heard that," I called weakly.
"Collins will call for a doctor, honey," Maureen tried to assure me.
I shook my head, and my hair fell back into my eyes. "Don't waste your money on me..."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Collins dialing the phone. My shivering became more violent. "Cold, cold..."
Roger's hands tightened around mine. I looked pleadingly into his eyes. "Would you light my candle?"
"Oh, yes," he breathed. "Find a candle..."
I tried to squeeze his hand. "I should tell you..."
He stroked my cheek gently. My skin felt warm where he touched me, but ice cold everywhere else. "I should tell you..."
"I should tell you," I continued, straining from the effort of talking. "Benny wasn't any--"
He put a finger to my lips. "I know. I should tell you why I left. It wasn't because I didn't--"
I shook my head. "I know." What use was it to be saying all these things now? We both knew them already. There was only one thing left I wanted to say to Roger now. "I love you."
He looked like he was about to cry as he kissed my cheek. "Who do you think you are?" He demanded, his voice sounding dangerously close to tears. "Hold on, there's something you should hear. It isn't much, but it took all year."
I would have laughed at his talking in rhyme again, but I didn't have the energy anymore. Mark handed him his guitar, and he began to play. The song was slow and beautiful and it made me want to close my eyes and slip into the sleep that would engulf me at any moment.
My body felt lighter, and I slipped to the floor, amazed that no one had noticed. When I looked back, I saw they were still all clustered around Roger, who continued to play. Tears were springing to my eyes, and I had to wipe them back. I was going to miss them all so much.
Oddly enough, death wasn't the frightening demon I'd been running from ever since I got my HIV results. It had been so simple, so painless. Was this all there was to it? Turning around, I saw a tunnel where the door to Roger's room had been only moments before. I knew what I had to do. I took one last look at my friends, blew Roger a kiss, and started down the tunnel to the light near the end.
I could hear a humming noise from the light as I walked, and a few notes of Roger's song behind me. He'd finally found his song, after all this time. He was going to be all right, he just had to be. And I'd be waiting for him when he came to join me.
"You're not giving up that easy, are you?" A gentle voice chided me. "That's not the Mimi I know."
I stared at her in astonishment. She hadn't been there a second ago, and yet here she was, looking like she'd never been sick a day in her life. She was wearing the skirt I'd given her for her birthday, and a blouse she'd gotten on one of our shopping trips. Her eyes were bright and alert, and she had reached out her arms and was hugging me.
She even smelled the same, like that bottle of perfume Collins had gotten her for their six month anniversary. I hugged her tightly, burying my face in the soft silk scarf she had around her neck. "God, Angel, I've missed you so much."
"And I've missed you," she replied. "But that doesn't mean I wanted to see you here quite yet."
"Angel, it's over," I pleaded. "There's nothing left for me back there."
"Mimi Marquez, how can you say that?" She scolded me. "Turn around, girlfriend, and listen to that boy's song! And then you try to tell me that you have nothing left."
Roger's voice sounded a little stronger now. "You were the song all along, and before the song dies," he sang as tears dripped down my face. "I should tell you I've always loved you." He took a breath and finished in a shaky whisper. "You can see it in my eyes."
I turned back to Angel. "You're right," I whispered. "I have to go back, don't I?"
"You do that," she agreed, giving me a gentle nudge on my way. "Don't you worry, I'll be right here waiting for you." When I turned back to look at her, she was gone.
By the time I got out of the tunnel, Roger had finished playing, and was cradling my lifeless body to him. "Hold on, baby," I whispered to him. "I'm coming."
I climbed back onto the table and laid down. After a great deal of effort, I managed to open my eyes. "I jumped over the moon," I whispered.
Roger turned to me and was staring in shock. "What?"
I sat up. "A leap of mooooooo..."
"She's back," Joanne gasped.
"I was in a tunnel," I continued. The words were falling over themselves as I talked. "Headed for this warm, white light--"
"Oh my God," Maureen breathed.
"And I swear," I continued, looking around at everyone, Mark, Roger, Maureen and Joanne, Collins--"Angel was there. And she looked GOOD. And she said," I turned to look at Roger, "'Turn around girlfriend, and listen to that boy's song.'"
Collins felt my forehead. "She's drenched."
"Her fever's breaking," Maureen added.
"There is no future," Mark reflected. "There is no past..."
"Thank God this moment's not the last," Roger agreed, drawing me to him.
I hugged him tightly. "You brought me back," I whispered. "Thank you."
"I'm not ever going to let you go," he promised. "I couldn't stand to lose you again."
I rested my head against his shoulder. "I love you, Roger Davis," I told him.
"And I love you too, Mimi Marquez," he replied. "More than I ever knew."
"Hey, guys," Mark pointed out, nodding toward the clock which had just struck midnight. "It's Christmas."
"Christmas," I breathed, hugging Roger again. "I didn't know it was Christmas."
"I think this is the best one ever," he told me. "I got the best gift I ever could have gotten."
I kissed him because I didn't know how to tell him what I was feeling at that moment. I'd died and come back, Roger had left for Santa Fe and come back, and now here we were together again. He'd found his song, and I'd found the happiness I'd been looking for all my life. My life had come crashing down, but it had been fixed, with friends, with luck, and patience, and love.
I wasn't broken anymore.
Fin
A/N: Thank you SO much to everyone who reviewed this. If it wasn't for you, I would have abandoned this project a long time ago. Your words of encouragement mean more than I could possibly say, so once again, thank you.
Special thanks goes out to my Rentfic buddies for all your help and encouragement.
I have a new story started that I'll be posting soon, so keep an eye out for that!