Thomas Skies quickly left the psycho ward. He opened the door of the bus in which Dennis was waiting. Come, he said. Lets get away from here. Lets go some place.
Has something happened?
No. Nothing. Its just that Ive had enough of hospital life.
Just a moment. Dennis called to the man who stood before the entrance, selling hotdogs. Old man, he said. Let me have a hotdog. How much are they? Now dont be too excessive.
Two dollars. For you. Because you gave me that information for my psychological problem.
Did it help?
No. How can it, as long as I have to stand out here all day long in the cold?
Youre the most insensible patient I ever met in my life.
He took the hotdog. Here is my apology for having you to meet me today, he said to Thomas and put the hotdog down on the seat by him on the bus. Would you like to have a drink somewhere?
No. Id like to go to the park. Put the hotdog here in my hands. Not on the dirty seat.
It is all right down there. One should like hotdogs, but not make too much fuss about them.
He turned his head quickly. You mean one shouldnt spoil what you like?
No. I only mean that one shouldnt exaggerate a nice gesture. Besides, at the moment it is better if there are no hotdogs between us.
Thomas looked at him hesitantly for a moment. Then his face brightened. Do you know what I did today? I focused. Lived again. I had hope. Breathed hope; and rested; got out of bed early for the first time in months. I had clear thoughts again; and could see without a fogy mind.
The driver maneuvered the bus out from among the cluster of cars as the street narrowed. Then he jerked the brakes. The thrust threw Thomas and Dennis toward up and on to their feet. He caught Thomas by the shoulders, stood still for a moment as they both were standing. It was like a fresh wind as if he was calming down from the long day, the strange defensiveness within him was g oing he sat back down and thought about his mental disorders.
The whole dayit throw itself over my head and against my brow as though to make me understand I can blossomget out of my depressive mode, my manic impulsiveness, the medication helped me and did not fragment meand now you see here I amand you
Dennis looked at him. He sat leaning back against the dirty leather seats and his shoulders his chest let out a deep morning sigh. He was open and outspoken and with hope for once, he said what he felt and he he didnt care to hide his feelings.
I was performing group therapy, he thought. I forgot about Thomas. I was with another client. I was somewhere in the present. Without him. Then when I remembered we had a date I had to rush out to meet him. I was thinking about John Michael Tate.
Thomas, he said and put his hands on his shoulders, which he had close by anyway. Last time we had session it was a hundred dollars an hour for several weeks. How lo ng will you need my time?
Longer, perhaps a few months; maybe years. Thomas had money. The lady along side of them looked like a nurse, with a long forehead which was calculating how much hed have to pay. Dennis bent over Thomas to her. She was breathing hard. His slight look made her turn her head away.
Goodbye nurse, he said, standing up, he knew her from the hospital.
Good day doctor. The fat nurse turned her head again to the other side of the bus.
It was sunny in the park. The door to the bathroom was open. There was a light in there, and Thomas turned it on, as Dennis waited outside by a bench. Dennis hesitated. He did not know whether Thomas was still in the bathroom after fifteen minutes of waiting, but he assumed so. Then he heard his breathing heavy as he opened the door. He walked through the bathroom door. He did not say anything. He knew he was here and something was wrong. Suddenly the room was full of silence and expectancy and tensi onlike a vortex which demanded a silent callan unknown blackness beyond his soul ebbed over his skin, from which rose the dim light from the dizziness of the red bathroom. He had known he was a tumult mess, as if frozen inside ice cub.
The door closed behind him. Now in the dim but clear light of the white bulbs hanging down from the ceiling by a cord, he felt an old familiar agitation. He turned to the shower area; it was the only shower in the large bathroom. He remembered it when it was installed.
The hot water ran down and out to the entrance. In the room Thomas Skies was lying and waiting for death to take him. He had cut his skin along his writs, a smooth cut and deep, both risks; his hair all messed up, his body impetuous with water running all over it, and his eyes shone incoherently in the shower room that was dimmer than the outer room. He looked around involuntarilyas if the bathroom had had another entrance, but it did not.
Thomas stood up nak ed, dried himself bleeding and weak. Strange eyes, what had fluttered in those eyes, thought Dennis!
Dennis, Thomas said out of the dim shower room. Take me to the hospital quick, look at what I did! I left the knife on the shower floor.
He stood still. He realized that he had been tense that day in the hospital and on the bus as well. He knew he could not have taken many things society or he might have said. This was right he concluded. Let him die. His thoughts eased into loose, but hardened certainty. Did you feel you would be saved in time? He asked.
That thought was easy; it was lying down in the shower waiting for you that was hard; but I waited anyhow, knowing youd come and save me. Give me your hand Dennis?
It was good to feel the warm sun out side Dennis thought. It was good that Thomas had found a way to escape he told himself. And he walked away, as Thomas fell onto the floor, too week to stand. It occurred to Dennis, vaguely that therein laid not only fascination, but the thrill of danger. Thomas put down his arm, and suddenly expired. And Dennis walked away, saying, Thats reality.
Realidad de Thomas Skies
Thomas Skies rpidamente abandon la sala de Psicologa. l abri la puerta del autobs en el cual Dennis esperaba. Venga, le dijo. Vamos a escaparnos de aqu. Vamos a algn lugar.
Ha pasado algo?
No. Nada. Es solamente que ya he tenido bastante vida de hospital.
Slo un momento. Dennis llam al hombre que estaba de pie en la entrada, vendiendo hot dogs. Viejo, le dijo. Dame un hot dog. Cunto cuestan ? Ahora, que no sea demasiado caro.
Dos dlares. Para usted. Como usted me dio la informacin para mi problema psicolgico.
Te ayud esto?
No. Cmo puede hacerlo, si tengo que estar parado aqu todo el da en el fro?
Usted es el paciente ms insensible que alguna vez encontr en mi vida.
l tom el hot dog. Ah est mi disculpa por haberle hecho reunirnos hoy, le dijo a Thomas y dej el hot dog sobre el asiento junto a l en el autobs. Quisiera usted beber algo en algn sitio?
No. Me gustara ir al parque. Ponga el hot dog aqu en mis manos. No sobre el asiento sucio.
Esta bien all? A uno le puede gustar los hot dogs, pero no hacer demasiado alboroto sobre ellos.
l gir su cabeza rpidamente. Quiere decir uno no debera estropear lo que le gusta?
No. Slo quiero decir que uno no debera exagerar un gesto agradable. Adems, en este momento es mejor si no hay ningn hot dog entre nosotros.
Thomas lo mir vacilantemente durante un momento. Entonces su cara se ilumino. Sabes lo que hice hoy? Acert. Renac. Viv otra vez. Tuve esperanza. Esperanza calmada; y descans sal de la cama temprano por primera vez en meses. Tuve pensamientos claros otra vez; y pude ver sin una mente brumosa.
El conductor maniobr el autobs de entre el grupo de coches, como la calle era estrecha. Entonces l tir los frenos. El empuje la nz a Thomas y Dennis hacia arroba y sobre sus pies. l cogi a Thomas por los hombros, se mantuvo inmvil por un momento mientras que ambos estaban de pie. Pareca como un viento fresco como si l se calmaba de un da largo, la extraa defensiva dentro de l se iba yendo, l se sent atrs y pens acerca de sus desrdenes mentales.
El da entero - ste se lanz sobre mi cabeza y contra mi frente como para hacerme entender que puedo salir de mi modo depresivo, mi impulsividad manaca, la medicacin me ayud y no me fragment - y ahora usted ve, aqu estoy - y usted .
Dennis lo mir. se sent apoyndose atrs contra los asientos de cuero sucios y de su pecho solt un suspiro profundo de maana. l estaba abierto y abierto y con una esperanza por el momento, l dijo lo que l sinti y no le import ocultar sus sentimientos.
Estaba realizando terapia en grupos, l pens. Me olvid de Thomas. Estaba con otro cliente. Estaba en algn sitio en el presente, sin l. Entonces cuando reco rd que tenamos una cita tuve que salir precipitadamente para encontrarme con l. Pensaba en John Michael Tate.
Thomas, le dijo y poniendo sus manos sobre sus hombros, el cual l tena cerca de todos modos. La ultima vez que nosotros tuvimos la sesin fue cien dlares por hora durante varias semanas. Cunto necesitars de mi tiempo?
Ms tiempo, quizs unos meses; tal vez aos. Thomas tena el dinero. La dama al lado de ellos, que pareca una enfermera, estaba calculando cunto pagara l. Dennis se inclin sobre Thomas hacia ella. Ella estaba respirando con fuerza. l la mirada levemente haciendo que ella girara su cabeza a otro sitio.
Adis! Enfermera, le dijo, levantndose, l la conoca del hospital.
Buen da Doctor. La enfermera gorda gir su cabeza otra vez a otro lado del autobs.
El da estaba soleado. La puerta del bao estaba abierta, haban focos all, y Thomas lo prendi, mientras Dennis esper fuera en un banco. Dennis vacil. l no saba si Thomas esta ba todava en el bao despus de quince minutos de espera, pero l asumi eso. Entonces l oy su respiracin pesada mientras que l abra la puerta del bao. l atraves la puerta. l no dijo nada. l saba que l estaba aqu y algo andaba mal. De repente el cuarto estaba lleno de silencio, expectativa y tensin-como un vrtice que exiga una llamada silenciosa-una oscuridad desconocida ms all de su alma baj su piel, de la cual se elev la luz dbil del vrtigo del cuarto de bao rojo. l saba que l estaba en un lo tumultuoso, como si congelado dentro de un cubo de hielo.
La puerta cerrada detrs de l. Ahora en la luz dbil pero clara de los focos blancos colgados abajo del techo por una cuerda, l sinti una vieja agitacin familiar. l dio vuelta al rea de la ducha; sta era la nica ducha en el cuarto de bao grande. l record cuando sta fue instalada.
El agua caliente corri bajo y fuera de la entrada. En el cuarto Thomas Skies estaba recostado y esperando que la muerte lo tome. l h aba cortado su piel a lo largo de sus muecas, un corte liso y profundo, ambos riesgosos; su pelo todo estropeado, su cuerpo impetuoso con el agua corriendo por todas partes sobre el, y sus ojos brillaban incoherentemente en el cuarto de ducha que era ms oscuro que el cuarto externo. l mir alrededor involuntariamente-como si el cuarto de bao hubiera tenido otra entrada, pero no.
Thomas se levant desnudo, se seco, sangrando y dbil, extraos ojos, qu habra revoloteado en aquellos ojos extraos, pensaba Dennis!
Dennis dijo Thomas fuera del cuarto oscuro del bao, Llvame rpido al hospital, mira lo que hice, dej el cuchillo en el piso de la ducha.
l no se movi. l comprendi que l haba estado tenso ese da en el hospital y sobre el autobs tambin. l saba que l no poda haber tomado muchas cosas que la sociedad o l podran haber dicho. Esto es lo correcto, l concluy. Djelo morir. Sus pensamientos se aflojaron, pero se endurecieron en certeza, Usted sinti que sera salva do a tiempo? l pregunt
Ese pensamiento fue fcil. Estaba tirado en la ducha esperando por ti. Pero esper de todos modos, sabiendo que tu vendras y me salvaras. Dame tu mano Dennis?
Fue bueno sentir el sol caliente afuera, Dennis pens. Estaba bien que Thomas haya encontrado un modo de escapar l se dijo. Y se alej, mientras Thomas cay en el piso, demasiado dbil para levantarse. Le ocurri a Dennis, vagamente puesto que all permanece no slo fascinacin, sino la emocin de peligro. Thomas puso sus brazo hacia abajo, y de pronto expir. Y Dennis se alej, diciendo, Esto es la realidad.
Dennis Siluk
http:dennissiluk.tripod.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Story
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