Mr. Brightside - 14. Chapter 14

Mr. Brightside

Chapter 14

When Jason left his apartment, he was vibrating with adrenaline. He couldn’t quite believe he had actually been able to do it, to end his engagement with Denise. There was a sense of relief, a sense he had done the right thing for once, but it was overshadowed by a myriad of other thoughts and emotions. Sure, he had taken this step, but what was the fall out? And he also felt like a coward for leaving her weeping in his apartment, but he had used his reserves of bravery in ending his relationship.

He walked to his car, opened the door, got in, and took off. Where he was headed, he hadn’t a clue. He had only gone a couple of blocks when a thought hit him, and he pulled over. Denise was sure to call his mother among others, and he needed to tell her himself first. He hated to do this over the phone, considering how much his mom liked Denise and how upset she was likely to be, but even if he felt he could leave New Orleans, it would take him 6 hours to get home, arriving long after Denise’s call.

Parked on Canal Street, with the motor still running, Jason wrestled his phone out of his pocket. He stared at it for a bit, trying to gather the tattered remnants of his courage Somehow a thought of Shane came to him. Shane had endured so much, but he had done that: endure it. Against great obstacles, Shane had survived. Shane, even in his medicated sleep, was an example of true bravery.

Jason closed his eyes and focused on thoughts of his former friend. The hospital had shaved Shane’s head when they had done the surgery to release the pressure on his brain. They had also shaved the beard to facilitate the use of the ventilator mask. With the red hair and beard gone, along with the fading bruises on his face, the beautiful man in the bed looked ever more like the Shane Jason remembered. True, Shane was unnaturally pale and his dark blond hair was nothing more than fuzz, but he seemed to be slowly turning back into the boy Jason had loved.

With his eyes still closed, his breathing becoming more regular, Jason focused on Shane. If Jason wanted to regain his self respect, if he wanted to be someone worthy of Shane, he must be a better man. Jason wasn’t prepared to tell his mother the whole truth, but he was ready to tell her about Denise.

Opening, his eyes, he found her number and hit “dial.” He tensed, but for nothing, as the call went straight to voicemail. Jason felt a flash of relief, thinking Oh, well, I tried. I’ll try later. A wave of self-disgust washed over him. Really, he thought, that’s it? Why not just send her a text like a good little pussy?

Girding himself, he dialed his parent’s landline. As the phone rang, Jason fought the urge to just hang up. When he was about to cry out in either frustration because his tension wouldn’t be released or in relief because there was no answer, someone picked up.

“Hello.”

“Ummm….hi, Dad,” Jason said. “Is...is mom around? I tried her cell, but no answer.”

“She’s at the movies with some friends. Some chick flick. Her phone was dead so she left it here.”

“Oh…..” Jason said. “Do you know when she’ll get back?”

“I’m not sure. I think they’re going to eat afterwards.”

“Oh. Umm…...can you have her call me when she gets in?”

“Sure, Jason.” Ted continued in a concerned voice, “What’s wrong? You sound upset.”

“Umm…..I….” Jason stammered. It hadn’t really occurred to him to tell the news about the broken engagement to his dad. “It’s…….I just need to talk to Mom.”

“Jason, you’re starting to worry me. Tell me what’s wrong.” Ted said sternly.

“I…...I broke up with Denise. I….I wanted to tell Mom myself…..I would have prefered to do it in person, but…” Jason trailed off.

“I see,” said Ted. “Why?”

Jason paused, thinking Because I’m in love with another man….He settled for a half truth. “I realized I didn’t love her like I should.” Jason had a sudden realization. “Not like I know you love Mom, and she loves you.” There was a long silence. Jason couldn’t stand it any longer and spoke, “I’m sorry...I know I’m disappointing you..”

His father’s voice, somewhat harsh, interrupted him. “Jason, stop that. Whether or not Barbara and I are disappointed doesn’t matter. It’s your life and your decision.” His father’s voice softened and sounded wryly amused as he continued, “It’s a shame you didn’t realize this before you got engaged, but better now than 10 years and 2 kids down the line.”

Jason almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was his dad actually joking about this?

“You’re not upset?” Jason asked.

“Look, Jason, I’ll be honest. Your mother is going to be very, very unhappy. She likes Denise a lot and visions of being a grandmother have been dancing before her eyes since the two of you started dating.” Jason drew in a bitter breath, waiting for the rest.

His father continued, “But, like I said, it’s your life.” Ted sighed, “I’ll be honest. I never felt that Denise was the one for you. In fact, I thought……”

“You thought what?”

“Never mind.” Ted paused, ”I”ll just say I did have my doubts about whether or not the two or you were really suited for each other.”

Why didn’t you say something?” Jason demanded.

“Like I’ve been trying to tell you: it’s your life, your choice. I chose the partner I wanted; I let you choose the one I thought you wanted. If I had evidence she was some sort of monster, I would have said something, but that wasn’t the case. Besides,” Ted asked, “would you have listened if I told you to reconsider?”

“Probably not.”

“I didn’t think so.” There was another long silence, but a companionable one. “For what it’s worth, I do think you’re making the right decision. If you don’t love her, you shouldn’t marry her. And don’t worry about your mother, I’ll tell her when she gets home.”

“Look, Dad, I’ll man up and do it,”Jason protested.

“Jason, I have thirty years experience telling Barbara things she doesn’t want to hear. I can handle telling her one more. I’ll talk to her as soon as she comes in, and you can call her tomorrow.”

Relief washed over Jason; he was so relieved he didn’t have to face his mother right then. “Thanks, Dad,” he whispered.

“Jason,” his father said, his voice thick. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?” Another long, long pause.

“I just am. I know you might not believe it now, but it will all be okay.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I am.”

“I hope you’re right. Good night…..and thanks for telling mom.”

“Goodnight, Jason.” There was another long pause, and Jason was about to hang up when his father spoke again. “I love you, boy.” And the line went dead.

Jason sat in his parked car for a long time. After the unexpected call to his father, he had steeled himself and had called Brad, but had again gotten voicemail. Apparently the world had decided to turn off their cell phones and no one had told Jason. He left a generic message that he would try again later. After he hung up, he sat in car and thought about what to do now.

Going back to his apartment was obviously not an option. He didn’t really expect Denise to stay the night, but he didn’t even want to drive down that block in case he was wrong. He was afraid to go to a bar because with the way he was feeling, he thought he might drink every ounce of liquor in this city which, as an appealing an option as that was at this moment in time, Jason had just enough sense left to know it was a bad idea.

Shane, the thought came to him, Shane. He would go to the hospital and sit with his friend. Jason had never been their past 5 pm, but he had the key to the VIP elevator with him, and he was pretty sure regular visiting hours didn’t apply to the VIP floor. Besides, if they kicked him out, he’d just go somewhere else. Maybe a hotel.

Jason arrived at the hospital and parked without incidence. He made it to the elevator bank and to Shane’s floor without attracting anyone’s attention. When the doors opened onto the luxurious little lobby, that lobby was empty. A jacket was draped over the chair at the concierge's desk where an open book lay, but no one was there. Jason walked quickly to Shane’s room.

He opened the door, and stepped inside the hospital room. The room wasn’t in complete darkness; the heavy outer draperies were pulled back, and light pollution glowed through the sheers at the large window. In addition, a sconce near Shane’s bed threw light on his face.

The incision from the brain surgery was on the side away from the doorway. Shane’s facial bruises had almost completely faded, and the light from the sconce illuminated his finely chiseled profile. In this impromptu spotlight, Shane glowed like the sleeping beauty in a twisted fairy tale. Then, as Jason watched, Shane’s features knitted in a grimace, and his body jerked.

Jason rushed to Shane, murmuring endearments, and stroking his bare shoulder until Shane quieted once more into peaceful slumber. Jason stood there for a long time, making sure that Shane was going to remain calm before. He leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on Shane forehead.

“Mr. Reid, what an unexpected pleasure,” said Viktor Pamchenko.

Jason, started at the voice and whirled around. Viktor was sitting in shadows in the seating area, his plush arm chair angled toward Shane’s bed. The older man reached over and snapped on a lamp.

“I didn’t know anyone was here,” Jason said.

“The concierge didn’t tell you?”

“No one was sitting at the desk. I mean...I saw their stuff, but no one was there.”

“Really.” The voice was harsh, and Jason felt a pang of sympathy for the night concierge.

Realization hit Jason. “Do you come here every night?” he asked Pamchenko. The other man didn’t speak, but Jason somehow knew the answer was “yes.”

Look,” said Jason, “I’m sorry...I’ll go. I’ll leave you in peace.” He saw some unreadable emotion cross Pamchenko’s face. Jason noticed Pamchenko was not dressed in his former sartorial splendor; he was without jacket or tie, and his shirt was rumpled, the sleeves rolled up. Before Jason could leave, the other man spoke.

“Don’t be silly. You’re here now. Stay. Drink?” Pamchenko asked as he rose and walked over to the counter and minibar. Jason noticed that a bottle of Scotch, and ice bucket, and a couple of glasses had magically appeared since he had left Paul that morning. How long ago that seemed. Jason didn’t really drink scotch. Too strong.

“Sure,” Jason said. Too strong sounded really good right now.

Pamchenko refilled his own glass, and turned to Jason. “Neat? On the rocks?”

“Neat.”

Pamchenko returned to his chair, giving Jason his drink on the way. The older man sat down and gazed up at Jason, a sardonic grin adorning his tanned face, his pale blue eyes shining.

“So what brings you here tonight?” Pamchenko said.

Jason took a fortifying sip of the amber liquid, enjoying its warm progress down his throat. He wished he could be defiant, or witty, or something…..but he was so close to the end of his reserves, that he actually went with honesty.

“I’ve had a really shitty day, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow arched.

“Yeah. I spent the morning discussing the fact that I am a douchebag and this evening just reinforced my douchiness in case I had somehow forgotten it in the last 8 hours or so,” Jason said bitterly. “And I needed to get out of my apartment. I didn’t have anywhere else I wanted to be.”

Pamchenko just stared at Jason, taken aback. And Jason, sipping his scotch, felt a brief bit of joy piercing his misery at having, finally, managing to put a crack, how ever slight, in the other man’s facade. But it faded rapidly.

“What do you do?” Jason asked, not knowing why he was questioning this particular man, but unable to stop. “What do you do to make it right when you’ve fucked up really bad? When ‘I’m sorry’ does nothing? When you can’t fix it? When your life and their lives are damaged.” He walked to the window, pulled the sheers aside, and stared out at the great lake, the headlights of the cars on the Causeway bridge looking like sequins shimmering on dark grey velvet.

Viktor said nothing for a long time. Then he spoke. “Your best,” he said, his low, deep voice like black velvet.

“What?” Jason said, turning to look at him.

“That’s what you do: your best. Look, Jason,” Viktor said as he rose and walked over to join him at the window. "Most people really do try to do their best; to make the best decisions for themselves and those they love. Often they make the wrong decision.”

Viktor turned to look out at the lake as he continued to speak, “Often their decisions, so well reasoned, so carefully pondered, so seemingly rational, turn out to be the wrong ones. Often their actions, even the well intentioned ones, turn out to have disastrous consequences.” Viktor drained his drink.

Pamchenko turned to Jason who was staring at the older man, and smiled. “So when disaster strikes: if you survive, you stand up, brush yourself off and try to do your best again. Hopefully the next time will work out better.”

“It’s that simple?” Jason asked bitterly.

“Never confuse simple and easy.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Pamchenko smiled again. “Remember Jason, in the end, we control our destiny.” He closed his eyes and intoned:

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

for my unconquerable soul

In the fell clutch of circumstance,

I have neither winced nor cried aloud

Under the bludgeoning of chance

I am bloody, but unbowed

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Lies but the horror of the shade

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid

It matters not how strait the gate

How charged with punishment the scroll

I am the captain of my fate

And the master of my soul*

After speaking, Pamchenko shook his head for a moment, as if rousing himself. “I think I’ll be going,” he said, walking back over to the built in counter and setting down his glass. “I’ll have them send someone in to make up the sofa bed.”

“No,” Jason said, downing his own drink, “I’ll go. You stay.”

“I have some things to take care of. Now that I know Shane has a friend to watch over him, I can go do that with a clear conscience. Goodnight.” Pamchenko nodded his head toward Jason, and walked toward the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Pamchenko,” Jason called.

The older man turned, studied Jason, and smiled. “You’re welcome. And you may call me ‘Viktor.’’ And then he was gone.

An orderly came in and made up the pull out bed. Before climbing into it, Jason spent a long time sitting by Shane’s side, soothing his friend who seemed increasingly agitated as the night wore on. When Shane seemed to have calmed for the remainder of the night, Jason finally tried to sleep. He thought sleep would elude him, but exhaustion won, and he spent a dreamless night.

After what seemed like only seconds, Jason started, realizing someone was jostling his shoulder. He cracked open dry, scratchy eyes into what seemed liked blindingly white light, realizing that he had failed to draw the curtains last night before retiring.

“Whhhuuuut……” Jason mumbled as he came into consciousness.

“Jason,” a voice said, a female voice. “Jason,” it repeated.

Finally, he managed to fully wake up. Jason stared up into the pretty face of Nurse Nix. “What’s going on?” he asked, now aware of more people than the red haired nurse in the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Laurie smiled. “In fact, something’s going right. Shane is waking up.”

*Invictus by William Ernest Henley

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