Don't Look Back - 1. Chapter 1 - Don't Look Back

Yuri was in Hell, and it was up to Donovan to get him out.

Dr. Graves at the hospital said that Yuri was doing as well as could be expected. But it had been a close call. Although Yuri’s heart had stopped briefly during the overdose, there was no damage to his brain or major organs. How appropriate, Donovan thought, that the staff placed Yuri’s brain in a separate category from “major organs.” But Yuri’s mental state might still be fragile, and it was unclear if the overdose was a suicide attempt. And his recovery was definitely in question.

Yuri was near tears during their most recent phone call, obviously frantic to get out.

Donovan had to sweet-talk Dr. Graves into releasing Yuri a day early. In the doctor’s office, Graves had mostly riffled through Yuri’s chart as Donovan stared at the big photo on the wall of Graves kneeling beside his three Rottweilers and smiling broadly, which he never did in real life.

“Mr. Orff, what’s your relationship to the patient?”

They had been through this half a dozen times. “I’m his partner.”

“Oh, yes, I see the note about that.” Graves riffled some more. “And Mr. DiCillo has no relatives nearby?”

“None that will have anything to do with him.” Donovan was so accustomed to calling him Yuri DC, as he preferred, that his full surname, DiCillo, now sounded strange.

“Mr. DiCillo needs to keep up with his N.A. meetings.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Since the arrival of fentanyl on the scene, street drugs are very dangerous.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Donovan thought briefly about refusing to answer, but thought that would only cause problems. “I attend Al-Anon regularly.” Except when there’s an overdose.

“Good. Any formal therapy?”

“No.”

“Well. We’ve gone through the list of things to watch for, and Mr. DiCillo’s vitals are stable, and he’s very eager to go – a pain in the ass, to quote the nurses – so I will release him. Call if there is any problem or question at all.”

Now Donovan was in the lobby, waiting for Yuri to be let out. He called Stephanie, his Al-Anon sponsor. She answered, for a change.

“This is Steph.”

“Hi, Steph, this is Donovan. I’m at the hospital, waiting for Yuri.”

“How are you feeling?”

Donovan looked at the ceiling. “You know I can’t tell what I’m feeling when there are people around.”

“Focus on your physical sensations, then. How’s your breathing?”

Donovan started timing his breaths. “I’m breathing.”

“Pulse?”

“I have one. Not fast, not slow.”

“Any blush or hot face?”

“No.”

“Is your stomach tight?”

“A little.”

“Teeth grinding?”

Donovan unclenched his jaw and moved it around. “No.”

“Tics? Twitching? Cough? Hiccups?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“All right.”

“After I’ve had a few minutes alone, I’ll call you and let you know what I was feeling.”

“Sounds good. Any progress finding someone to play music with?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“It’s important to make time for yourself.”

“I know. I’ve gotta go. Here he comes.”

“Bye.”

Donovan put away his phone and stood. Somebody wheeled Yuri out in a wheelchair. “Hey, dude, where’d you get the rad wheels?”

Yuri shook his head. “Orffy. Don’t even try. Slang is so not you.” More quietly, he said, “Everybody gets a wheelchair at discharge. Stupid hospital rules.”

“Right. I brought your jacket. Naturally, it’s raining like hell.”

“Thanks.”

“Pull up the hood when you put it on.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“I have to watch over you. Doctor Graves gave me the third degree.”

Yuri blew out a breath. “Yeah, I know. Everybody is so concerned. It was an accident, for Christ’s sake.”

Donovan wanted to believe him. “Ready to go?”

“So ready.” Yuri looked outside. “Could be worse. Could be raining.”

“You fool; you’ve given me an abnormal brain!”

Yuri shook a bottle of discharge meds. “Try one of my seda-gives.”

“No, thanks. Got my own. Here, take my arm. I’ll help you up.”

“Stop fussing over me!” The Yuri pendulum had swung once again from I-need-you-so-much to don’t-touch-me. He ignored Donovan’s proffered arm and stood up.

“Well, take my arm, and we’ll walk to the car. The parking lot’s across the street.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “You really don’t think I can walk to the car by myself, do you?”

Donovan looked to the side. “I know you can walk to the car by yourself.”

“Good. Then here’s your test. Don’t help me, all the way to the car. In fact, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t check on me.”

“Fine.”

Neither moved.

Yuri waved a hand. “You go first.”

“Fine.”

“No talking!”

“Sheesh!”

“Starting – Now!”

Donovan made his way out the door. He opened his umbrella. Yuri wouldn’t be caught dead carrying an umbrella, much less using one. Donovan suppressed the urge to make sure Yuri had pulled his hood up.

As they walked, Donovan listened for the sound of Yuri’s footfalls behind him. His mind wandered to Stephanie’s push to find someone to play music with him. Someone to improvise with, which was very much not his strong point. He didn’t like other ears to hear any of his music that was not finished to a polish. Sure, he accompanied singers and played piano for dance classes, where he sometimes got in trouble for following the dancers instead of keeping a steady beat, but that was just utilitarian craftsmanship. So was his church gig, where he could hide in the organ loft. But playing for pleasure, especially with someone else, had fallen by the wayside.

Donovan forced his attention back to listening for Yuri. The rain was very loud, and no sound of Yuri was audible. Donovan restrained himself from looking back. He started across the street. On the far side, the water in the deep gutter had almost turned into a river, carrying along sticks and other debris in its swollen flow. Donovan suppressed the strong urge to turn and extend his hand to Yuri, to help him across. But he knew what would happen. Yuri would retreat behind a mask of disappointment, where Donovan could not reach him – might never reach him again. He would say that it was no big deal, that it was just a stupid game. Donovan knew better. He’s asked you not to jump in and help unless he asks. He’s perfectly capable of asking for help if he needs it. Remember, helping is the sunny side of control.

Listening, Donovan heard no footsteps and no other Yuri-sounds. It was driving him crazy. Just trust him, he repeated silently a few times. Just get to the car, have your debit card ready to pay Karen the surly automated parking lot attendant, and we’ll be home in no time.

He jumped across the little river onto the sidewalk and continued the two steps to the car. Yuri was beside him seconds later. Donovan let out the breath he had been holding and laughed. “Hey, you made it.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Duh. Have a little faith.”

Quietly, Donovan said, “I’m glad you made it. And I’m glad it was just an accident.”

“Of course it was.”

Donovan grabbed Yuri and hugged him tightly, screaming, “It’s alive! It’s alive, it’s alive, it’s alive!!” He unlocked the car and they both got in.

Yuri fidgeted a moment before buckling his seat belt. “Orffy?”

“Yeah?”

“In the transference, I got part of your wonderful brain. But what did you ever get from me?”

Donovan started the car and growled with the engine as it roared to life.

Together, in falsetto, they sang, “Ah, sweet mystery of life, at last I’ve found you!”