Chapter 4

Life with no friends is like, death with no witnesses.

The following day found the two siblings off to dialysis. Both were still feeling the effects of the hangover from the previous day and were, for the most part, quiet the entire trip. Coming home that night Patrick just wanted to sleep, knowing that in a few days he would be facing the third treatment of chemo, and after the side effects that he experienced was more apprehensive than ever.

But his dad stopped him after dinner, "Do you have a minute to talk?"

Okay, here it comes, he stopped and turned to his dad and said, "Sure."

His dad smiled and said, "Let's go outside, away from the lady folk."

As they exited the house his dad directed them to the shed, and as they walked he said, "The other day, when you came home intoxicated"

"Sorry Dad."

"No problem, been there, done that, got the beating of my life. Anyway, you made some comments about sex that upset your mom, and well, when she's upset, my life turns to shit, such is life. Anyway, She's a good woman and I love her to death, but when she latches onto something, well, it's like a dog with a bone. So, I'm here to talk to you about sex."

"Dad, I know about sex."

"Good. Now throw it ll out, because you don't know shit about sex."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Unless all you think sex is dipping your wick in the closest receptacle."

"What do you mean? Sex is sex."

"In it's base form, the physical side, yes. But, we, humans, are more than that. And because we are sex means more than just procreation. Sex, on its lowest level, is about pleasure. And as you look deeper into it, it provides comfort and sharing between two people. And lastly a connection called love."

"If all you see or want is the physical base side of sex, than you are missing the truly significant part of being human. Now, people who engage in sex for sex's sake aren't bad people, if you have an itch that needs to be scratched, well, you scratch it. But you miss out on the most important part, sharing."

"So, I shouldn't have sex?"

"Let's leave whether you have sex or not to later, let's finish up on what sex is. Any questions?"

"Uhm, no."

"Okay, next is what happens after sex, and I don't mean rolling over and going to bed. A lot of people feel a, connection, after having sex, and the more you have sex with the same person the stronger it can get. Does it lead to love? I don't know, maybe, maybe not. But what I do know is that whatever bond you have with the other person can get stronger."

"Also, sex is what I call grown up games. The reason I call it grown up games is because unless your a grown up you generally can't deal with the consequences of having sex, which can lead to kids. If you can't pay for the ferryman, don't take the ferry. This leads to another point, a man can be a father, but being a father does not make you a man. A man will take care of his family, he will do whatever it takes to make sure that they are safe and cared for."

Patrick thought about what his father said, and he never really thought about responsibility for having sex before. It was all about having fun and that was it. But now, he began to have second thoughts on having sex or not.

"You understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I think so, don't poke the tiger if you don't want to wake him."

"Yeah, that'll do."

"Done correctly, sex is a two person activity, any more than two it isn't sex, its a perversity. So, with two people there has to be, acceptance, meaning if either one doesn't want to participate than it shouldn't happen, no means no."

"I get it Dad, don't force em."

"That's right. And always, and this is important, always with respect. People who engage in sex should show respect. Never forget it, and you should be okay. Any questions?"

"No."

His Dad sat back and exhaled heavily. He could see that he was having trouble with what he was about to say, which he couldn't understand why, every parent says don't have sex. His voice was tight and strict, "Now, if your mom asks, remember that I said that you should wait."

He looked at him slyly and said, "Okay."

"Now, if things do not work out for you, then I would, consider changing my mind on that question because there are some, experiences that everyone should have in their lifetime. I'm thinking that what you and Patricia did a couple of days ago was for that reason. I hope!"

"Yeah, about that. It was my fault."

"Bullshit. You don't force Patricia to do anything she doesn't want to do. I must admit that it was a good idea to have a couple of people to watch over you while the two of you of got drunk. Smart move. Very smart move. By the way, who is Robert?"

"I don't know, all I know is he was there to watch me, and Jane was there to watch Patricia."

"Your Sister hasn't dated much and, well, it was odd that the first guy we meet is the guy that brought her home drunk."

He thought back on it and his Dad was right, Patricia hasn't really dated anyone that he could remember. She didn't go to the Prom or Homecoming, or any other dance or school related function. She did hang around with Jane and another girl named Kathy, but no one else.

"You know Dad, there are a few things that, uhm, I a looking to do this summer."

"Oh, like what?"

"Well, sky diving, flying in a plane, and driving really fast in a car."

"You want to jump out of a perfectly good plane?"

"Well, yeah"

With a look of disbelief he asked, "Why?"

"I don't know. It sounds exciting?"

"But jumping out of a plane?"

"Well, I could do something else that I really want to do, but I might not have the time to do it."

"Well, let's hope that you will be able to do those things during a long, VERY long, life."

The following week was the dreaded next treatment of chemo, the hair on his head, which began to fall out after the second treatment, was all gone and his pubic hair was thinning to the point that it was nonexistent. As he looked in the mirror he looked, sickly, and like a ten year old. Why would any, girl, want to have sex with him. He was beginning to feel that no matter the outcome of his chemo he would die a virgin.

The trip was boring and inconsequential. He went into the Oncology department and had his treatment, which like the previous two, had him sick and vomiting before leaving the hospital, and as soon as the got on the highway he was lighting up a joint to counteract the nausea.

Having finished his first, he was on his second when he asked Patricia, "So, what is Robogym to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, is he a friend?"

"Well, yeah I guess so."

"Okay, so he is a boy, who is a friend, is he a boyfriend?"

"Well, he is a boy, and we are friends, so technically he is a boy friend, but he is not a boyfriend for me."

"Ah. So Jane. She is a friend, who happens to be a girl, is she your girlfriend?"

"What are you asking Bro?"

"Well, I've never seen you with a boy friend, but I've seen you hanging out with Jane for a LONG time and was wondering if, like, maybe, you, followed a different drummer is all."

"Oh my God! Did you really ask that?" she asked excitedly.

"I sure did! You know Dad was wondering about that as well."

"What! He wonders if I'm gay?"

"Well, yeah. Since we never seen you with a guy, well, he was thinking that you might be, you know, different."

"Ewuu, gross. No I am not gay, and I've never, been with a girl, or a guy for that matter."

"Well, just to let you know, if you were, I wouldn't care."

"Well, thanks Bro. But this is a man loving woman."

"Cool. So what about Robogym, anything happening there?"

"Well, he did ask me out, but, I don't know."

"What don't you know? He's a great guy. At least from what I've seen."

"Yeah, but"

"But what? Come on Patricia, what are you waiting for? Take a chance!"

Laughing she said, "Well, look at you!?! Take a chance! Wow. Is this your professional advice?"

"Nope, personal advice. Think of him as a bucket list item for you."

"WHAT!"

"Yeah. Or, maybe, you should go out with him, you know, as a thank you for helping me out."

"Wait, you're kidding right!?!"

"No. I think it would be a good thing, you know."

"Well, he is the guy who is getting the things that you are smoking."

"Oh you HAVE to go out with him now!"

"Fine! I'll go out with him."

"Cool."

"Yeah, we can double date."

"Sure. Wait, what?"

"Well, yeah, double date. I'll go with Robert, and you'll go with Jane."

"Jane?!?"

"Well, yeah. What? Do you think she's ugly?"

"NO. It's just, well."

"Well what?"

"Well, she is a little old for me."

"Excuse me! She's eighteen!"

"And I'm sixteen."

"Well, we'll keep it a rated G experience."

"Okay then. It's a date."

They made it home in good time and had a good dinner, Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn, his favorite. A few hours after dinner he was in the front room watching TV when the nausea came over him. He barely made it in time to the bathroom before his dinner came back up. For the next twenty minutes he sat with his head near the toilet as his stomach emptied. In between bouts of heaving he became vaguely aware of people yelling outside of the bathroom door. He had no idea who was yelling but he wished they would shut up, it was distracting. After a few minutes he finally yelled out for them to shut up, but in middle of yelling, the force he used to be heard over the other voices caused another surge and he was once again purging into the toilet. They must have gotten the point as the yelling stopped, as well as his purging.

He sat, spitting into the toilet several times before moving away from the toilet and resting his tired body against the back wall. The silence in the house did much for his well being, knowing his family wasn't arguing over something stupid while he puked his guts out was important to him, for what reason he did not know. Maybe it was because he thought they were arguing over him, and because he felt like shit now only amplified his feeling like shit if they WERE arguing about him now. He felt that all of the ill will in the family was his doing, all of it wrapped around him, his life, his sickness, and ultimately his death. All of it, everything he was, is now, and will be, was nothing more than the pain he's inflicted upon his family. Right now if he could end it, he would...

Dam, he cursed himself. Self loathing was the killer, not the cancer! Once again he let the darkness in, and allowed it to turn his thoughts to giving up. No. He will not do this. He got up and flushed the toilet and, without looking in the mirror washed himself up. The cold water felt good on his head and around his neck as it seemingly washed away the nausea that had captured his being. Finally looking in the mirror he found himself clean of disease and showing a strength in this maturing face he had never seen before.

Looking further he found an odd sight, a face, devoid of hair, but full of strength, mature yet youthful, his look was one not of this world but of an alien coming into his own. He turned his head to the left, then to the right looking for something familiar, something of his old self, but there was nothing there. He stood back and was satisfied with himself. Satisfied that he had grown not only in look, but in wisdom, and in strength. If this is what it is like to grow up and mature he was confident that this was it.

He dried his head and chest and left the bathroom and headed to his room to change his clothes. Even though he had not soiled himself he could still smell the stench of what had happened to him in the bathroom. The nausea that he had pushed away was seeping back as he began to change, and as he sat down awkwardly on his bed he prayed that he could hold it together and not succumb to the stomach turning that he knew to be coming.

A knock on the door caught him by surprise. "Yeah?" he responded.

"It's Dad. Can I come in?"

Checking himself to ensure he was dressed he said, "Yeah, come on in,"

His door opened and his dad walked in, his face showing concern and worry he sat down on a chair across from his bed and asked, "How you feeling?"

"Not too good."

"Nausea still bothering you after what happened in the bathroom?"

"Yeah. It just, comes over me. I have no control. Were you arguing when I was in there?"

"Yeah."

"About me?"

"Yes."

"I wish you wouldn't. It's just, that, well"

"We get it Patrick, we do. And we've all agreed to NOT argue about you."

"Ever?"

"Ever? No, I don't think we could agree to that. But, we all agreed that arguing around you is NOT going to happen ever again. You yelling at us while sick in the bathroom put things into perspective."

"Good."

As his dad pulled something from his back pocket he said, "And, it led us to the following decision to give this too you to help with your nausea."

His Dad extended a small bag which he took and opened it. Inside was a small bag of marijuana and rolling papers. He looked up to his dad who said, "If this helps with your nausea then who are we to stop you? From what Patricia said all of the joints you've smoked have been rolled, so I'm here to show you how" as his dad took the bag from him.

He was shocked to see that his dad knew how to roll a joint and listened intently as to how to do it. His dad rolled three joints and handed the bag to him saying, "Okay you try."

He took the bag and rolled his first one, which turned out very bad. The paper didn't stick, the contents of the joint were sticking out, it was very sloppy. His dad took it and said, "Not too bad. Needs a little work."

"You've smoked marijuana?"

His dad looked at him and said, "No, never."

"Then how do you know how to roll a joint?"

He smiled and said, "My Grandfather smoked hand rolled cigarettes and when I was young I would often roll them for him, his arthritis made it hard for him. So I would roll a whole bunch of them for him, and became good at it."

"Before you, light up, a couple of rules. First, you can only smoke in your room, or outside behind the house, preferably outside. No smoking in front of Valerie. If she's outside you put it out. If she comes into your room tell her to leave, we can't do anything about Patricia she's of age to make her own decisions and she's been there when you have so she's okay. No smoking in front of your mom, she is very much against it and I don't want you to flaunt it over her, so please be respectful. As for me, I would prefer not to see you smoking, but if you're outside and I am, that's okay.

"All we want is for you to get better and to be comfortable, and if this will help than I have no issues with it."

"Thanks Dad. I won't flaunt it and I'll do my best to keep Valerie away from it."

"Good. Is there anything else you need?"

"Naw, I'm good. And, thanks a lot for, allowing me to"

"No problem. Just, don't mention it around your mom, she's not really okay with it and bringing it up will probably just upset her. She has a hard time with you doing illegal drugs, thinks you might be heading off in a bad direction."

"I won't mention it."

He smiled and said, "Okay, I'll let you be then."

He nodded to his dad and after the door closed lit up a joint and within ten minutes the nausea was gone. He wanted to thank his parents but knew it was a bad idea. And as he thought about it more, he now knew what they were fighting about, which made him feel worse. But not worse enough to stop smoking, out of everything that had happened the absolute worse part about being sick, other than the potential of death, was the nausea. He hated that, and everyone knew it. Someday he would have to do something to make up for their sacrifice, do something for them that they'd want from him. Now all he had to do was figure it out.

He had a day of recuperation, which he split between sleeping and smoking before heading out for dialysis. His life seemed to be falling into a pattern where he had good weeks and bad weeks based on his chemo treatments. The dialysis trips became a normal occurrence, like going to the store. It was surprising to him that he was seeing it in that light when he at first thought of it as a life ending event for him. But with the recurrence of cancer, it seemed trivial.