Way Down I'll Go

Of Cautious Melody

"Alright, young man, you're all done!"

The nurse couldn't have been more than 5 years older than him, so her phrasing made him smile. But in a way, it made sense; the other three patients in his pod were well over 60.

He tucked the tubing from his central line underneath the collar of his shirt, thinking back to his first encounter with the "chemo compadres" as they called themselves. They'd all acknowledged him that first day with pitying glances and hushed condolences of "what a shame" and "you're so young". Jo had wondered why his age made his ordeal any worse than theirs.

"See ya later, kid."

Homer leaned forward to pat Jo on the shoulder, and Jo, after nine weeks, managed not to flinch. Homer was ancient, with less teeth than he had fingers and wrinkles in heaps. He was the quietest of the group and rarely smiled, but when he did, it was always for Jo.

"Go to Billy's and eat a burger for me, huh? You need some meat on your bones."

Jo returned his smile.

"Maybe I will."

"Take your wife along, honey," Alice added. "You two need some time to yourselves, you know."

Jo smiled at the white-haired dear, not bothering to correct her. Besides, the thought of Rachel as his wife was too enticing not to entertain for a few moments.

He thought about it on the ride down the elevator. He thought about it as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. He thought about it as they scheduled his next appointment.

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it.

Things had been great between the two of them. She was so easy to be around and they had fallen into a pattern of being together and raising the boys as a couple. There had been misunderstandings, of course; Jo knew he wasn't the easiest person to live with. But they were always worked out, and each time he'd learned something more about himself through the process. She was good at that: seeing past his reactions to their cause. In some ways, she was a lot like his therapist.

Marriage made sense, he supposed. There wasn't much point in dating if the possibility of marriage wasn't a least a thought for the future. So much had happened to them in their short time together that he'd never had a chance to think too far ahead, but now that he had...he wanted her to be his.

He'd never wanted something so much in his life.

If he was honest, he'd never really wanted much for himself. He'd hoped the boys would grow up strong and healthy. That they'd graduate from high school and college and land their dream jobs and have families of their own. That they'd be happy. Never in his life had he considered what he wanted for himself. But now he didn't have to consider it.

He knew.

A wild image ran through his head. Rachel. In a simple, white dress. Walking toward him. 

Toward him...

"Move, asshole!"

He was startled from his thought train as a one-legged man in a wheelchair pushed past him angrily. Jo, however, remained frozen in place.

"Move!"

He was pushed into the room, his bruised knees connecting with the concrete floor.

"Don't worry, Vin. I'll knock some sense into him."

"I thought I already had..."

The door slammed, leaving him alone with the man. He didn't have to glance up to know it was one of his regulars. He trembled, partly from the cold, mostly from knowing what would come.