Page 8 of Romeo

I strolled to the fridge and found it was well-stocked, as if someone had planned this all along. I stood peering into the fridge, then I turned and glanced at Dante. How could he sleep so soundly? Didn’t he feel my heart being broken at every moment of his presence?

Kneeling at Dante’s face, I said, “Wake up, Dante, and let’s go to bed.” My voice was soothing and calm. I reached for his hands and pulled him up from the chair. He strode as if he was used to sleepwalking, and I led him to the carefully made bed and pushed the covers away, and he waited with his eyes closed and fell into the bed. Then, I removed his shoes and pulled his slacks down and off. I threw them in a chair near the bed, then I rolled him over and relieved him of his suit jacket, and left him in his shirt and boxer briefs that appeared to hug his toned ass.

He never woke, and after I put out the fire I climbed in the bed next to him, because that was a one-bedroom cabin, and it was cold and I didn’t want to freeze to death on that sofa when I could be snuggled up with the once man of my dreams.

When I woke, Dante was still under the covers in the fetal position sound asleep. I stood at the foot of the bed, hoping he’d open his eyes and see me standing over him. That would give him a good scare. No. A man like him might take that as a threat and we’d go through the same nonsense, when my only desire was for him to see me differently.

How long had he been without sleep? I wondered, biting my thumb, something I did a lot lately, and I couldn’t remember doing that since I was a child.

I’d heard when someone went without sleep for a day or more, when they got a chance they might sleep for days. My brain turned on, and I began thinking again, not about how I felt about Dante, but for my own survival.

That was my cue, to find the car keys and get out. I went on my hunt for the keys. “Now where can they be?” I mumbled, checking his pants, no keys, but a wallet containing money and credit cards. I placed that in my pocket. Then his coat. They weren’t there. I checked the chair he had been sitting in before I roused him and brought him to bed. Not there either. “Where the fuck could they be?” I stood in the middle of the room trying to figure out where he could have placed them, and I spent the morning searching for those elusive lifesaving keys, and for the life of me I couldn’t find them.

I was out of breath scurrying around that small cabin trying not to wake Dante. Maybe they’re in the room, but I checked his coat and pants, I thought. I thought I should make another pass, and I tiptoed back into the room and did a thorough search of his pants when something fell from his coat and I heard a groan from Dante. I fell to the floor and tried to remain quiet.

“Who’s there? I know someone’s there,” he said in a feeble voice. When he placed his feet on the floor, his legs were shaky and weak and he fell across the bed and stayed there. “Romeo. Where are you? I need help.” How could I help him? What the fuck was wrong with him?

When he didn’t attempt walking on the floor, I crawled back out into the other room. I had to think about what I saw. Dante in the bed unable to get out. What the fuck was that about? Since I couldn’t find the keys, I took a break for now to see what was wrong with him. It appeared in his condition he couldn’t do anything and I could look for the keys later when I could see better.

I strolled back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, and that was when Dante turned to me. “What’s wrong with me? I’m tired and I can’t get out of bed.” Then he began coughing. I sat back because whatever he had, I didn’t want it.

The coughing went on until he was completely spent. “Do you want to eat?”

“I can’t eat. I don’t want to eat. I just need to get out of here.”

“There is too much snow on the ground. Where are we?”

“We’re in Flagstaff, Arizona.”

“What the fuck are we doing here?”

“That’s where my cabin is.” He knew that and that meant he wasn’t too helpless but for the constant coughing. Then I had an idea. We need to get you to the nearest hospital because that coughing isn’t natural.”

“I didn’t have it yesterday.”

“I wasn’t a prisoner yesterday either.” He glared at me with his signature thick eyebrow, positioned his hand over his mouth, and placed his head back after pulling the pillows behind him. “I think I saw some paper towels in the kitchen and some cans of soup. Maybe that will help with the cough, and I’ll get some hot water and that should ease the cough. My mother always knew how to take care of me when I was sick. I had all kinds of things when I was a young man. I had asthma. Did you have asthma as a child?”

Dante glanced up at me trying to hold back the coughing and wheezing and gasping for breath. “Will you get the soup and hot water for fuck’s sake, Rom?” He called me Rom as if we were friends or lovers, but he had to curse first. I guessed that was the best I could hope for with someone like him.

When I left to open the soup the coughing started again, and when I returned he shook his head. He didn’t want to eat. He pulled the covers up and resigned himself to staying under the covers in the hope that whatever he had would disappear like a thief in the night. But as nightfall came and I still couldn’t find the keys, Dante got worse.

The basket was full of paper towels where he’d coughed up who knew what.

“What did you eat?”

“Nothing.”

“Does anyone want you dead besides me?”

“Not that I know of. I think I need to go to the emergency room. There’s a hospital a few miles away. You can’t miss it.” He must have been desperate to want to go to a hospital. Now to break the news.

“Where are the keys?”

“They’re in my pants. Bring them, will you?”

“For the bad news. I searched them and they aren’t there.”

“Were you trying to leave me when I’m sick?”

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