death do us part

Greg lies still in his lazyboy chair. His face and arms pale and blemished from too many drugs. His once curly hair is gone, just a smooth pale hairless skull is left. The rest of his body is hidden under a grey woolen blanket. I sit and watch his shallow breathing, the small rise and fall of his chest. His body is shutting down, those once strong arms, well muscled and tanned from working in the sun most of his life have gone. I think about my friend of 40 years, the laughs we had, so many funny times, the hangovers, not so many over the last few years but each one had a story to tell and I remember them all. Holidays, lots of them before and after marriage - so many shared memories. I guess he senses me sitting there, his eyelids flutter open and he squints against the sunlight. It takes a while for him to focus but he sees me, smiles and raises one hand “gidday mate”

I squeeze his hand and nod, “you look like a plucked chicken” I say, he grins and his eyes briefly sparkle – “yea, I know, I tarted up for you, sweetheart”. We stare at each other for a while; I don’t want to say, “how are you”, and all I can do is say “gidday mate” back to him. I stay holding his hand for a minute and feel a huge sadness that this man is so ill.

Annette comes into the room, sees me and nods acknowledgment that I’m there. She is no longer the best mates wife all charm and smiling. Now when she’s with Greg she is angry and moody, bitter. “His pills are in the organiser, fresh pajamas on the table, meals in the freezer, just microwave them for 5 mins.” She pauses and then “You will have to help him to go to the toilet, the Kids are with my sister so it’s just him you need to look after. I should be back by Tuesday night but it might be Thursday if the customer wants to sign”. She leans down to Greg and air kisses - near his face “Bye Greg, Ron will stay and look after you until I get back” She looks up at me and a smile flicks across her face for a few seconds and I once again I wonder at her strangely coloured eyes, a mixture of emerald green and smoky grey, there is a slight flush to her face but she glances away and then in a drift of perfume and swish of silk she’s gone – off on another business presentation. I stare after her and watch as she checks her face in the hall mirror, smiles, picks up her travel bag and leaves the house.

I look back at Greg; he has tears running down his cheeks. I’ve never seen him cry before, never seen him so vulnerable, I bend over and hug him, he clings to me and sobs, I’m crying too. It all feels a bit awkward, 2 mates hugging and soaking each other’s shirts with tears and snot – but I can’t stop bawling and neither can he. We cling together for a minute; the sobbing stops and I start to feel really silly. He gulps a lungful of air and pushes me away. “That’s all you’re getting, no nooky for you, you big ape” We squint at each other and take refuge in the “bloke banter” as we always do.

I sit on the stool beside his chair, grab a tissue from the box on the floor and wipe his face, take another and wipe mine – his lower lip is quivering, eyes squeezed shut and he takes another gulp of air before exhaling with a sigh and gulping again. A silence settles between us, then “we need to talk” he says but his words don’t register with me. I’m trying to clear my own thoughts and I’m stalling for time as I try to arrange the words I need to say to him. They will be a mixture of truth, half-truth and lies. Spoken from a desire to protect my lifelong friend but also a need to be honest as a friendship like ours dictates. Our mantra has always been “no secrets, no lies, never explain, never complain” but I’m not sure I can do that now.

I breathe in quietly and exhale gently, keeping my hand on his arm, trying to comfort him. “I need to tell you a story Greg, its one you might know a part of but not all. Its important you listen to it all before you say anything.”

Greg stares at me, I can see confusion on his face and alarm in his eyes. He sinks back in his chair and pulls the blanket up to his chin – his breathing is steady now and his face seems passive, accepting I guess. “go on then” he whispers.

“Annette always was the party girl, that’s what attracted you to her, remember? She was ambitious, intelligent and very pretty. You two were always at the centre of the social stuff in our group. Greg is staring at me, I hesitate but now I’m committed to telling him “A few years after you married she started, um straying I guess would be the word – just a quick cuddle with friends at first but later allowing more, actually encouraging touching, fondling … and more.

Greg raises his hand and says, “stop”. I’m surprised at the strength in his voice, his eyes clear, and his grip on my arm strong. “I know this Ron” he says, “I know where she’s gone now, another business trip with her boss. I know about the affairs she’s had, all of it.” I stare at him; I know he doesn’t know it all.

He keeps talking, talks about the friendship we’ve had, the strong bond that has grown since we first became mates, we were only 8. Growing up, crazy stuff through our college days, sports we did, rowing, surfing, tennis, always competing against each other, learning how to be men, discovering and appreciating women, taking charge of our lives, being there for our families and each other through the great times and the bad times as well. Always having each other’s back. He talks about the code that friends have, support your mates, be there for them, always buy your round, never nark.

He lies back in the chair and looks at me. “I’m dying Ron, the oncologist says I may have 2 or 3 months left. But mate, I’m in real trouble here, the pain is bad and its there all the time, I cant breathe without pain, I can’t crap without help, try to fart and I shit myself. I want out now.” He grips my arm tighter. “I need your help to finish this – now! I need to go out on my terms, with maybe a little dignity intact. Ron, you’re the only person who I can ask’ Pick up that pillow and press it down on my face, 2 minutes Ron and my suffering will be over. Mate, please, do it now. He stares at me and I stare back – what I’ve left unsaid acknowledged in his eyes as he continues to look directly into my soul.

I pick up the pillow and move close to him. He smiles and nods. The pillow is on his face when the door opens and Annette walks in. Her beautiful eyes look at me then shift to look at Greg, she moves forward and press’s down on the pillow, still staring at me. We hold the pillow down together, Annette looks up at me, smiles, leans in and we kiss.