Adam Green looked like shit. As he sat in the tiny office at the city run clinic downtown, he started to shiver. The night sweats began two weeks ago along with severe body pains and diarrhea. He felt like he had been run over by a train.
He was wearing a paper gown with an open back. He was glad he kept his underwear on (you never know what these pervs will do to you at this kind of place). The building was freezing, so he had his suit jacket thrown over his shoulders. He saw his reflection in the window and it made him shudder.
Adam was not tall by modern standards, just barely breaking five foot six inches. His light red hair was cut very short and he went to the tanning salon at least one day a week just to make sure he didn’t have that pasty completion that most red heads have. Plus he thought a tan line made his ass look great. He was naturally hairless with the exception of a bright red bush between his legs. Everyone that saw it thought it was so hot! The idea would have made him hard if it wasn’t for this lousy flu.
“I wish they would hurry,” he whispered under his breath. “I have too much work.”
There was a light rap on the door.
“Yes,” Adam announced.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Green, my name is Benjamin Chang. I have been assigned to your case.” He indicated to his associate.
Adam stood up. “So I have a cold or the flu? Aren’t you going to give me a ‘Z pack’ or something?” Adam started to pace the floor in the tiny room.
Dr. Chang wore a lavender shirt and a yellow flowered tie underneath his white lab coat.
“Mr. Green, I think you better sit down.” The doctor spoke with no accent.
Adam had a knot beginning in his stomach. He took a deep breath and sat down.
“Mr. Green, you have tested positive for HIV. I am sorry to tell you this so bluntly, but I think we need to be honest here.”
“Why did you test me for that?” Adam whispered.
“Isn’t that why you came here?” Dr. Chang asked.
“No.”
“Mr. Green,” Dr. Chang cleared his throat. “You did sign the consent form.”
“I did?” Adam felt foolish. There were so many forms to fill out and he must have just signed it without looking. To be careless like that was not like him.
“Plus the symptoms that you have and your status…”
“Status!” Adam leaped out of the chair. “I am not a Homo!”
“Please, Mr. Green, the doctor explained, “no one is suggesting that you are Gay.”
The truth is that Adam Green was Homosexual. He had convinced himself that he never acted gay. He didn’t walk with a swish. His wrists were never limp. He made sure that he was never a cliché.
He lived uptown, close to the museums and far away from the clinic that just delivered to him his death sentence. He was thirty-five and never married. He would work seven days a week if he could, but the bank was closed on Sunday. His position at the bank was Financial Investigator, which allowed him to research into other individuals’ personal history. It gave him great pleasure to find out how much money these people had and how they spent it. Also, even though it was frowned upon at the bank, he liked to look into whether or not they had a criminal record. He even investigated the other workers at the bank and kept detailed notes on everybody, especially the higher-ups at the bank.
Adam was not athletic, even though he went to the gym five days a week. He mostly liked to sit in the sauna and sweat. Occasionally he would make eye contact with another man and meet up with him in the showers. He did play racket ball every now and then, usually when the guys from the bank needed an alternate, which meant someone was sick or out of town. He was always the last choice when they needed a foursome.
He always wore a black or a navy blue suit, a starched white shirt and a dark tie. On the mornings when he gave a presentation to the investors, he would wear a red tie to symbolize the cutting of the throat. That always made him smile.
“Adam,” Dr. Chang interrupted. “May I call you Adam?”
Adam looked at the doctor. He thought the doctor to be handsome in an Asian sort of way. He wondered what he looked like naked; his tight gymnast body avoid of all body hair and a small penis. The thought revolted him.
“No, I wish you wouldn’t,” Adam replied. He looked at his reflection in the window and was shocked. The harsh overhead lighting cast an eerie glow. His skin was pasty white and the dark circles under his eyes made him look like, what his father would have said, “death, warmed over.”
“Okay. Mr. Green,” the doctor corrected himself, “do you have a primary care physician?”
“Yes.”
“I suggest that you make an appointment with him as soon as you can. This afternoon you had, what we call a saliva test. It takes five minutes and is pretty much ninety-five per cent accurate.”
Adam remembered an assistant looking inside his mouth and with a long cotton swab. He wiped the inside of his mouth and tongue and placed the swab in a plastic baggie.
“So what you are telling me is that I don’t have the flu and that I have AIDS?”
“No,” Dr. Chang insisted, “that is not what I said at all. I said, you need to see your doctor and have him perform the proper blood work.”
Back at his apartment, Adam stood looking at his collection of Hopi Kachina dolls arranged in a tall glass case lit from the sides. Along with the dolls, other artifacts from various Native American tribes were displayed. Tomahawks, totem poles, quivers with handmade arrows, arrowheads lined the glass shelves of the case. Adam’s favorite item was a knife with a deer antler handle from one of the most northern tribes of the Artic region. He wasn’t sure if it was the Yup’ik or Aleut tribe but he was sure the knife had been used by a warrior in combat.
All of his Kachinas were warriors. Kachinas are symbols from the plains Indians of the supernatural that explained man’s actions on earth. Adam liked to think of himself as a warrior in the forest of Manhattan. Every day he prepared himself to fight off those that would do battle against him.
Some mornings he would stand naked in from of the display case. He would remove the tobacco pouch, place it around his neck, then slip the quiver over his shoulder and hold the knife. He could feel the power that these items bestowed on him.
This morning was no exception. He needed all the power these tools could give him. He had an appointment to see his doctor to hear his lab results of the HIV test.
The doctor’s office was beautiful. The dark wood walls and leather chairs looked more like a study than an office. He was ushered into the doctor’s office by one of the doctor’s several assistants. She was tall for a woman and attractive. She wore tailored slacks and a white blouse, the last two buttons undone. She wore black heels and pearls. Very Ralph Lauren, Adam thought.
“Please have a seat, Adam, the doctor will be see you in a moment,” the assistant smiled as she opened the door. “Would you care for a cup of coffee or a bottled water?”
“No. Thank you. I’m fine.”
“Very well,” she responded, closing the door.
The doctor’s office had a splendid view of the Museum of Natural History. From this vantage point you could almost see through the front doors to the giant mastodon on display. In a few months, when the leaves fell from the trees, you could see into the glass doors.
Adam looked around the office. Everything was in perfect order. The bookshelves were filled with leather bound edition medical books as well as photos of the doctor’s children and grandchild, a toe headed boy around two or three, Adam could never tell those things. On the wall to his left hung the doctor’s many diplomas, framed exquisitely in dark wood frames. A massive mahogany desk was positioned as so the doctor could watch the seasons change from his third floor window. The desk was void of clutter. The only things on the desk were a leather blotter and a framed photograph. He knew the foursome in the picture. It was his father with his new wife and the doctor and his wife of forty-two years. They were happy, smiling, probably from one too many martinis after a rousing round of golf in the Bahamas.
The door opened, the doctor walked in then shut the door lightly. He held a manila folder in his hand.
“Good morning, Adam,” the doctor smiled, holding out his hand.
“Good morning doctor,” Adam returned.
“Doctor?”
“Harry.” They both laughed. The doctor looked seriously at Adam. “Uncle Harry.”
“That’s better. Please sit down there.” Harry indicated to the leather wing back chair in front of the desk. Adam sat while the doctor walked around the desk and sat. “How are things?”
“I’ve been better,” Adam answered.
“I see.” He paused. “Have you heard from your mother?”
“Every Saturday, like clockwork. She usually calls from the hairdresser. Honestly I think she lives at Ramon’s. There or Canyon Ranch.” They both gave a short laugh. “Harry,” Adam’s tone became serious. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Well, son, let’s take a look.” Harry opened the file in front of him, placed the half moon reading glasses that hung from a chain around his neck and started reading. “Hmmm,” he grunted. “How long have you been feeling ill?”
“Ill? Harry, I feel like death warmed over.”
“Adam, you sounded just like your father.” The prognosis was not promising. Harry thought he would buffer things by keeping the conversation light.
“Over a month. Probably six or seven weeks.”
“Six or seven weeks?” Harry repeated. “Adam, why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
“I assumed it was the flu.”
“Well, it’s not.” He took a deep breath in through his nose and blew it out of his mouth. “You do have HIV.”
“I know. They told me at the clinic downtown.”
“Hmmm.” Harry took off his glasses. He looked Adam in the eye. “What do you know about HIV?”
“I know that a lot of people are living with the disease with the proper medication,” Adam shrugged.
“That’s true,” Harry agreed. He put his glasses back on. He ran his finger down the page in front of him. “Your T-cells are almost gone and your viral load is through the ceiling. The way things look, I think that you have been infected for a very long time.”
“Like how long?” Adam swallowed.
“A year, maybe longer.”
That conversation with Uncle Harry was ten months earlier. Adam’s health improved but not like they were hoping. The people at the bank began to avoid him. The guys stopped calling him completely for racket ball. His appearance was always waxy and he couldn’t stop sweating, even though he was freezing cold. The intercom on his desk phone buzzed. It was his assistant.
“Yes, Calie,” Adam uttered.
“Mr. Burnstein wants to see you in his office.”
“When?” Adam asked.
“ASAP.”
That didn’t sound good.
Adam stepped into Mr. Burnstein’s office. It was sparse and very clean. Adam spotted a very large bottle of hand sanitizer on the corner of his supervisor’s desk. He squirted some in the palms of his hands and rubbed it in. Mr. Burnstein was standing facing the window when Adam walked in.
“Thank you for being prompt, Adam. You know that I like that in people.” Mr. Burnstein, or Bernie to his friends, spoke in a very deep voice. Adam thought he sounded like a porn star.
“Yes. Mr. Burnstein. I do know that.”
“Adam, please sit down.” Bernie turned to look at Adam. He was tall and very handsome. In his early sixties, he was tan with bright blue eyes and just enough silver in his coal black hair to look like it was tinted. Adam had copied this man’s look down to the Bruno Magli shoes. Today Mr. Burnstein was wearing a Navy suit and dark purple tie. He had his hands behind him as he spoke. “Adam, you have been at the bank for quite a while.” Adam did not like where the conversation was going.
“Yes sir,” Adam choked.
“Would you like a bottle of water, Adam?”
“Yes sir. That would be nice.”
Mr. Burnstein walked over to the bar. He kept a small refrigerator stocked with cold water and sodas for his clients. On top of the fridge he kept a bottle of Johnny Walker blue for him and his friends. He placed the water on the desk. Adam emptied the bottle is a few short gulps.
“Mr. Burnstein, have I done something wrong?”
“No, Adam, why do you ask?”
“Everyone has been avoiding me, like the plague.” Adam commented.
“Now that you have brought that up, how are you feeling?”
“To be honest sir, not too well.”
“Is everything alright? Have you been to the doctor?”
“Yes. I’ve been to see a doctor,” Adam murmured.
“What did he say?”
“I would rather not answer.”
“OK,” Mr. Burnstein began, “fair enough.” He cleared his throat. “Adam I want you to take some time off.”
“No sir. I have too much to do.”
“Nonsense Adam. I insist. Take off to Arizona and visit one of those Indian reservations that you are so fond of. Maybe the hot dry weather will do you some good.”
Adam hated it when white people called First Nation People, Indians. He thought it was like referring to Asians as Chinks. He knew Mr. Burnstein was being helpful. God knew that Adam could use the time off but part of him felt like he would have no job when he came home.
“Thank you sir.” Adam held his hand out. Mr. Burnstein kept his hands behind his back.
That evening, back at his apartment, Adam was online searching for plane fares to the pueblos in New Mexico. He would love to see an autumn Kachina dance. The men in their glorious costumes dancing around to music made from pipes, drums and few stringed instruments made from gourds. The men played both male and female roles. The autumn ritual of the harvest was to give thanks to the bounty that the earth, sun and sky delivered to the people. Just like in Europe with the festivals of Bacchus for wine and Oktoberfest for beer, the autumn parade was a celebration of intoxication. Native Americans were not known to hold their liquor and were usually thrown in jail for drunk and disorderly or they woke up the next day in some stranger’s bed. Adam sighed remembering the men that slept beside him. Some stayed throughout the next day, leaving his bed to go get something to eat or use the bathroom.
So much could change in a few short years. Adam had lost so much weight that his expensive Italian suits hung on him. His hair was thinning to the point where you could see his scalp. No matter how many times he brushed his teeth, his breath was always bad. The medication was not working. Every three months Harry changed Adam’s regime; nothing made him better. He always had a low grade fever or developed thrush. His skin began showing small purple lesions. He didn’t want to get out of bed. On line he found out there is a form of HIV known as drug resistant. There was nothing that any one could do for him. For the first time in a long time Adam was afraid.
Wrapped up in a Navaho blanket, Adam sat at the computer. He found comfort in reading about the Yup’ik and Aleut tribes of Alaska and Siberia. They were strong people to withstand the harsh cold and long winter nights. They lived off of animal protein like seal and whale. He laughed when he thought of all the people in the city that had to go out of their way to buy gluten free products, when all they had to do was eat whale blubber.
In the late spring the tribes migrated to warmer areas. In the short summer (it lasted about six weeks) the tribes would come together. They would have contests and celebrations of the summer solstice. The bravest would wrestle one another, the winner being declared the Ultimate Warrior.
Adam could picture them lounging in the sun for a short time. Most of the females were pregnant, ready to give birth in the summer. The men found comfort with one another. Adam had read about what was called, Two Souls People, where two braves could be married to one another and be together as a family. Two Souls People were thought of as living on the right hand of God. Adam stared at the screen and sighed.
The goddess Sedna lived in the waters. The Inuit people believed that she was responsible for their wellbeing. She made it possible for them to have enough fish and seal to eat. Some Inuit people celebrated her generous bounty with festivals in the summer as well as the winter.
When the chieftains passed away, some believed that it was best to send them to Sedna, to live through eternity at her side. They were wrapped in caribou skin with tools and weapons that they would need in the next world close at hand.
Adam saw something that caught his eye. When a warrior was mortally wounded in combat, he was laid naked, his weapons next to him, on an ice flow that was cut from the shore and left to drift out to sea to die.
The flight from New York to Anchorage was long. Adam was happy that the flight was half empty it gave him plenty of room to spread out. He tried to watch a movie but nothing kept his attention. He read some from Alaska Airline magazine about ice fishing. One thing the article said was visitors needed to be careful out on the ice for it could be thin and you might fall through. He would keep that in mind.
When he reached the hotel in Barrow he was exhausted. Adam had been traveling for over fifteen hours. The layover from Anchorage to Barrow was five hours and the airport was freezing.
His room was comfortable. It was not The Ritz by any stretch of the imagination but it was clean and the bed was inviting. He took his parka off as well as his boots and climbed into the bed. The thick down comforter weighed down on his emaciated body. He closed his eyes and slept until the following morning.
The long sleep actually made him feel better. He washed his face, brushed his teeth and walked downstairs to the restaurant. He ordered two eggs, over easy with extra bacon, toast and coffee.
Comments