Percival Chapter Two Part Three

The companion looked over and their eyes met. The urge to kick the six doctors working on him welled up. He wanted to yell, scream or tell them that their priorities were out of whack and they should go help that sick man. The companion’s gaze moved back to his partner and he massaged his back.

Percival hated himself for not doing anything. What had he done with his life? He was living on borrowed time, wasted time. He did nothing but sit and rot in his motel room. Sure he went to school but he knew that it was for show. He wasn’t ambitious and lingered around because he knew death loomed over him. A transcript to the State University collected dust under a stack of old book reports. His attention once again returned toward the companion, who began to look agitated. He paced back and forth behind his partner, biting on his fingernails, stopping when the doctor said something. A minute later, he leaned over and whispered something in the sick man’s ear, kissed him on his bald head, and headed out of the laboratory.

“Percival, I’m giving you a new antibotic and we’re going to trace its pathway through your body. That means you must come here sometime next week. Is that possible?” The doctor’s voice broke him from his reverie.

“Yea, sure. How about Wednesday? “ he said and broke his gaze from the sick man.

“Same time then?” said the doctor.

“Sure.” The doctor marked it down in a black book lying next to the computer monitor. Another doctor walked up with a needle. Percival lost track of how many needles he had taken today, and the doctor, with the smell of aftershave, plunged the needle into his bicep.

“You can get ready now. We’re all done here.”

Percival put his shirt back on and headed out to the receptionist. She gave him an envelope with his check in it and exited. The casual dressed gentleman was just outside the hallway as he closed the door. He looked pretty disheveled with his eyes counting the tiles in hallway and his back pressed against a bulletin board poster of a child saying no to drugs. He had an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

Percival wanted to say something to him but he passed by and pushed the button for the elevator. He could feel the gaze of the man against his back. But he couldn’t turn around. He was about to curse the door for not opening soon enough, when it dinged and opened. He rushed inside and let the doors close.

He felt ashamed for not achieving anything with his life and when he looked into those saddened eyes of that stranger, it seemed to tug at him. He let this disease live his life and he it frustrated him. The elevator stopped at the lobby and he shuffled his feet onto the marbled floor where he his reflection of a young man looked up at him, from the floor, very different from the zombie two floors up. He wanted to spit on his reflection.

He thought to himself that he was making a difference that he’s fighting for the cause of AIDS that he might even help with a cure, but as he walked outside, he’d his only motivation was to Clarrisa.

He grew excited on getting her a dress and he conjured a picture of her dolled in an elegant red dress. He needed to buy himself something smooth as well, so he headed down the sidewalk torward a busy intersection where a branch of his bank was so that he could cash his check and call then call a cab to get to the mall.

Percival already planned on getting reservations to the La Pierre Restaurant. He had heard about it was excellent from Philip, who had taken a date out to there and that it was a very upscale. He wanted to wow Clarrisa, make her eyes bulge and her heart thump. He exited the bank with a thousand dollars. He was going to go all out.