I woke up this morning to huge, white clouds outside the window with no mastery over their bladder. My bed felt a little damp and she was not present at all. Superstitions cannot be that powerful, but here I am alone, in the dark morning. I get up. A note is left on the mini-fridge: please take medicine. Where did she get a flat tip black Sharpie? An orange case containing the Luvox is holding the note in place. I am not sure what kind of tears I’ll cry today.
I have a wedding to go to. The rain is heavy outside, banging on the windows, begging. I have a black tux on, all black. In the mirror I believe I am looking into, it’s all black. I work my way towards the bed once more to grab the never-used glass beside the psalms she had me muse over last night. I set the still-dry glass on the black Sharpie-written note. Instead of the half-empty case next to the glass, I reach for the metal Altoid case. Wintergreen. It is April 10th.
Ron comes into the room and turns the light on. He didn’t knock. He says it’s time to go, we cannot be late. He didn’t ask to turn the light on. His tux looks blue. The light also makes my blues show themselves. He looks at his watch, gold, and iPhone, gold, and the table near the bed. He smiles gold and looks at me. Smiling used to be contagious.
There is a knock on the door. Ron says we need to leave. I look around the room: the mini-fridge, the television, the door to the bathroom, the un-wrinkled sheets on the King-size, the gold King James Version, the windows that only allow the rain to beg – I’ll be back here. There’s another knock. Ron advances to the door, saying we need to go. He opens the door and from my angle, I can only seem him backing up slowly. It looks like his arms are about to raise but then, they go back to his sides. He steps aside and now inside of the wedding suite, a voice whose only authority is the gun being held demands that we give it the money, phones, jewelry we have. The voice says “I will hurt you.” Ron looks naked already. The gold and green he possessed are on the floor. He looks a little teary-eyed. Ron tells me to just do it because we have to get to the wedding. A groom cannot be late.
I walk towards the man. The light is on and from my high school video game knowledge, it looks like a silencer on the gun. No one would blame me. I look at Ron. The voice tells me to hurry up because it has shit to do today. While looking at Ron, I tell the voice my wedding is today. The voice doesn’t care. Mutual feelings. I look at Ron. I hope my eyes look hopeful. I start walking towards the voice – the voice telling me to keep away if I want to attend my wedding. Ron says “oh no” three times. The voice asks him what’s going on. Ron doesn’t answer. He’s on his knees, praying. I don’t understand prayer. The voice aims its barrel somewhere near me. I smile for the first time today.
My phone rings. The voice starts demanding for my phone. I pull my phone out, and answer it. I say “good morning.” She says “where are you?” The voice commands I get off the damn phone or I will be very sorry. I tell her I’ll shortly be in paradise. She says “baby, I can’t wait until we are really together and we are really one and we will keep each other happy.” I think she is crying. The smile fades as usual and I start crying. The voice re-aims the gun at my head. She says “I love you.” Mutual feelings, stronger. I say “I am sorry” and I hang up before she can inquire about my apology. There’s a pile of Ron’s golds and greens. I put my silver phone in the pile, still apologizing to the voice. My greens are put in the pile. I tell the voice that’s all. The voice picks up the colors we had to discard and leaves the room.
Five minutes later Ron finishes his prayer. He sees me standing, in my blues, crying. In one hand I have a full glass of water. In one hand I have some of my prescription mixed with some Altoids. Wintergreen. Ron slowly walks towards the only gold in the room on the bedside table. I tell him, we have to hurry up.