She doesn’t have Anorexia, you moron!
“She doesn’t have Anorexia, you moron! She has Exercise Bulimia. They’re completely different!” Samson could tell that Random was frustrated with the condescending tone of the doctor, but the physician continued, “Both disorders have an anorexic effect on the body, causing muscle tissue to be damaged, in particular, the heart.”
While Random argued with the doctor, Samson tried to piece together what happened. “So, she came barging into your house screaming that you had cursed the Bowen House?” Elvis and Vesta nodded. The old cowboy was so shaken that his wife spoke for him. “She said she had tracked down every previous owner and interviewed them.”
Samson sighed. He had tried to follow Sierra a few of the times he had caught her leaving Merriton, but she had just met people for lunch, just like she told Random. The two of them had been relieved, thinking that she was finally getting over this running thing.
Elvis finally spoke, “When I bought that defibrillator, I thought it was gonna be used on me.” He patted his wife on the knee. “Ya did good, Vesta. You did good.” Random walked over to them and plopped into the empty waiting room chair between Elvis and Samson. “They won’t let me see her.” Samson replied, “She just got out of heart surgery.” Random glared at him and Samson changed his reply, “Oh, sorry. Um… Those bastards?!” Random laughed a little at his joke and then immediately broke down into tears. Samson awkwardly patted him on the shoulder.
Random sobbed, “I thought she was over this. When I took her to Woodleaf ten YEARS ago, she was supposed to be cured.” Samson shook his head. “Sorry dude, she’s never going to be cured. She had trouble in high school when we were friends. She had trouble when you two were first married. She has trouble now. She’s never going to get over this and she’ll always have to fight it.” Elvis’ hand rubbed the red welt above his right eye. “And son, you can’t fight it for her. The more you try, the worse she’ll get.”
The waiting room was quiet. Samson could smell the strange antiseptic scent of the hospital cleaning products. “I knew she had this problem when I introduced you two. Sorry I didn’t warn you.” Random rubbed his face from his forehead down to his chine in one long movement, collecting the tears on his palm. “You know, you said that last time.” Samson was surprised. “I did?” Random nodded. “Yeah.” Samson shrugged. “I guess I still feel guilty.” Random shook his head. “Don’t. I wouldn’t change a thing.” He sighed. “It’s all worth it.”
The PA system called a doctor to a department and the echo of it stung Samson’s ears. After the announcement, the room felt even more quiet than it did before. A silent TV flashed closed captions over a sitcom living room. Samson stood up and turned the TV off.
“You know, our oldest boy has a drinking problem.” Vesta’s calm voice bounced off the room’s walls. Samson walked back to his hard, plastic seat next to Random and sat down. Vesta continued, un-urged, “We tried everything to help him.” Elvis nodded and answered her, in a big, long list, “Bailin’ ‘im out, hidin’ the liquor, watchin’ ‘im all the time…” His voice trailed off, but Samson continued, “Random tried taking away her Nike+, he tried giving her one to encourage her to run reasonably, he tried watchng her every second.” Random broke in, “I even tried to get the gym to take away her membership.”
Samson was surprised. “You did? You didn’t tell me that?” Random smiled wryly. “You’ve been avoiding me.” Samson shook his head. “Not you. Avoiding your house.” The words hung over them like an angry accusation. Samson scanned the room. The outdated tabloids announced that John Mayer was dating Jessica Simpson once again. Samson wasn’t quite sure who either of them were, but the gossip magazine was sure that this time it would work out. It didn’t.
Random finally broke the silence. “What DID you and Artimus DO to that house?!” Samson held his breath. It was the first time Random had admitted that there was something strange going on in the Bowen House.
Elvis looked genuinely perplexed. “I ain’t a witch doctor, boy. I just bought his goats and his extra land. I didn’t need an extra house.” Random raised his hand to his forehead and wiped in one long movement down to his chin. A happy family pushed a young woman in a wheelchair. She held her new baby in her arms while her husband carried a bag and a baby carrier. Their noisy joy echoed down the hall until they disappeared with a swish of automatic doors.
“Seems to me,” Vesta said, “that we shouldn’t have landlocked the house. It might have protected the property from getting bought by developers, but it…” She stopped. Samson saw her struggle for the right words that finally came. “Maybe a house is like a body of water. If it gets stagnate, it goes sour.” Random shook his head. “No that’s not it. It never felt sour to me. Living in that house made me realize who I truly am. I’m not a programmer.” Samson didn’t bother arguing, so Random continued, “I’m a conduit. I bring people together who do great things. It took two years there to realize that.”
“That house ain’t cursed.” Elvis broke in, “The people who buy it are messed up. If we left it how it was, we’d have thirty crappy houses right next door, and no one would notice if they was fallin’ apart or being sold every two years. It’s a farmhouse without a farm. Real farmers don’t want it…” He broke off, and placed a hand on Random’s arm. “No offense to your little lady. Her goats are thrivin’ and healthy. She got a talent there. Can’t deny it.”
Random nodded. “Yeah, she’s great with the goats, but they remind her of growing up as a hippie…” Samson agreed, “Yeah, she HATES hippies…” Samson thought about Sierra with her chest cracked open in the recovery room. Vesta mentioned quietly, “Funny…” Samson and Random turned to face her with questions on their faces and Vesta flustered.
“I was just thinkin’ how funny it was that she was drawn to the life that she hated.” Samson shook his head, but Random answered her, “Drawn? More like dragged. She didn’t want to move here. She didn’t want a goat. She DEFINITELY didn’t want to leave San Francisco. She did it to make me happy.” Samson could see the guilt on his friend’s face.
“Bullshit!” Elvis broke in. “That’s a load of bullshit and don’t you say otherwise. You didn’t force ‘er to move here. Ain’t a wife alive who can’t make her man choose wisely. One temper tantrum from that little girl and you woulda ducked and dodged. Merriton wouldnta been an option if she had pitched a fit like I saw in my kitchen!”
The old cowboy stood up and pointed. “And another thing, most folks woulda just laughed in my face if I tried to pay ‘em with a sickly goat.” He faced Vesta. “‘Member what I said ‘fore I went over there? I said they’d probably just laugh at me. But no!” He faced Random again. “No! What’d she do? She took Mary right outta my hand and started makin’ sure there wasn’t anything poisonous for ‘er to git into. No, she wasn’t drawn to it. She grabbed this life right outta my hand.”
Vesta placed her hand on Elvis’ and he sat down again, instantly calmed. She continued, “It’s like the house makes you more of who you are. Whether you like that person or not is up to you.” Samson shivered at the thought that he would never be good enough. He would always focus on his failures and the only thing he could do about it was to abandon it all.
Random ran his hand over his face. “So, the house IS cursed.” He pulled out his phone, but the doctor was walking toward them down the long hall. Elvis poked him in the side. “Don’t call ‘im a moron. Doctors don’t like it when you call ‘em morons.” There was no time for Random to respond. The doctor pointed at him and said, “You can see her now.”