Dr. Blacklung, I Presume?, Part 3 | |
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Dr. Blacklung, I Presume By: slimv -------------------------------------------------- Chapter 3: Katie's Dad Comes Home --------------------------------------------------- Bill O'Hare pushed open the front door and was greeted by his wife's welcome and a room full of smoke. She asked him how his day had gone. He told her it went well. He didn't tell her about the contract he had almost lost due to his own negligence. He didn't tell her he had come inches from losing his job. As far as his wife was concerned, his day always went well. She didn't need to know the dirt. He wasn't the kind of guy to bring his job back home to his family. "Did you get my message about stopping by the store" asked Margie? "Sure did," said Bill as he put his briefcase by the coat tree and produced two cartons of Benson & Hedges from the paper bag under his arm. "I'll just put them in the cupboard." "Hey Daddy, can you open the carton and give me a pack before you put them away?" "Hi Cupcake. I didn't see you sitting there. How was your day? Your mom told me you were going to McPherson Elementary today. Do you think you got their attention?" Katie was Bill O'Hare's pride and joy. He couldn't take his eyes off her as he crossed the room opening the carton of Benson & Hedges. His heart ached at the sight of his beautiful sweet Katie sitting on the couch be side that monstrous oxygen tank. She wasn't wearing the mask and a cigarette was burning between her fingers. "That Oxygen isn't turned on young lady, is it?" He knew it wasn't. His daughter was responsible. She wouldn't blow their house up. He placed the pack of cigarettes on her lap and bent forward, kissing her on the cheek. She kissed him back. He should be used to it by now. She'd been smoking in front of him since she was 11. But the smoker's fragrance that radiated from her had a way of making him do a double take. His little girl smelled like a grown woman. Cigarettes will do that for a girl. She tried to say thank you but barked instead. "Are you OK Cupcake? Is your chest bothering you today?" "I'm OK Daddy. You don't have to worry about me you know. I get enough of that from Mom." She picked up the disposable cup that sat beside her ashtray on the coffee table. She hated hocking up the crap in her chest in front of her Dad, but it was better t han drowning in front of him. Bill O'Hare stood by helplessly as his daughter wretched the contents of her lungs in to the cup. That was another thing he hadn't gotten used to- the sounds his daughter's body made as it slowly succumbed to the emphysema within it. Her coughing had become like background music in their home. But unlike background music, Bill heard every word of his daughter's swan song. "Thanks for the cigarettes Daddy. I was getting low. Thought I might have fight Mom for the last pack if you forgot them." Katie coughed. It was productive and phlegm struck and stuck to her father's bright white shirt. "I'm sorry Daddy. I didn't mean to do that." "Its OK Honey," said her father as he wiped his daughter's lung snot from his shirt. "It wasn't your fault. It's just those damn cigarettes. Are you sure you should still be smoking those full flavor jobs. Your mom and I talked about it last night. Maybe you should start smoking the Lights. And maybe after you get used to them you could smoke the Ultra Lights. Who knows maybe you could even give them up eventually." The look on her face told him he had overstepped his bounds. Katie's nostrils flared and her eyes flashed. The trembling from her anger made lighting her cigarette impossible. She told her self she shouldn't get upset with either him or her mom. They just said stuff like that because they loved her. Bill took the lighter from his daughter's hand. She accepted the light without thanking him and brushed her long blond hair from her eyes as she exhaled. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly covered it with her hand to catch the next cough. She was still upset and she wheezed when she was upset. She needed her oxygen but she needed her cigarette more. Damn these fucking cigarettes she thought. Her mother ran over, cigarette in hand and concern plastered across her face. "Take it easy Honey. Calm down. You don't need to get upset. It's so bad for you when you get upset." "Then why do the two of you make it your life's mission to upset me?" wheezed Katie. "Maybe you should put the cigarette out and have some oxygen Honey. What do you think? Would you like that? Would you like your Daddy to turn on your oxygen?" Katie glared at her mom as she pulled on her cigarette like a pacifier. She shouldn't be angry with them she knew. But it was just so hard. Every thing they said came out the wrong way. "What did I say?" asked her father. "Was it about the Light cigarettes? It was just a suggestion. Why does that bother you?" Bill O'Hare was overwhelmed by the tone of his daughter's anger. Every word she spoke at him arrived in his face on the back of a smoky exhale. "What the fuck do you know about Light cigarettes Dad? You don't even smoke for crying out loud. Who the hell are you to say I'd get used to them. I'm dying Daddy. I'm sorry. You'll never know how sorry I am for doing this to my self. You' re right it's not me. It's the shit in my chest screaming at you and at me. God I hate my self so much. But I love my cigarettes. Does that make any sense to you Daddy? I know how much it pains you and Mom to see me smoke my self to death. I hate it for you two and I hate it for Kenny. I wish you didn't have to see me like this. But why can't you understand that as much as I hate dying I love smoking! I can't explain it. I just do. I don't want to smoke light cigarettes Daddy. I want these," she said as she lifted the gold pack of Benson & Hedges for her father to admire. "You were with me at the doctor's so stop acting like this is something that will go away and just accept it and let me accept it. You were doing so well! I was just telling mom today how you understood but you don't do you? "What did the doctor say Daddy? Tell me what the doctor said?" The scene was too much for her mom. She threw her hands over her face and whimpered as she left the room for the safety of the kitchen. Bill O'Hare fought back his own tears. He had to be strong for his angel. He sat down beside her on the couch and mouthed the words he so despised. "The doctor said the air sacs in your lungs aren't deflating like they should." "And what does that mean Daddy. Go ahead and say it. It's not a dirty word. It's just a disease but I want to hear you say it." "The doctor said you have Emphysema." "That's right. He did say that. And what else did he say?" Bill squirmed on the couch. "He said there isn't a cure and that the damage to your lungs is permanent and it will get worse not better." "Very good," coaxed Katie. "And what did the doctor say about light cigarettes?" "The doctor said it didn't matter whether or not you smoked light cigarettes or regular cigarettes because the smoke is all the same to your lungs. He said it's the nicotine and the tar that makes you feel good and you're going to get worse no matter what you sm oke?" "I am so glad to know you were there with me and heard what I heard. Now tell me what the doctor said about me quitting. Do you remember what he said?" Bill looked at his daughter for compassion. And it dawned on him. Why was he looking at her for compassion? He should be the one giving it to her. He looked her over from head to toe. He found it hard to believe something as physically perfect as her could have evolved from him. How many times had he called her his angel? Many times but never enough. He remembered his pain and horror when Margie told him Katie was smoking. Not Katie. Not his daughter. She was the last girl he would have ever suspected of placing a cigarette to her lips. She was the girl next door, the cheerleader, the Miss Everything. How could she be a smoker? He was angry at first. In the beginning he was angry with her. How could she do something so stupid? What business did an 11-year-old girl have with her mother's cigarettes? He would put a stop to it. No daughter of his, no angel of his was going to smoke cigarettes. His heart had sunk when Margie told him this wasn't a new thing. She hadn't just started. Three years! He was in sheer disbelief and shock when Margie told him she had been smoking since she was 8 and had hidden it for the last three years. He thought he would die when his wife told him their daughter was addicted and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The addiction was permanent. They had to give her permission to smoke. "The doctor said you're addicted and you can't quit smoking." With that said, Bill O'Hare, mountain of a man that he was, broke down like a child and laid his head on his daughter's shoulder and bawled like a baby. He cried for him self, he cried for his wife, but most of all he cried for his hopelessly addicted daughter. He felt Katie's embrace. The smoke from her cigarette wafted to his face and burned his eyes and nose but he didn't pull away. She was his daughter. She was a smoker and he loved her. She raked her fingers through her his hair as she wondered what had gotten into her besides the emphysema. She had lost it and had gone postal on her father. It was all the frustration and angst of her condition. It ate at her emotions as it ate at her lungs. It wasn't as if she had cancer. No cancer she thought. That should make her feel better but it didn't. What she had was worse than cancer. The emphysema was robbing her of her youth. If she made it to 30 she wouldn't enjoy it. She felt terrible enough as it was. She couldn't imagine another 14 years of feeling this way. Lung cancer would be a blessing over this slow agony. The cigarette between her fingers had burned itself out at the filter. She didn't want to disturb her dad and had allowed ashes to fall on her dress and on his lap. As she sat on the couch holding her weeping father she began to weep for her self. Except for the cigare ttes, she had always been a good girl. She loved her church. She loved her school and her friends. She loved her parents. And she loved Kenny. She cried for the wedding they would never have and for the babies they would never make. She cried because she was still a virgin and she cried because she would die one. Kenny was her prince. He always had been and she ached between her thighs when she thought of his kisses. They had been best friends since kindergarten, but even so she couldn't bring her self to tell her best friend that she had started smoking when she 8, nor when she was 9 or 10. Kenny found out when everyone else, but he was the first to know. It was he who convinced her to tell her parents. And it was Kenny who stood by her when her other so-called friends mocked her by calling her names like Dragon Breath and Cloud Mouth. She had never thought of him like a boyfriend until he asked her out six months ago. And even then she thought he asked her ou t because of pity. After all no one else would have her, not in that way. With his help and support she had over come the issues of being a pre-teen smoker. He had stood behind her and had helped her stand tall. She made new friends- better friends. And these new and better friends didn't call her Dragon Breath or make fun of her. They respected her as a human. And she thrived by his side. He had always been there for her through good times and bad. It was he she so excitedly told about being asked out on a date for the first time. And it was he who she cried to when she felt humiliated afterwards. The boy's name was Brandon Owens and he was a friend of Kenny's. She had always had a crush on him, so when Brandon asked her out she thought her dreams had come true. The first thing he said when he picked her up was that she couldn't smoke in his car. That was OK with her. She knew smoking was disgusting and she felt fortunate that he had even asked her out. She wouldn't dream of smoking in front of him. He was an athlete and his body was so powerful. She would never bring her self to defile him with her second hand smoke. She remembered taking that last puff from her cigarette and crushing it out as she pranced out the door behind Brandon. He didn't tell her where he was taking her. She was young and naive. He was two years older. A dinner? A movie? She didn't know. She didn't care, as long as she was with him. She wasn't even concerned when he brought the car to a stop in a dark parking lot. It wasn't until he told her to get in the back seat that things didn't seem quite right. She asked if they weren't going somewhere. Brandon laughed and she laughed nervously with him until he let her in on the joke. She was the joke. Brandon told her he wouldn't be caught dead with her. He told her she was cute, maybe even beautiful. But didn't she know? Didn't she get it? Guys like him don't go out with girls like her. He couldn't let people see him with a girl that smokes. Did she think he was crazy? He wasn't going to take her some place where people they knew might see them together. He told her to roll down the window because the stench of the stale smoke that clung to her was starting to make him nauseous. That's when the truth hit her. That's when she knew she had swallowed the lies whole. Smoking wasn't sexy. It wasn't glamorous or sophisticated. It was filthy and disgusting and made her a whore. Brandon told her to get in the back seat and he would fuck her. But he warned her not to kiss him because that would be just too disgusting. And he told her never to tell anyone about it because if she did, he would deny it and it would be the last time she had his cock. The truth hurts and he had destroyed her with his words. She opened the door and climbed out of the car. He didn't even come around to his side to open the back door. It wouldn't have mattered because she wasn 't getting in. Not tonight- not ever. She turned her back to Brandon and began walking as he shouted at her to come back. As the distance between them grew, Brandon realized he wasn't going to get laid and he chased her with obscenities. You fucking bitch, he screamed! You smoking whore! Dragon Breath Bitch! Minutes later his car sped past her as he laid on the horn. She stood alone in the parking lot under the light of a security pole and removed the pack of friends from her purse. Friends? She cursed her cigarettes as she lit one. The smoke rose from her face in a siluette against the backlight of the street lamp. She was beautiful but she didn't know it. It wasn't her father she called from the pay phone. It was Kenny. Fifteen minutes later, he and his dad arrived to pick her up at the gas station. She told him about what happened with Brandon. He told her not to worry about it- that Brandon was a piece of shit. But she did worry about it. She worried about seeing him in school on Monday. She remembered closing her locker and looking down the hall. Brandon was moving toward her not looking at her. He was looking away. She felt dirty and disgusting. Just seeing him made every nerve in her body scream. She needed a cigarette. She needed to run, but she stood her ground and stared him down. He walked past her without looking, without acknowledging her. The side of his face was one big bruise. He was wearing sunglasses but Katie could see from the side that the glasses were covering a busted black eye. And she knew right away where he had gotten his wounds. Kenny had said nothing about taking revenge on Brandon's face. He just told her not to worry about it. The experience with Brandon had turned her off dating. She would never allow her self to be put in another such humiliating position. She would not be some guy's smoking slut of a pincushion. But that was then and this was now. Sitting on the couch holding her father, thinking of her life that would never be, she wondered if maybe should have let Brandon have her that night two years ago. At least she wouldn't die a virgin. And her thoughts turned to Kenny. He loved her and she knew this. But he hated that she smoked. He'd never come out and say it but how could he not hate it? When she tried to quit, she had tried for him. But like every other time she tried, regardless of the reason, she failed. She was a slave to her cigarettes. But that was what made Kenny special. He knew this and he accepted it and he accepted her. She thought about his kisses and how she longed for them, especially now. She knew how difficult it must be for him to put his tongue in her mouth but he did it for her. The sacrifices he made. Kenny was her best friend and she was in love with him. He always told her he would do any thing for her and she wondered now if he would. |
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