short story: Are You Still Hurting (2/7)

2-comfort stories
Another back tooth was loose. As the musician drove through familiar country roads, she had one hand on the wheel and the other to her face. A finger dug in the back of her own mouth, touching the tooth that caused her such rotting pain. Her anger was as low and constant as the hum of her car engine. If the tooth fell out she was checking herself into a hospital and emptying the candyesque pills down a drain. She could not be a performer with missing teeth. She could not be a performer if she was a caricature of the hick town she had escaped.

The left side of the woman's face throbbed when she made her first stop. A grinding halt in the driveway of her friend's cozy home, the singer slammed on the breaks and smacked the steering wheel with her small fist. She felt nothing close to pain, only more anger.

The large and loyal Mina opened the door for her college friend and the two locked in a stiff embrace. Mina was a heavy but lovely black woman. The singer pulled away before any warmth could be absorbed. She did not want it from this woman. For unknown reasons she did not want affection. She was afraid her sadness, her anger, her fears would be contagious.

"How is your face?" Mina asked, leading the way to her backyard.

Mina’s family was one fortunate enough to possess a beautiful pond where swans and geese bobbed and fish lived out their life, spawning generations of other peaceful creatures. Lives without questions. Lives with no answers.

"My face? You mean the teeth?"

"Duh," Mina snapped. "What else would I be asking about?" 

"They're fine. One in the back is loose. I'm about to give up on these fucking pills." 

"Hey, I have an idea. Feel free to say no." 

"What is it?"

"Why don't you come with me to my family's summer house. Get your mind off the Dr. Seuss pills?"

"Thanks but I'll still have the pills with me, Mina."

"Yeah, but, uh, you'll be thinking about something else. And it's really nice. And big. You could get away from the stress for a while.”

The singer fell reticent. She peered at a goose in the pond. It ducked beneath the water. There was no sound as it disappeared. She anticipated its return but was distracted by Mina’s next words.

"Don't feel bad about taking weird meds, okay? I had to take them too. It's just a phase in your life. It’ll be over soon."

"A phase? Mina, I've had it all my life. It's not a phase. I'll be thirty soon," the woman felt her temper about to bubble to the surface but Mina was not finished.

"I know this story. My mom knows this woman who had to take meds like the ones you take."

The wheat tickled her legs where she sat still watching the smooth surface of the pond, heart rate speeding as Mina continued with her narrative.

"This woman. She's a beauty queen. Kind of like you. She took some pills the way you are now. Weird ones with fucked up side effects. One day her house caught fire and she was so wrapped up in happiness, because of the pills and all, that she was dancing around and singing when the fire started. The firemen saved her and she's charred. But when she looks in the mirror she still sees how she used to look because of the medicine."

The image that flitted through the singer's mind was nothing like comfort. A destroyed body, peering into a mirror and smiling at what she saw while the rest of the world pitied her.

"How is that story supposed to make me feel better, Mina?" the singer finally cracked. "What kind of a story is that? I mean...are you nuts?"

"You don't have to get snippy."

"Snippy? You just told me one of the most horrific stories I've ever heard."

"It's not that horrific. She's happy."

"It's a false happiness!"

"Jesus. You're so sensitive!"

The singer turned her eyes back to the pond, realizing the goose had not surfaced again.