Chapter 8 VIII

CHAPTER 8

As embarrassed as I was, I had to make that call. So I gathered some coins I had begged for on Tara Street, next to the DART station, and plucked up my courage. Since my cell phone was broken, I gave the owner of the Internet cafe 1 euro and googled the phone number. With what I had left over I went to a pay phone.

'Good morning, Mr. Redman.'

'Anna, why aren't you here? You've ruined my project'

'I'm so sorry,' I cried, 'I'm on the street. I don't have a home. Maybe you could...'

She was so surprised that it took her a while to answer.

'Well, I don't have space in my house, unfortunately. What I can offer you is something to earn the money yourself. '

'Give lessons?'

'Sure.'

I took a breath. I didn't know how to explain.

'Professor, I don't look my best for that. I drink too much and I don't want to discredit your image.'

'Let's do one thing. Forget about classes. We'll have time for that. Come to the theater and ask for me at six'.

'Are you going to make me an actress? I'm sorry, but it's not going to work.'

'No, it's not that'

'Then?'

The line went dead. The money had run out. I pounded my fists on the booth. What was that professor trying to do, make fun of me? Everyone knew that amateur theater wasn't a living. I looked awful, so I tried to put my hair up. I went into a public restroom and washed my face. The clothes I was wearing were wrinkled, but not bad.

'Good afternoon, Professor Redman,' I asked the receptionist, a blonde girl with a headband. She looked quizzical. She had recognized me. I wasn't going to worry now about someone who only knew me by sight.

'Go to room 3.'

The building was full of murals. I looked for the right door and knocked. Professor Redman showed no negative emotion. He was simply there to propose something to me.

'Come in, Anna.'

'Hey, if you made me come here to waste my time...', I protested.

'Sit down.'

'Stop staring at me like that,' I complained. 'It was all in my imagination.

'What?' he laughed. 'Listen, I know you really like music, how would you like to become a professional musician?'

I furrowed my brow. It would never have occurred to me. Playing an instrument took time and practice. I was hiding from others, and from myself, Redman said. So he pulled out a guitar and we started with a few chords, something simple. I followed his rhythm, which took about an hour, and when we were both in tune, we started singing:

How long, how long, will I slide, separate my side....

The song defined very well my feelings at that moment. I wondered how long I would go on like that.

I was sorry to see the class end, but that's the way it is in this life. The good and the bad, everything comes to an end.

I returned to the park, where I found Rachel convulsing.

'What's wrong with you,' I stammered. I tried to shout for Bill, but he was sleeping peacefully in the tent. I tried to perform a resuscitation maneuver, but Rachel was unresponsive. She was just foaming at the mouth.

What drug have you taken? Fuck, Rachel,' I reproached her. But she didn't answer. She was just foaming at the mouth.

I put my arms around her shoulders and dragged her through the park. Nobody was there. Not even a security guard.

'Help!'

It was no use. It took forever for me to walk with her clutched like that, until I finally found two Garda officers who were stopped at a traffic light.

'Officers, please help!'

I was lucky they took us to the nearest hospital. The doctor made me wait in a waiting room. There was something that bonded me to Rachel, despite her being a bad example to me. The minutes took forever until the doctor came. He explained that it was an overdose, and then strung together a bunch of incomprehensible medical terms.

Is she going to die, was all I wanted to know.

But no one could give me a satisfactory answer.

'We are doing everything in our power to prevent this.'

I sat back in the chair with my head down. Everyone around showed faces of weariness, sorrow and concern. I wished Rachel was out of the intensive care unit. I wanted to ask her how she had ended up on drugs and living badly in a park. "I'm not going to judge you," I whispered into the air. I looked around, in case anyone was listening, and continued my monologue. "You were working and now you're unemployed, is that it? Come on, tell me. It's okay. Look how I am here. A brilliant student, and there's something tying me to this city. I'd just have to buy a ticket, but I can't. For some reason, I can't. Did you suffer some trauma as a child? Your parents didn't love you? Forgive me for falling into clichés like these. You have to get out of there. Tell me everything. I'm going to help you get out of that shit. I'll stop drinking, if you want. Don't fail me now, hold on a little longer.'

I spent the night lying on the seat in that waiting room in the intensive care unit. Looking at it from a selfish point of view, if Rachel failed me, I would have to work that much harder for money. I tried to avoid those areas where I was known, even though by now everyone must have known what had happened to me.

The doctor came back out to tell me that she was in serious condition, with a guarded prognosis. I was not allowed to go in to see her. I kept asking if she had no family, but Rachel was so reserved that she refused to answer me politely. When she wasn't high she could be a very funny girl. Even I could get a smile out of her. Bill, on the other hand, while not being a bad guy, was boring. He had trouble walking and always complained of body aches.

It wasn't until the next day that the doctor allowed me into the room. Rachel's eyes were rolling.

'Rachel, you're going to get well, aren't you?'

I waited for one of her smiles, but she didn't answer. She barely grimaced, but not a word. Not a single word. I hugged her and gently held her hand until my strength failed me. I needed some food. I explained my situation to the doctor and he sent me to the cafeteria. But no one was going to give me free food. I didn't reproach the waiters. Instead, I started begging for money and food at the hospital entrance. I managed to scrape together a few coins and a sandwich from a kind lady. Satisfied with the result, I left for the theater to meet Redman.

I barely had the strength to play the guitar, but I couldn't give up now. If I made progress, I could get a contract with the city council to perform in the venues and streets. I would finally have a real bed to sleep in. But for now, my back creaked every time I tried to move. "How long, how long," I sang along with Redman, as if time went on forever.