love sick (I)

“Is he going to be alright doctor?“ asked mamma Jean once the doctor finished the check up on the young man who laid in bed, eyes glazed and body sweating. “Do tell me doctor, please! the gods know I couldn´t live without my poor Johnny! Is it serious?“, mamma Jean said with tears welling up in her eyes,as she tried -in vain- to read the doctor´s expression, trying to make something out of that cold, hard stare one gets after watching as much pain and suffering as doctors do. Fortunately, this was not a case that would harden even more said gaze,and so, the doctor calmly replied “not to worry ma´am, the boy´s only got a fever,just give a spoonful of this to him every night, let him rest, and within a week, two tops, he´ll be up and up again,“. As he said this, the doctor handed mamma Jean a dark green bottle, filled with what seemed a purple -mamma Jean´s favourite color- liquid which, she thought, smelled like freshly made pinapple jam. Curious, she wanted to ask what was that bottle, and turned to face the doctor to do so, only to find out he had already left the room, and, had not mamma Jean practically chased him through the house, she might have not been able to send him off properly (more importantly, she wouldn´t have had a last time to talk to him, but mamma Jean was far too well-educated to admit that). As she was opening the door for him, she asked “excuse me doctor, but what is that bottle you gave me for?“ As the doctor replied, a faint, unusual spark burst in his eyes, as if what he said was all that mattered in that moment “Why, my dear Jean, it´s medicine for the boy, just what he needs: a pure dose of heavy, raw love; a spoonful a day, not a drop more mind you, ´cause theres nothing so terrible -and overwhelming- as love given without restraint“. Mamma Jean, at hearing this, didn´t know what to make of it, and, before she had the chance to ask the doctor another question, he was already halfway down the street. All she managed to do was shout to him a heartful thankyou. “he must be joking“ she thought, looking down to the bottle she still held in her hand, “after all, It might just be a treat he gave me to comfort my poor Johnny“. And so, with this thought in mind, she went to the kitchen, ready to give her Johnny a spoonful of love.

Johnny had never been much of a ´loving´person -he´d never even liked hugs-, a response, perhaps, to his overly protective mother´s attidue. It wasn´t that mamma Jean did what she did on purpose, thought Johnny, it was just that at twenty a mother shouldn´t still be still asking her son to call her whenever he went out, or insisting on him to be safe when a girl ´asked him to do things´, after all, he´d gone away over two years now and the world still spun. She´d been the last one he called whe he got sick -mamma Jean would never know, of course- but nevertheless, she ended up being the only one available to nurse him. “Just my luck“ thought Johnny, “I started the week asking a girl out on a date, and ended up saturday at my mother´s house“. Just then, there was a knock on Johnny´s door, and mamma Jean came in. “here´s dinner honey, doctor said you needed rest so I brought it up to your room, oh and I almost forgot, he also said you had to take this“ as she said that, mamma Jean handed the bottle and a spoon to her son, who took it and put it in the table besides his bed. His eyes, still glazy from the fever, showed either gratitude or contempt. Without saying a word, mamma Jean left the room, leaving Johnny alone again. As soon as she´d left, he gulfed down the food, and then, reluctantly turned towards the medicine bottle -he wasn´t much of a medicine person either- which to him seemed red coloured. The first thing he noticed when he opened the bottle was the smell: to mamma Jean it had smelled like lillies, to Johnny, it smelled like sex; encouraged by this, Johnny poured himself a spoonful, and tasted it, “holy gods!“ thought Johnny “this tastes like clove cigarrettes!“, greedily, Johnny swallowed the whole spoonful, and then another, and another, and another, until he was satisfied, already feeling better, he went to sleep, hoping the next the he could return to his own place, far away from what used to be his home

The next morning, mamma Jean woke up to a rather happy surprise: breakfast in bed; it seemed to her that Johnny had gotten better sooner than the doctor had predicted, and had developed quite a good humor in the process. “oh honey, you shouldn´t have!“ she told him, looking at the menu her son had made her “oh it´s nothing ma´, I woke up feeling so good after taking that medicine that I felt like doing something to thank you“, and thank her he did: after breakfast, he cleaned up for her, went to the supermarket and, good muses! -mamma Jean almost fainted from excitement when she heard him- he even took her shopping.
It wasn´t until they came back from all this that mamma Jean noticed that Johnny´s glazed eyes were coming back, and so, upong arriving home she sent him to his room, where se brought dinner, just as the night before, this time though, she served him the medicine herself, a quarter of a glass -about five or six spoons- “just to be sure“ she thought. She gave it to her son, who gulped it down like a man who´d been in the desert for too long. After that, he feel asleep.



ahhh la crisis de bloqueo del escritor D= meh lo termino luego u_u