"I don't want to talk about this."

"Well, I do! Promise me you won't choose her. Helen is trouble, Adrianne. She might be good for an afternoon fuck, but that's it."

"I don't want to talk about this."

"You're going to have to deal with what's going to happen after I'm gone sooner or later."

Adrianne closed her eyes tight. "I don't want to talk about this," she repeated.

"Adrianne," Antoinette said. "Adrianne!"

Adrianne stood up to leave.

"All right, all right, don't go. Just sit down."

Antoinette began to organize cards in front of her, forming lines as if preparing to play solitaire. The sounds of ruffling cards and beeping machines filled the void. Adrianne was absorbed in the movements of her hands. They were jittery, long and thin. Antoinette could still write and use the computer, but after a while she became so tired. Her body couldn't keep up with her mind. It frustrated her. Adrianne would do anything to have Antoinette back the way she had been.

"I don't want you talking about dying anymore."

Antoinette raised a corner of her mouth in an anemic grin and said, "Okay."

Antoinette began coughing. She raised herself slightly and bent over to hack so deeply that phlegm flew out. Adrianne wiped her mouth with a tissue.

They were waiting by a river for the boat that would come all too soon. When it did, they both knew that Antoinette would be a passenger. She was leaving, and Adrianne couldn't stop her. She desperately wanted Antoinette to get up from her bed and walk. They could go anywhere she wanted. She'd take her to the ends of the world, if only she didn't get on that boat.

"I don't want you to leave me," Adrianne said, her lungs like canisters of warm jelly. The water of sorrow ran like a river down the curve of Adrianne's cheek. She wiped it away, but more freely came.

"Come here, baby," Antoinette said.

Adrianne carefully snaked through the tubes and wrapped her arms around Antoinette. Antoinette was a tiny bird. So light and delicate like lace. Her ricey hair was balding in spots. It was once so full and beautiful, a bounty of curls and waves. Adrianne kissed her scalp and folded her into her chest.

"You're my baby always," she said. "And I'm your girl 'til the day I die."

** RESET **

In the stillness and the shadows, among the crumpled clothes scattered about the floor and the dust bunnies that roamed the bedroom like tumbleweeds in a ghost town, lay Adrianne. The curtains were drawn. Lines of light slipped through the edges and along the seams. They hadn't been open for ... since ... It had been a while. It was day outside. There was life out there. And Adrianne wanted no part of it. They called it heartache because that was what it was, the heart ached and moaned for the hurt. An agonizing numbness wrapped around her chest like a vise. Antoinette was gone. And there was nothing that was gonna bring her back.

The doorbell rang. Adrianne kept her eyes shut.

A pounding on the door.

"I know you're in there! Open up, honey, it's me!" Helen shouted.

Leave me alone. God, just leave me alone.

Keys tinkled in the lock. The damn bitch still had the set that Adrianne had given to her long ago for emergencies. Adrianne sank deeper into the bed and twisted in the sheets. Helen entered, stepping through the apartment. Kitchen plates clicked, water ran over days of unwashed dishes, chairs scraped the floor. Magazine pages flipped in the living room, papers were rifled through, the letters and bills that had been left scattered on the coffee table were shuffled into stacks. Then slowly the bedroom door opened.

"Adrianne?" she whispered.

Silence.

"Adrianne, are you in here?"

"Please leave me alone," Adrianne said. Her throat was dry and hoarse from disuse. Words were useless. Only in her dreams did she speak or sing or dance.

Helen sat down at the edge of the bed. Just let me sleep, Adrianne thought, I'm warm under these sheets. Cocooned from everything. It was easier to live in dreams than to feel the harshness of the air and the light and the sounds. Only sleep was a solace for sorrow.

"Honey ... look at you. ..." Helen paced her words. This was a delicate operation.

"Please, go away."

"I'm your friend. I can't leave you like this. ... I know it hurts, but it's been months. ..."

"Leave me alone!" Adrianne screamed. Her words spewed forth like hot liquid.

"I will not leave you alone!"

Adrianne could feel Helen's hand searching through the sheets to find her. It landed on her arm.

"Antoinette would not want this for you. It's been too long. Today you're getting cleaned up and going out into the sun. We are going outside together and having a nice meal somewhere like normal people." She flung back the sheets, exposing Adrianne to the cold.

The shower stall was a clear glass-enclosed closet. Steam was her only curtain. Water spread over her like a cleansing rain. Its warmth stimulated her limbs and soaked her skin. Shampoo with the scent of lilac splashed into her eyes and stung. She scrubbed and scrubbed, then shaved. Dry flaky skin turned into a darkened flow where it streamed toward the drain and gathered with the foamy remains of soap. Adrianne was angry with Helen for invading her space, and she loved her for it. Her presence outside the bathroom door made Adrianne feel responsible, somehow. Not better, just more responsible. She had to clean up; someone was here. She had to eat; someone was watching. She had to shave her armpits; someone could smell.

Adrianne turned off the water and stood enshrouded in a steam so thick she could hardly breathe. Nothing held her, only the moist air. She was lost in time, surrounded by a warm humidity, while thoughts of Antoinette, buried and decomposing in the soil, whirled in her mind. She hugged herself and rocked as if in prayer, then leaned against the wet tile, moaning softly to herself.

"Hey, you all right in there?" Helen shouted from the other side of the door.

"I'm fine," Adrianne said too quickly, with a flash of fear that Helen might come inside.

"You're so quiet. ... Okay, take your time. When you come out, I have a surprise for you."

Adrianne sat on the toilet and let the warm pee stream out of her. Then she stood and stared, mesmerized by her yellow creation. She flushed. Her moist hand wiped the fogged mirror of the medicine cabinet. Facing back was her and not her. She was somebody else. Someone she didn't recognize. Someone she didn't want to recognize.

"Sweetie?" The door quietly opened and Helen's head came into view. "Oh, honey ..." she said as she let herself in. She put her arms around Adrianne's shoulders, then brushed back her wet hair.

"I'm getting you out of this morbid place. At least for one afternoon you're going to forget all this."

"But I don't want to forget."

"You can't live like this." They stared at each other in the mirror.

Adrianne nodded.

"Come on and get dressed." Helen led her back to the bed to sit while she rummaged through the closet. In her right mind she would have told Helen to get the hell out of there. Nobody touched her clothes. Or told her how to dress. But that was before. The hangers scraping against the wooden closet pole sounded like birds screeching. At last Helen emerged with her silk red blouse and a dark blue pair of pants. She held the outfit up proudly. "I always liked you in this shirt, and these will look good with it, don't you think?"

Adrianne took the clothes and began putting them on without questioning Helen's taste.

"I've got a surprise for you," Helen said. "I scored two tickets to this afternoon's games, and you and I are going!"

Adrianne made a questioning face.

"It will be fun! There might even be some celebrities in the audience."

Adrianne didn't know what the hell she was talking about. She had never known Helen to have an interest in sports. Adrianne sighed. The small breath released some of her melancholy.

"But first, there is lunch. I know this cute little place downtown where we can sit outside and eat and watch the people go by."

The smells of the city were strange - new - different. The faintest hint of fresh dung lingered from somewhere. Adrianne remembered that smell from when she was a kid and the neighbors spread manure on their vegetable garden. It was a sweet, stinky smell she found secretly pleasant. Maybe there was a horse-drawn carriage or a police horse nearby? But they were a bit far from the park where such things could be found. Her mind drifted as she sat across from Helen in an open-air cafe on the sidewalk, corralled by large potted plants and velvet ropes outside a restaurant with dining tables and flowers and menus and customers who ate and laughed and drank and smoked and were as carefree as she felt careworn.

"What are you having?" asked Helen.

"What?" said Adrianne.

"What are you going to order?"

The menu lay in front of her, ignored.

"I'll have whatever you're having," Adrianne said.

"Come now, don't be so boring. Pick something for yourself. How about the soup?"

"Sure, the soup will be fine."

She went back to searching the street for the source of the mysterious scent. Something rustled in the bushes across the street. She squinted into the leaves to see what was there. A pigeon? A sparrow? A rat? Helen was speaking. Adrianne heard the words but found herself mesmerized by a bird flying above. It circled around and around, dipping and coasting, disappearing behind the top of the building across the street, then reappearing to turn in a large O again. She had seen such strange things of late. Things she could hardly grasp and hold onto as real.

"Adrianne?"

"Hmm."

"You okay, hon?"

"I'm fine."

The soup arrived. She tasted it. It was warm and needed salt.

"How is the soup?"

"It's good."

"That's what you needed, something warm in your stomach," Helen said.

From the corner of Adrianne's eye, movement. The creature in the bush rustled the leaves. Then a singular gust of wind from high above. The bird - a hawk? an owl? - graceful wings outstretched. Swooped down. Grabbed the mysterious thing out of the bush. A squeal? A screech? A scream? Then they were gone.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"That ... over there."

Helen glanced over. "What?"

"Never mind," Adrianne said.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Adrianne forced a smile.

"We should hurry. The ride up to the stadium can be a bitch, but if we leave right after lunch, we should be there in time." Helen said, touching Adrianne's hand.

The stadium's archways were tall enough to accommodate giants. They curved high above her head, creating a sense of awe that was surely the designer's intent. Adrianne felt small against them, diminutive. She looked up and spun in place for a single turn as she took it all in. Her head continued to spin even after she stopped moving. Dizzy, out-of-place, insignificant. Helen grabbed her hand and pulled her into line, bouncing with tickets in hand as giddy as a child about to receive forbidden candy. She reached around and half-hugged Adrianne, rubbing her back. After a few moments of this, Adrianne took hold of Helen's hand as if in affection, but really to still its movements.

They stood in the line for those who already had tickets, and still it was very long. There were a surprising number of women among the attendees. Maybe close to half of those waiting were casually dressed females, looking as if ready to go to the market, in mostly blue denim and T-shirts with cheery slogans spread across their chests. A few sported team colors. Some of the more flamboyant ones painted wide swatches of blue, red, and white makeup across their gleeful faces.

All was orderly for those long moments spent waiting. Then the crowd shifted position like a formless sea and parted. The crush of it pushed Adrianne aside, then moved her back. The swell eventually passed like a shifting tide. She searched for the cause and found it in a woman dressed in perfect white - a white linen summer dress, white sandals , and a white scarf wrapped around her head. A little man walked before her, easing people out of the way. She glided like a white shadow, her back straight and proud, and entered an archway that seemed reserved for her. Her little guardian minded her back as she entered.

Adrianne and Helen sat in seats only twenty rows from the oval space below. Thick glass separated the audience from the field and circled the stadium. Banners blaring team names fluttered in the wind in bold reds and blues and stripes of black bordered on white. The Ravens. The Tridents. The Vulcans.

On each side of the arena, jumbo screens displayed animated fireworks between the scrolling names of the players in the games. Booming through the loudspeakers, a squeaky, high-pitched voice sang over a raunchy dance beat. Then the music changed to a bombastic marching tune, and the doors on the sides of the field opened and a pair of horses ran free. Some cheered within the shuffles and murmurs and loud conversations of those still searching for their seats.

"Wait here, I'm going to get us some popcorn," Helen said and left Adrianne alone to wonder what was in store for her this afternoon.

The sounds of the horses' hooves jerked at her heart as they galloped wild with tremendous speed and power. The vibrations shook the glass walls. The scene was breathtaking. What was unclear, though, was what the horses were doing here. For that matter, what she was doing here? This was hardly her idea of fun. And why were so many women at this sporting event? She counted them, mentally sizing them up. How many were in need of cheer like her? How many were here to forget? Helen meant well, Adrianne thought as she watched the show, but she wanted to leave.