For just a moment, Josef thought that Charlie was having a seizure. But the tears, the heart rending wail… he knew otherwise a fraction of a moment into Charlie’s mournful outcry. ‘Oh no… someone died… someone important.’ Josef recognized the state of the man, recalling when his own mother had been killed by a drunk driver because she’d been crossing the street to get medicine for him.

Josef wanted to tell his friend to calm down, he wanted to give him shit, make a joke, do anything to stop the outpouring of emotion that seemed to have no end. But instead, he grabbed a chair and batted the old fast food wrappers from the table and just sat down beside Charlie near the head of the bed.

He waited.

He waited while Charlie’s screams of loss tore through a throat never meant to make those sounds.

He waited.

The pain in Charlie’s throat finally forced a halt to his cries, but the flailing limbs, kicking feet, if it had been a child, it would have been a tantrum. Charlie flung himself back over and over again.

But Josef only waited. ‘Charlie really let himself go… man if he was at his peak, he could have kept that up for a while.’ Josef thought, recalling the way Charlie pushed himself in college. The iron jaws clenched in determination, the sweat of his brow, the untiring, fixed look that never wavered from his goal. ‘Who did you lose out there…?’ It defied explanation, but as things were, he couldn’t ask. ‘He’s not ready.’ Josef could tell.

Charlie felt his breathing begin to slow, though it was still deep gulps of air, a steady choking sort of noise, it was gradually coming back under control.

“S-Sorry about that, Josef.” Charlie said, wiping his eyes with the back of his arm. His eyes stung and were still blurry, but he saw Josef stand up.

“Nah man, don’t worry about it, ah… stay there, let me grab you something to wipe that off with.” Josef remarked, seeing Charlie’s flushed red face and the bit of snot and tears that threatened to run into his unkempt facial hair.

“Uh huh.” Charlie said and snorted, hard.

Josef stepped over the piles that were gradually reclaiming the path to the kitchen. Tipped over cereal boxes were scattered about, as were empty cans, bottles, and so on. He reached for the light and flipped it on, immediately he saw scores of roaches run for cover when the lights flickered on. It remained somewhat dim, he glanced up to see why. ‘Lightbulbs, half of them are dead.’ He confirmed, then reached up and tapped the bulb of the overhead fan, nothing happened. Clearly it was blown out.

He glanced in the direction of a squeak and saw only the spindly glimpse of a rat’s tail rushing out of sight.

There were no paper towels to be found. He cast his eyes around, there were dishtowels in the sink, he reached for one, then stopped and drew his hand back. The foul smell of piss hit his nose. ‘He hasn’t…’ Josef told himself, then glanced around the kitchen while he tried to recall where the door should be. The apartment bathroom allowed access from both sides, but the other side on Charlie’s end was blocked up by a carpet of trash that had obviously grown up over weeks.

His eyes followed the line of garbage toward the door, and true to his horror… ‘White trash bags just… all over the place. By god man where have you… been…’ Josef swallowed, and the stench of urine was joined by the newly noticed scent of human waste, it ‘lingered’ in his mouth as the sense of smell and taste blended. ‘I can taste the stink…’ The trash can was empty, the sink smelled like piss, the toilet access blocked. ‘I will not ask, I can’t handle the truth, I don’t want to know how long he’s been shitting in the trash can.’ Josef promised and, despite his sense of growing dread, made his way toward the room.

He grabbed tied off white bags and shoved them away, stepping gingerly through the debris, he shuddered when his hand closed on the bag and something ‘squished’ like wet clay under his grip within the plastic.

Clearing the door was thankfully easy, if nasty, and he pulled it open, the metallic clink of soda cans and single serving meal cans resounded against one another and scraped over the tile kitchen floor until he reached in and swept his hand up and down the wall for the lightswitch.

A ‘click’ noise later and a light came on. This did nothing to hearten him, ‘It’s gone unused.’ The smell practically knocked Joseph back just as the thought came to his head, he opened the door wider, then rushed to the kitchen, opened up a series of windows, and watched several birds fly away almost immediately. He pitied them for the exposure to the stench, and envied their ability to escape it so easily. ‘Lucky birds.’ He thought and stuck his head out the window. He leaned out, allowing stench to wash past him, ‘I’m burning these clothes after I’m done.’ Josef promised himself.

“The bathroom is a bit of a mess, it’s been… broken, for… I don’t know how long. Maybe the day I got back, I guess?” Charlie said from the other room.

“Right! Thanks man!” Josef said, looking back of his shoulder and calling out with as much sincerity as he could muster while trying to suppress the urge to vomit.

He took long, deep breaths before pushing off the window sill and standing back upright again. The bathroom was a challenge. The challenge awaited. ‘I do not back down from challenges…’ It was the sheer absurdity of the thought that helped drive Josef to take the step forward, back towards the stench and foulness within.

‘Josef is a goddamn saint. How the hell did I get a friend like that…?’ Charlie asked himself, minutes later the fermented smell of the open bathroom reached where Charlie lay on his bed, and the sound of rummaging, hasty, almost desperate like someone searching for a first aid kit, reached Charlie’s ears.

The slamming doors of the cabinet beneath the sink, the opening and closing of the mirror up over it that Charlie hadn’t seen in… ‘Has it really been months? How many times have I just ‘zoned out’ for a week? What day is it even now?’ He no longer knew, it was the first moment that he realized that he had not noticed the date since his flight home.

He fell back, pinching his nose shut and breathing through his mouth as little as possible while he tried to recall what he could.

His heart still ached, it was tight in his chest, throbbing in pain as if it were struggling to endure a fresh stab wound, the weeks and weeks of numbness punctuated with quiet despair left him forced to catch up on everything he’d been unable to feel fully in all that time.

Charlie squeezed his eyes shut tight against the roiling battle between his guts and his heart, then forced his face to something more neutral, turning his face to the wall as Josef returned to the room.

“Hey, you’re in luck, I found one unopened box in the back corner under your sink.” Josef said and peeled away the top of the box. The perforated cardboard tore in a series of pops and Josef reached in to pull the ghost white tissues out through the thin plastic lined hole. “Here, blow, wipe your face, tell me what’s going on buddy.” Josef said in a hushed sort of voice that stirred a vague memory of Charlie’s venture into painting in high school. The soothing voice of Bob Ross describing how he was putting a tree into place or creating ripples in the water by an old wooden mill on canvas.

Charlie took the tissue and blew his nose a few times, then casually tossed the tissue away without thinking, indifferent to where it landed in the pile.

Josef was about to speak, his mouth opened, then closed.

Silence except for the sound of a rustling in the kitchen.

“I think you’ve got a rat, or a mouse, or something.” Josef said.

“Mhmm.” Charlie shrugged.

“Charlie… let me help you? This isn’t you man. Something is going on… are you depressed or something? Is work going alright? What happened with your project… are you sick, did somebody die?” Josef ran through the options until Charlie shut his eyes again.

Even facing away from him, Josef could feel the tension in Charlie’s body.

‘If only I could say…’ Charlie thought.

Instead he said, “Hey… Josef, tell me something.”

“Yeah, man?” Josef asked, leaning forward a little and resting his forearm on his knee.

“If you had only one day left to live, how would you spend it?” Charlie asked, slowly rolling over on his side so that he was looking up at the gentle giant again.

Josef thought that over, ‘I didn’t expect that…’ He thought of the question, but then reached up and stroked his chin for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess… if I knew I was going to die the next day, I’d call everybody I loved that I couldn’t be with and tell them that I loved them. Then I’d try to be with the friends I’ve got here in the neighborhood and maybe play another game of football or basketball.”

“Join the rest of the world… and your grandfather, and learn to like soccer.” Charlie forced the tease and Josef gave a big toothy grin and a shake of his head.

“Nope.” Was the big grocer’s succinct reply, along with defiantly crossed arms.

Charlie laughed at him, and it ached, but he sat up, then stood and stepped around the chair, he winced almost immediately.

“Gah!” He cursed and yanked his foot back.

“What happened?” Josef asked when he saw Charlie’s hand go down and his foot come up.

“I stepped on something sharp and pointy while trying to get around you, big oaf.” Charlie said and bent down, he was careful when reaching under the trash and pulled out another thick piece of blue glass. “It’s this…” He said, holding up the finger length curved, thick painted fragment of a bowl.

“Need help?” Josef asked, and Charlie shook his head.

“I can… yeah I can do this.” He replied and took the bowl fragment into the kitchen, he set it down by its mate where it landed with a delicate ‘think’ noise. Then he ran some water into the foul smelling sink and began to clean his foot. The rushing noise of water echoed off the silver colored metal, and with nothing else for it, he wet the sleeve of his tracksuit to wipe down the blood.

“If you say so. But I don’t mind as long as you’re not expecting another foot massage.” Josef replied from the main room without looking over his shoulder.

“That was college, it was to get into the frat, and you volunteered. Plus there was a lot of alcohol and I was blindfolded.” Charlie excused it… again, prompting another mocking laugh.

When Josef’s deep rich laughter began to fade, Charlie spoke again from the other room.

“So… what if it wasn’t you?” Charlie pressed.

“What do you mean?” Josef furrowed his brow.

“What if it was someone you knew, what if you knew someone was dying, but maybe… maybe they didn’t know. Maybe they thought they were going to get better. Or maybe they didn’t even know they were sick, but you knew there was nothing you could do for them, nothing anyone could do, would you tell them?” Charlie asked, wiping away the blood from his foot using the sleeve of his tracksuit.

‘I should probably find something cleaner…’ He told himself, but instead he waited to listen to his friend’s answer.

From the other room, the sound of Josef’s hand scratching his scalp through the thick head of hair reached Charlie’s ears. “That’s a thinker. I guess… I guess it would depend, I don’t know. I mean I think I probably ‘should’ tell them so they can choose what to do with their remaining time. But on the other hand maybe they’re better off with comfort. I saw a show once where a woman was dying in a hospital after a fire, she thought the rest of her family made it out, but actually she was just the last one to die. The ones talking to her told her that her family was outside waiting for her. She died, happy that they were alright. What good would telling her the truth have done?”

‘That’s true…’ Charlie thought, “What good would it do…?” He asked rhetorically, and at least temporarily made a decision. ‘I know I have to think this through further but… for now… he’s right.’ Charlie answered the agonizing question, and as he returned to the main room, Josef renewed the question.

“So… what’s with all that and… all this? Come on… look, if you don’t want to talk to me, let me get you to somebody who can help you. This isn’t healthy-” Josef’s worried words were cut off when Charlie answered him.

“Josef, I’m dying.” Charlie said in blunt terms, leaving off the words, ‘So are you, and so is the rest of the goddamned world.’