I say to Ani, "I don't know why we didn't meet before, seems like we have a lot of friends in common." She says we did meet in New York City before her first album. I'd met a lot of artists in the mid to late 80s when I lived in New York so, I think, this could be the case.
We sip on herbal ice tea's in tall thin glass's that her female friend has brought in. "Do you think Paul would like one", she asks. "Looks like he's sleeping now, so no", I say noticing that Paul has slumped over on the couch and is taking up most of it. I think its kinda odd but nice that Ani's room has two sofa's, one of them a long rectangle the other one a large L shape. Half the perimeter of the room is lined soft sofa's.
I try to sit Paul up and ask him if he wants something to drink, but he pulls away and plops back down into the softness of the L couch. "Do you want to come see what I'm working on, I've been doing some work with charcoals?" I'm interested, and think about how much I liked Bob Dylan's book of drawings back in the 90s.
"Sure, I'd love to see them, but I don't think it's wise to leave Paul alone..," he stirs a little and tries to sit up as he hears his name. I think to myself 'what was I thinking bringing him out here, he would have been much more comfortable back at the nursing home, but I thought he'd like to see his family. I don't even remember how the hell we made it through the flight and the airport, that must have been so awful that I don't remember it.'
"He might get confused about where he is....," I try to explain. Ani's friend, the doctor who is administering a medical drip to the middle aged man says she can help. "I've got plenty of Haldol here," she pulls out white packets of the stuff. "If you're concerned about him getting out of line this can help." Grasping at something to help me with Paul I agree. She pulls out a fresh packet and I get Paul to stand up. "She's going to give you something that will help you feel better Paul," I say. It turns out the 'pill' is a spray she puts up his nose. It's quick and it's done.
Were walking down the hall now and I'm thinking 'crap, wait a minute, this is the stuff they gave Paul in the hospital during his brain injury and he came unglued one night. The nurses staff had threatened to put him in an emergency Four Lock, which were cuffs to hold his arms and legs down to the bed.'
But the time in the art room looking at Ani's finished and rough sketches is mostly uneventful. With this exception: Ani's doctor friend says to me, "You must know I've been reading your blog about Paul," she looks at me momentarily then busy's herself with straightening the pills and appliances on her nurses cart. "I've taken the liberty to talk to some publishing houses and there is an offer for your book at Harcourt". I look at her dumbfounded, then turn away and wipe away my tears. We head back toward the rectangular sofa room.
As we enter the sofa room I say to the nurse, "You know I'd forgotten that Paul doesn't usually do well with Haldol, but so far so good. Right Paul?" He grunts and then suddenly lunges at me, picking me up like a five pound bar bell. He doesn't throw me like I think, he actually places me down gently on the other side of the couch then rips open my shirt. Ani and her friends scramble around trying to decide what to do. They finally pry me away from Paul and we leave the room with Paul lunging for the closing door.
* * *
It's another day. Same room but our perspective is from above looking down. We see Paul scribbling something on the wall. His mind is working quickly and his hand is a blur as it writes down a series of glyphs. He has a tattered old tome of a book next to him with similar glyphs.
Ani's middle aged male friend comes into the room. He sees what Paul has been writing and his face goes white. "My god man, what are you doing." Paul smiles and points at a repeating line of symbols. "Where did you get....this, there's no way you could understand", says the ashen faced man. Paul looks at him fiercely and slowly sounds out "eee lau loo, eee lau loo...."
"No, no! exclaims the man, "Dear God, You have broken the code!".
"This is a work of fiction, and all names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s dream-time or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual medications or locales, sofa's, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental."