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Over the years, Lawrence had become numb to the cacophony of sounds that plagued the hospital day in and day out. The beeps of heart monitors, the waiting room music, the running of trauma surgeons and horrified screams of loved ones all faded into the background of daily life. None of it affected him anymore. Lawrence had figured that in order to be a good doctor, he had to distance himself from his work and from the tragedy that went on around him. After all, if one cared about every horrible event that occurred in a hospital, they’d very easily go mad.
Lawrence had seen his fair share of tears, of lovers being separated by illness, young men insisting that there had to be a mistake, of mothers holding their children close as they realized that their days were numbered. Cancer was not something pretty and certainly not something that people wanted to see every single day, but Lawrence had wanted to help people.
From a young age, Lawrence had been determined to be a doctor. It was his answer whenever a teacher asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. It was his favorite pretend game. He would pretend to treat his toys in his room telling them all about the sickness that they had and how Lawrence would make them better. He hadn’t known at the time that he would come face to face with those horrible diseases that stole away people’s lives and left their loved ones mourning. Little Larry had no idea of the horrors that awaited him.
He had been so blinded by the idealised version of doctors that society had painted around him that Lawrence had run right after that dream without a second thought. He sought out that feeling of respect amongst not only his peers but by society. He wanted to become someone that others saw as an example, as the greatest one of them all.
Lawrence’s first taste of greatness came in the form of an acceptance letter that would be sending him to college. His dreams of becoming a doctor were really about to happen. For the next couple of years, Lawrence put his nose to the grindstone, working his ass off into the late hours, just so he could move closer to his dream. It was so close, just barely out of his reach.
Those days felt so far away now as Lawrence walked the halls of the hospital. He had once thought that he never would see the inside of a hospital like this, helping those in need, but he had made it and Lawrence had gotten here through his own determination and hardwork. No one else had helped him get here. Sure, his parents helped with money and life as parents did, but Lawrence did all the work. Lawrence chose what to make of his life and pursued it. He was the master of his own life.
So why now did it feel wrong? Why did Lawrence feel as if something wasn’t quite right still? He had achieved his dream and was sitting rather comfortably financially. There was hardly anything for him to worry about now, but Lawrence felt empty. Was this really his purpose in life? Had he made a mistake somewhere along the way? It was the same thing day in and day out. The same sounds. The same events. The same types of people coming in and out of his office.
It was the smell of cigarette smoke that caught his attention.
Lawrence was drawn out his thoughts and followed the smell down the hall to find a man who appeared to be in his twenties sitting in one of the chairs outside a hospital room. There was nothing about him that was abnormal, but something about the sight struck Lawrence. He was dressed in blue jeans with holes in the knees, a white tee shirt with a green plaid flannel over it, and black converse. It was his face, however, that kept Lawrence’s attention. His green eyes were reddened and puffy from crying and Lawrence could still see the tear marks on his cheeks. He held his cigarette tightly in his teeth, blowing the smoke out through his teeth without removing the cigarette.
He did not make a sound as he sat there, staring off into the nothingness of his thoughts. There was something about him that was hauntingly beautiful that Lawrence couldn't describe. Looking at this young man was almost like looking at some kind of piece of art showing the grief of society. He drew Lawrence in and the pull was too much to resist. He had to know more about him.
“Excuse me,” Lawrence said after clearing his throat. The young man looked up at him, narrowing his eyes as if already expecting a fight.
“No, I will not put it out and you can throw me out if you fuckin’ want to.”
“Pardon me, but that’s not what I was going to say. I wanted to ask your name.”
“Adam.”
“Are you alright, Adam?”
“Do I fucking look alright to you?” He snapped. “Why do you even fucking care?”
“Because you’re alone in the hallway and you look like you’ve been crying. Is there someone you’re here to see?”
Adam was quiet for a moment, looking down at his sneakers. He chewed on the cigarette, rolling it in his teeth before removing it.
“My mother. She has cancer.”
Lawrence had seen this scene so many times. Adam was no different than any other loved one who came to visit. He was no different than all the other people who had to watch their family wither away before them until they were but a husk of the person they used to be. Sometimes there were miracles. Sometimes it could be stopped, but who knew how far gone Adam’s mother was?
“May I buy you a coffee?” Lawrence asked.
“What?”
“May I buy you a coffee?” Lawrence repeated. “I’d like to try to help you.”
Adam hesitated for a moment before he got up from his seat and followed Lawrence to the cafe. This began a regular occurrence every other day when Adam would come to visit. He would visit his mother before he and Lawrence would get coffee in the cafe and talk. Lawrence began learning more about Adam’s background and the more he learned, the more he wanted to delve deeper into Adam’s story.
Adam came from a broken family. His father was strict on him and his brother and had become emotionally abusive towards them once their mother ended up in the hospital. His father was especially hard on Adam since Adam was a transgender man. Adam was also a photographer who had dropped out of college and now worked freelance wherever he could.
“So, Larry,” Adam said sipping on his iced coffee. “Why did you really become interested in me? I mean, you aren’t my mom’s doctor and you see people like me all the time.”
“Truthfully, Adam, I don’t know,” Lawrence said. “You’re right about that. I do see people like you all the time and I’ve become quite numb to it all. I don’t know why seeing you moved me so much. I just had a feeling I needed to talk to you.”
Adam sipped at his coffee again. “Maybe it’s destiny.”
“You think us meeting is destiny?”
“Why not?” Adam said with a shrug. “I mean, the world is pretty fucked up as is. You don’t think there’s at least a little good somewhere in it?”
“You think your mom getting cancer is destiny for us to meet?”
Adam sighed. “Fuck, no Larry that’s not what I mean. What I mean is, my mom getting cancer is the fucking worst. I wish it were me and not her. It’s fucked up that she had to get it. Every fucking day I curse God for what happened, but maybe us meeting is some kind of sick apology? I don’t know. I don’t even believe in God, but my mom thinks us meeting is some kind of good thing. I guess I’m just trying to trick myself.”
“You told your mom?”
“I tell her everything,” Adam said. “I don’t know when I’m going to lose her, Larry. What if your mom was going to die tomorrow, huh? What if it were you?”
Lawrence looked down at his coffee unable to answer. What would he do if he were going to die tomorrow? What did he really have to show for his life? Lawrence couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like for Adam. By societal standards, Adam was a failure. He had accomplished nothing and was the dirt under society’s shoes. He had so little and Adam was desperately clinging to what was left of his family, knowing he was about to lose it for good. It was as if Adam’s life was also on a timer.
“Why do you talk to me, Lawrence?” Adam asked. “You can’t help me. You can’t help her. Okay, so you had an urge to talk to me the first time, but why keep doing it? Do you think talking to me will make you feel better about your job? You think you can help me by talking to me? Giving me a friend?”
“Adam, I-”
“You’re betting on losing dogs, Lawrence.”
“Maybe I want to.”
Lawrence pushed his coffee cup aside and leaned on the table more. “Maybe I’m tired of seeing people hurting as their family withers away in front of them. Maybe I am betting on losing dogs, but at least someone is cheering them on. At least someone is there so they aren’t completely abandoned when everyone tells them to give up. Maybe you are a losing dog, Adam, but can’t losers win every now and again?”
Adam chuckled. “I guess you’re right. I’m just surprised to hear a doctor saying that.”
“And why is that?”
“Because doctors don’t give a shit about people.”
“But we’re supposed to.”
Adam leaned back in his chair and took another drink. “You’re supposed to, but if you can’t pay the bill, you just have to die in the street like all the other rats.”
“The world is a fucked up place, Adam. You and I know that better than anyone else. The least we can do is try to fix it however we can,” Lawrence said. “And I’d like to try to at least bring a little light into your life.”
“Are you asking me out on date?” Adam asked.
“Call it whatever you like, but I call it going for drinks. Real drinks, not shitty hospital coffee,” Lawrence said. “Maybe you’re right about destiny. Maybe we were supposed to meet each other somehow. Maybe we should just try and enjoy the little moment of goodness we found before the world fucks it all up.”
Adam moved closer, leaning on the table so he was mere inches away from Lawrence’s face. He smiled as he locked eyes with the doctor. Lawrence could feel his face beginning to heat up as he looked into those beautiful green eyes. Something about all this felt right. The emptiness inside of Lawrence was filling up the longer he was around Adam. Maybe this really was Lawrence’s destiny.
“I’d like that, Larry,” Adam said. “It’s a date.”