Terminal

“Stefano is always back from the dead,” I rasped. “Anytime they need the ratings, they figure out a way to bring him back.”

“Hang on a second, babe.”

“Okay.”

I heard her in the background, ringing up a customer. While she was gone, I wished I had the powers of a soap opera character. They cheated death every fall when it was time for the ratings sweeps. Then Michelle came back on the line.

“Sorry about that, babe. Some jackass wanted to pay for lottery tickets with his food stamps. Anyway, I’ll be home soon, if the traffic isn’t snarled too bad.”

“Traffic? What are you talking about? Was there an accident or something?”

“You mean that you haven’t heard? A bunch of guys tried robbing the bank in that little strip mall on the edge of town. It’s all over the news. Apparently, they botched the job and now the cops have it surrounded. There’s hostages and everything. A couple of people are dead already. I guess you didn’t have the TV or radio on, huh?”

“No. No, I hadn’t heard. I must have missed that.”

“Hang on again, okay, sweetie?”

She rang up another customer and came back.

“Anyway, they held up the bank and traffic is screwed up all over town because of the police roadblocks.”

“Wow. How about that . . .”

“Tommy, what’s wrong? Tell me. I know you’re not just sick. I can hear it in your voice. Look—

I am your wife and I want you to be honest with me. That’s what our entire marriage is based on. Trust. You’ve never lied to me before, and I don’t want you to start now.”

And there it was.

I paused, unsure of how to proceed. Then I plunged ahead.

“Michelle”— I took a deep breath—“I’m in the bank.”

There was a moment of shocked silence, then she gasped.

“What?”

“I’m in the bank, Michelle. The one that’s getting robbed.”

“Oh my God! Tommy! Oh, baby, are you okay? Are you hurt? How did you get to a phone?

What were you doing in the bank? That’s not our bank. What’s going on?”

“I-I’m sorry,” I broke down. “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

“Tommy, what are you talking about? Did you try to stop them or something? Did they take you hostage? Are you hurt?”

“No, but John is. John’s hurt really, really bad. He’s dying, Michelle, and it’s all my fault. This whole fucked-up mess is my fault. It’s always my fault, all the time.”

“John is with you? Tommy, I don’t understand any of this. Why is John there? Is he okay? What’s going on?”

“We . . .” I couldn’t finish. I was aware that all of the hostages were staring at me.

“Tommy? Talk to me, baby! Why were you guys at that bank?”

“Michelle,” I sobbed, “I just wanted you to know that I love you and that I’m sorry. Okay? I love you and T. J. and I only did this for you.”

“Tommy, you’re scaring me! What is going on?”

“We were the ones— the ones on TV. We’re the guys that robbed the bank.”

She paused.

“Where’s Sherm?” I heard the suspicion in her voice.

“Sherm’s here too, Michelle. All three of us are. We’re the ones that did it. I lied to you about getting laid off. Jenny was right. They canned us.”

She paused again and then exploded.

“Goddamn it, Tommy, you asshole. That is so not funny. Do you think that’s funny? It’s not. Quit screwing around! You scared the shit out of me, you son of a bitch. If you’re feeling good enough to play phone pranks, then maybe you’re well enough to go to work. What if T. J. had been with me right now? He’d be freaking out. Bastard! I can’t believe you—”

“Michelle . . . Michelle, listen to me. Listen very carefully. I’m not playing here, baby. This isn’t a joke. I’m serious. I’ve never been more serious in my fucking life. John, Sherm, and I decided to rob the bank. I did it for you and T. J. To take care of you after . . . after I’m gone. Michelle, you were right when you said that whatever I had wasn’t getting better. I lied to you about that too, honey. I lied to you about everything and I’m sorry. I’m not just sick. I’ve got—”

The words were stuck in my throat.

“Tommy?” I could hear the shocked fear in her voice and it broke my heart. Cancer. I’ve got cancer. It’s growing at an alarming rate. I’m afraid it’s terminal. Life’s a bitch, then I die. Later my niggaz! Peace out!

But the words would not come. I still couldn’t tell her. Not even then, when I was confessing to everything else. I still wanted to protect her from that most awful knowledge.

“Tommy? Are you still there? Tommy?”