Sometimes, I Hate When You’re So Positive

PEBBLES: Babe? Babe, could you answer that?

Pebbles Hawkins was searching relentlessly through each of the drawers in her bedroom bathroom. She happened to look up, making a mental note that she needed to buy a pack of light bulbs to replace the middle bulb on the vanity.

60 watt she thought. No, change that to 65. She didn’t like the yellow hue the room turned with the former.

Her phone continued to ring on the kitchen table.

PEBBLES: Babe! Please get the phone!

You see, Pebbles was preoccupied at that moment. She was in day four of kicking a long-term cigarette habit. Unfortunately, her timing for going cold turkey was at the most inopportune point in Pebbles life. She had been expecting that incoming call. This was a call of utmost importance.

PEBBLES: I can’t believe there’s not one freakin’ cigarette in this effin’ household.

Pebbles was at her wits end.

The phone continued to broadcast a polyphonic ringtone to the tune of ‘Kill, Kill, Kill’…Pebbles favorite getting-ready-to-go-out song. She contemplated changing it to something, a little more up to date, but 99 cents is pretty steep for a budget such a Pebbles’.

PEBBLES: Thanks a lot, asshole. Where are you anyway?

That asshole she was referring to was her boyfriend, Milo. She could have sworn he was in the vicinity. They had just made love in the shower not thirty minutes ago. The way Pebbles performed, it had to have taken him at least ten to recover. She finally gets to the kitchen table to answer the phone on the 22^nd ring.

PEBBLES: Hello?

VOICE: Hi, this is Sean at Dr. Kim’s office…is Pebbles Hawkins available?

PEBBLES: Speaking. What’s the verdict?

SEAN: We’d actually need to talk about the results in person, Ms. Hawkins.

PEBBLES: Well that can only mean one thing.

SEAN: It does not mean one thing or another, Ms. Hawkins. Colorado state law says that we are not allowed to reveal test results over the telephone. Would you be able to come in tomorrow morning?

PEBBLES: What time were you thinking?

SEAN: 10AM work for you Ms. Hawkins?

PEBBLES: That works.

Pebbles hangs up phone up to take a moment to catch her breath. Sometimes, she got overheated and started to glisten. This was one of those times. Somehow, a piece of paper on the edge of the counter broke her vacant gaze out into the backyard. Pebbles picked it up and smiled. It was in Milo’s cutesy cursive. He always did have nice cursive.

‘Pebs, this was hard. Trust me. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you at your worst, and the sheer notion of leaving you at all tells me I don’t deserve you. I hope things turn out in your favor.’

After taking a moment to read the brief note not once, but nine times, Pebbles quickly turns and staggers into the living room. Looking out of the window confirmed what she had just read. Milo had left.

PEBBLES: Bastard took the car.

Pebbles began to tremble, ever so slightly. She could feel herself overheating again. Just as her knees began to get weak, she found the couch that she and Milo had purchased together, under her, breaking her fall. Her eyes were so heavy all off a sudden, like a huge weight had been added to her already burdened shoulders. She was really starting to like that guy. She slowly drifted off, thinking about how comfortable that couch was. They had made a good choice; much better than the green one. Pebbles couldn’t help but think how nice it was for Milo to at least leave the couch behind. After all, he did pay for 90 percent of it, that and the TV. Pebbles mustered up enough energy to roll over to check. Yup, he took the TV too.

The next time that Pebbles opened her eyes, the sun greeted her sensitive retinas. She had not closed the blinds before dozing off, luckily, as Pebbles had failed to set an alarm for her appointment. In fact, she had seemingly forgotten all about it, that is, until she found Milo’s note on the floor space next to the couch. As she picked it up and began reading it for the tenth time, all of the emotions that she was feeling the previous night began to creep back into her mind. Before she had a chance to reflect on what had occurred, the note triggered her memory of her 10AM appointment.

PEBBLES: Shit, what time is it?

Pebbles’ cell phone did not make it to the charger, so she had to run up to the bedroom her and Milo had shared to check the only clock in the house. It was 9:45AM. Pebbles didn’t have time to brush her teeth, let alone take a shower. She opted for a mouthwash rinse to save some time before booking it out the front door. It was now 9:47AM. Her doctor’s office was about 10 minutes away. Pebbles was confident she could make it, assuming she could find a cabbie that had little respect for traffic laws

No such luck.

Pebbles finally arrived to her doctor’s office at 10:10AM. As she walked into the reception room, the attractive male receptionist, Sean, greeted her.

SEAN: Good morning, Ms. Hawkins. It’s great to see you.

Sean had one of the whitest smiles Pebbles had ever seen. Seriously, it was blinding. It made Pebbles sick.

PEBBLES: Morning. So sorry I’m late, traffic was a mess. Is he ready for me?

SEAN: Don’t you worry about it for another minute Ms. Hawkins. I believe he is. Let me check for you.

Sean got up from his swivel chair and walked into the back, for what seemed to be a rather length chunk of time. Pebbles’ anxiety over the visit may have exaggerated that time just slightly. Pebbles took a seat in the waiting room. There was a sole television perched atop a charming educational advertisement detailing the latest and greatest in allergy medication. On said television was CYN’s daily financial report with anchor Erin Marinovich. Erin’s topic of discussion that day was the initial takeover bid by Zaspa Inc. to purchase controlling stakes in Iota Designs.

ERIN: My sources say that Chairman and CEO Justice Iota is adamant about rejecting this takeover. Unfortunately for Mr. Iota, his untimely divorce forced him to yield just enough ownership to his former wife to lose majority stake. Now, I’ve spoken with Iota’s former wife, as well as five out of the remaining six investors on the board of directors, and they all assure me the Zaspa deal is good and they all want to execute. Assuming the former Ms. Iota and these five investors sell to Zaspa, it would still only be 30% ownership. The real question is if the sixth investor will sell his stake in Iota Designs to give Zaspa the majority. Industry insiders tell me that the sixth investor is none other than billionaire Benjamin Grady. Grady owns approximately 25% of the company, and with his blessing, this deal could be done. Unfortunately, Zaspa and the rest of the world have been unable to locate Mr. Grady. Remember, Zaspa is only offering the sweetheart premium on the shares if they are able to purchase over 51% ownership. This will certainly be interesting to watch. You may be asking yourself why Zaspa would be offering such a premium to the investors, and wonder you should. Since Iota Designs is private, there is not much information that they are required to release. Analysts cannot put their finger on exactly how this American grown company can possibly sell these LCD screens at a competitive price with foreign suppliers. As you know, they are operating completely in America and have to follow federal wage laws. No one is quite sure how this company is operating and taking such good care of their employees, but investors have welcomed it. Zaspa is the number one purchaser of LCD screens in the world, and would love to cut out the unstable Chinese supply and bring an operation in house, especially one that is run as efficiently as Iota Designs. Even still, you have to wonder why they would be so keen on a company that they have no access to the financials. Again, this is certainly interesting to watch, especially since Iota has publically spurned the initial offer.

SEAN: Ms. Hawkins? Dr. Farbman will see you now.

Pebbles took a deep breath, let it out, and rose to her feet. She went through the door to the main facilities, and then to her individual diagnostic room.

SEAN: He will be right in, ok?
She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Dr. Farbman walked over to the container of facial tissues and offered Pebbles the box.

PEBBLES: Ok, thank you.

SEAN: Are you doing ok, Ms. Hawins? Can I get you some water or anything?

PEBBLES: No, thank you. I’ll be fine.

Pebbles was able to force a smile. Sean gave Pebbles a half smile in return and closed the door behind him.

As soon as Pebbles sat down on the examination table, she noticed a difference in the protective paper. On that particular visit, the tissue paper was slightly thicker, and much, much louder than the paper she had grown accustom to over her many visits to that office. They must’ve switched suppliers. It certainly was subpar compared to the last brand, but such is a bad economy. Pebbles continued to squirm around in an attempt to get comfortable as the paper seemed to laugh louder and louder at her. About one minute later, Pebbles gave up on her disruptive sitting and decided to stand. She walked over to another ad/poster showcasing a middle-aged man with what Pebbles assumed to be his son. It turned out the poster was for a cholesterol medication. Before she had too much time to examine how to live a healthy lifestyle, Dr. Farbman knocked on the door. Good thing, too. Pebbles had eaten two fast-food caliber burgers and was feeling some pretty intense eater’s remorse; the poster would have only made her feel worse about her diet.

FARBMAN: Are you ready in there Ms. Hawkins?

PEBBLES: Sure am.

Dr. Farbman entered the examination room. He was a relatively young looking man, probably in his late forties or early fifties. He had recently become a partner in the general practice that Pebbles had been frequenting her entire life. As a child, she saw kind Dr. Shumaker. Unfortunately, Dr. Shumaker had died a few years back, passing the practice down to his son. The younger Shumaker took on additional partners, leaving Pebbles with a physician she was not terribly acquainted with. That didn’t matter to Pebbles. This place was one of the only familiar memories that transcended into her current life. Dr. Farbman took a look at Pebbles chart, pursed his lips slightly, and removed his glasses to allow his fingers clear access to his eyes. He rubbed them rather aggressively as if he hadn’t had slept in days. Once he replaced the glasses to the bridge of his nose, the good doctor took another look at the chart.

FARBMAN: Why don’t you have a seat Ms. Hawkins?

PEBBLES: You can call me Pebbles, doctor.

Pebbles jumped back on the examination table to a scratchy chorus. Dr. Farbman took a seat in the rolling chair that was in the examination room. Farbman looked over the test one more time. He had a small bout of OCD, which caused him to read and reread everything, like his mind wouldn’t believe his eyes.

FARBMAN: All right, Pebbles. We have the results of your Western blot here. I wanted to go over them with you.

Pebbles felt her body immediately tensed up. The sound of the sterile paper beneath her jeans translated her slight body tremble for Dr. Farbman. He placed a comforting hand on Pebbles shoulder. Pebbles didn’t need to wait for Dr. Farbman to spit it out. She could feel it through his gentle, consoling touch. In reality, the doctor only hesitated a moment between informing Pebbles that the test results were in and what the results were, but that single moment became an eternity as Pebbles projected the riskier aspects of her past life on the back of her eyelids.

Pebbles Hawkins had grown up with every advantage in life. Born as the eldest child to George and Mary Jo Hawkins, Pebbles was adored by her parents in her younger years. Mary Jo had put her burgeoning law career with the District Attorney’s office on hold, and her father (who coincidentally also practiced law, albeit as a defense attorney) was always able to make time to be a prominent figure in Pebble’s life. As she came into her adolescent years, her parents gradually had less and less time to spend with Pebbles due to a reinvigorated focus on their career progression, in addition to the births of Pebble’s younger siblings, Clint and Heidi. That is not to say that her parents became negligent in the slightest, but when one minute you are showered with affection, and the next you have to jockey for it, sometimes it can be tough. One could say that Pebbles had trouble adjusting to a universe that she was no longer the center of.

In a move that was inspired by one part rebellion, one part cries for attention, Pebbles decided she had been abandoned by those who once cared about her and decided to leave home to seek a place where she fit in. She was sixteen at the time, and we all vaguely know what kind of perils can present themselves to a troubled youth who believes they have no role in their current environment. Just as in the fairy tales, almost on cue, a strapping young (but illicitly older than Pebbles) lad swooped in to save the day with an invitation for room and board. This gentleman was even generous enough to let her stay in his basement home for no monetary compensation, go figure. Looking back, Pebbles realized that she ultimately paid a price worth significantly more than any amount of scratch would ever be. Pebble’s “savior” kept her constantly reminded that she was indebted to him because of his noble deeds, which led Pebbles to make some concessions she was initially uncomfortable with.

Fast forward five years, and you’d find that Pebbles eventually had the wherewithal to remove herself from a situation that included a perpetual fat lip, multiple black eyes, three bruised ribs (one broken), and a nasty relationship with the needle. It was a shame that it took five years for her to come to her senses. During those five years, Pebbles was extremely careful to not share needles with strangers, but that caution did not apply when it came to sharing with her white knight. Fresh syringes were relatively expensive, and their budget was tight in the first place. She was able to rationalize this risk because she had allowed herself to become comfortable with an unprotected, sexually active relationship with this man. If she was going to catch something, she would have already. Besides, that relationship obviously had everything going for it and it seemed unlikely to Pebbles that it would ever come to an end. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. In this case, the end came in a blaze of glory.

One careless night, Pebbles and her dude were indulging in a highly touted dose from a good source. Per the usual, both of Pebbles and this insignificant other were passed out by 11PM, but this particular evening, Pebbles awoke around 3:30AM with an intense thirst. She rolled off the mattress they were sleeping on and found her way to the miniature refrigerator through the darkness. Pebbles was pretty sure that she had half a diet cola left over from the takeout they ordered three or four days ago, but was quickly corrected by the sight of an empty ice unit. Following this discovery, in frustration she shut the fridge door harder than usual, causing her boy to wake up. She went back over to the mattress and curled up with her head on his chest to try and coax a few dollars from him so she could run to the corner store for a beverage. After a brief, half sleepy resistance, he caved and looked in his wallet and found a ten dollar bill. In a happy coincidence, he also found his pack of cigarettes nestled conveniently by the bed. To his dismay when he popped the top and took a peek inside, there was only one left. Like muscle memory, he placed the lone cigarette between his lips and reached into his pocket for a lighter. Nothing. Pebbles actually had it in her pocket, so she proceeded to retrieve it and lit his cigarette for him. After he was all squared away, Pebbles started out the door. His last words to her were ‘use that change to get me another pack of Red’s’ as he rolled to his side to ash in a blue solo cup that was next to the bed. Pebbles nodded in compliance and started on her way.

That was the last time that Pebbles saw him alive. As the story goes, once Pebbles had left for the corner store, he had quickly fallen back asleep with the lit cigarette still in hand. As you can probably assume, this caused a fire that claimed not only the life of such an outstanding role model, but the lives of his aging parents who lived in the superterranean portion of the home. The smoke inhalation that claimed the lives of the parents is the real tragedy here. Pebbles was obviously affected by what happened that night, but it did not stop her from rinsing that experience off and repeating with an even thicker lather the next time. It would be quite a while before Pebbles straightened her life out with just a little outside encouragement. Unfortunately for her, not everything can be rinsed away in a cleansing fire.

FARBMAN: I sincerely regret to inform you, but the blot came back positive, confirming your initial ELISA results.

PEBBLES: Positive?

FARBMAN: Yes, positive. Your ELISA test was right on the threshold, so I was hesitant to make the call one way or another, but the blot confirms it. What this means is that you are, in fact HIV positive.

At that moment a strange thing happened. Pebbles had anticipated the results of this test and had spent much time emotionally prepared herself for each outcome. Mulling the possibility of living with such a condition had taken its toll not only on Pebbles, but also her (former) boyfriend, Milo. Apparently, the thought of an HIV positive girlfriend was too much for the latter to handle. In some scenarios, Pebbles would breakdown and cry, cursing the cruel world for everything that it had put her through. How could anyone love her now? She would never be a mother. In others, Pebbles would say ‘fuck it’ and spend the rest of her days alone, blaming herself, agonizing over the paths that lead her to such a bleak outlook, eventually ending her own life at the bottom of a pit of despair. Either scenario, Pebbles had always portrayed herself as a helpless victim, but at that moment, when it all became official; Pebbles didn’t feel like a victim. She felt as though a finish line was placed within eyeshot. She knew how far she had to go, and how much time she had left to finish. She felt motivated like none other, ready to give her mind, body, soul, blood, sweat, and tears for a cause. In all reality, Pebbles could have been hit by a bus on the way out of the office, but from that point on, she wouldn’t waste what time she had left. In fact, it made her physically sick when she squandered her precious remaining seconds.

FARBMAN: From your silence, I can tell you’re pretty shaken. I just want you to know, Pebbles, this isn’t a death sentence any longer. It’s not the 80’s anymore. We know what we are up against, and there are viable treatments. There are support groups, and..and consoling we can set you up with so you can cope with any emotions you may have. The important thing to do now is to not give up, to not see this as something you can’t fight.

Dr. Farbman leaned over and put his hand on Pebbles’ shoulder.

FARBMAN: You should also notify any sexual partners you’ve had so they too can get tested.

Pebbles was now having trouble fighting back her tears: She shirked the good doctor’s hand off of her shoulder and straightened her posture.

PEBBLES: I understand Dr. Farbman. I can’t say I’m surprised with the results.

FARBMAN: Let’s have you get back in here in two weeks. Would you do that for me? I want to make sure you’ve been set up with some support.

PEBBLES: That won’t be a problem, Doctor.

Dr. Farbman had done this dozens of times, yet it made him increasingly uncomfortable.  Maybe he could get his nurse to start doing these.

FARBMAN: I know it seems pretty grim right now, but trust me when I say you can still lead a full and happy life. Don’t let this cast an unbearable shadow over your life. We just need to get you up to speed on the next steps. Will you see Sean out there and get him to make you an appointment? Also, he’ll recommend you to a specialist.

PEBBLES: Thank you, Doctor.

FARBMAN: I have to go now, but please, please don’t hesitate to call here for anything, anytime.

Dr. Farbman opened the room door and motioned as if Pebbles should get going. Her knees were not being as brave as the rest of her, so Dr. Farbman was waiting for a few more minutes while they caught up.

Once Pebbles had gone through the motions of signing up for a counseling session to devise an “attack plan”, and the aimless banter with the cab driver, Pebbles finally arrived home. She started to fumble with her keys, but when she did manage to find the right one, she froze as she inserted it into the lock. That’s the first time the news really hit her. When it hit her, it hit hard. It hit so hard, she broke the key off in the front door. Should that have happened 36 hours ago, Pebbles might have flipped shit. But now, it seemed so trivial. Pebbles must’ve appeared to be a cat-burglarizing zombie to her neighbors as she trudged past their kitchen window, around the house to the back yard. She continued walking until she got in range and could let her body go limp. Sometimes, a hammock can make anything feel better.




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