The Anatomy of a Parody Heart

reality

Enzo doesn't get it. He doesn't get why it has to be now - now, fifteen years on: fifteen years too late - that the doctors are making him breathe. He was fine before. He was fine.

So, for what seems like the hundredth time, Gem explains it to him.

(Enzo has decided to forgive Gem. He hasn't apologised to her, but he doesn't think that she really wants an apology. Enzo figures that if she wanted one, she'd ask for it. But then again - not once in his life has Enzo ever heard her ask for anything.

Forever selfless, stupid, caring Gem.)

"Think of it like this," Gem says. She holds her hands out in front of her. "This is one army" - she waves her left hand - "and this is another," she waves her right. "Your body, like an army, is attacking your heart. See?" She moves her hands together. "This is because your body doesn't recognise your heart - it is an artificially-planted mechanism that the doctors put in you fifteen years ago. They thought that that would be safe. But now" - she makes her hands collide - "your body is rejecting your heart. Get it? The heart they put in you was only there to attach the parts of your body - say your lungs, you arteries, veins, etc. - that, otherwise, would've had nowhere else to go. That heart is still in you, but now, with this cannula, the doctors are trying to force your blood back around your body, through your heart, and get your lungs working again." She pauses. "So, basically, they're trying to make your heart pump, so the rest of your body will recognise it as a normal, fully-functioning heart - "

"- and not attack it," Enzo finishes, "right?"

"Right." Gem looks relieved.

"You don't have to talk to him like he's three," Robyn says. He mimics Gem's voice, "'this is one army, and this is another' - eeurgh, Gem, seriously?"

"Well, he's acting like he's three!" Gem says huffily.

Robyn gives Enzo a critical look. "I guess that's true."

Enzo chucks a pillow at him.

Robyn ducks.

"But I still don't get it," Enzo says, "what's the point?"

Robyn rolls his eyes. "The point is to keep you alive, idiot!"

"But it's not, though," Enzo says, "is it?" He takes another pillow. Squashes it between his hands. "It's not keeping me alive. It's just giving me more time. I'm going to die anyway. What's the point?"

Gem has gone very still. "Are you saying," she glares at him, "that you'd rather die now - right now - than in say, three years time - after another three years with your family, with your friends - "

- with Dan -

" - are you saying you'd rather die?"

"Hey," Robyn says, "hey, Gem, cool it - "

"No!" Gem says. Shoots to her feet. "No, I won't 'cool it', Rob! Our brother - our brother is dying, and you're just prepared to sit here - to sit here on your fat arse and wait it out like - like it's all some kind of sick joke! Well, you know what, Robyn? You know what? This isn't a joke! This isn't a joke! This is reality! So you'd better start learning how to goddamn act like it!"

"Gem - " Robyn starts.

"No!" Gem screams. "Just - no!"

Spinning on her heel, she storms out of the room - properly storms, like she did when she was nine and Mum wouldn't - couldn't - buy her the toy that she wanted: stomping her feet and slamming the door and storming. Enzo wishes that she was nine again.

For the first time, he wonders whether this is Gem's way of asking for an apology - whether Gem really does want one, and her silence, her selflessness, is just her way of being...well, of being Gem.

Enzo sighs. Buries his head in his hands.

His chest aches.

Stupid breathing.

Stupid breathing.

This isn't a joke! This isn't a joke! This is reality!

That is why there are doctors, medics, nurses. We are fighting reality - fighting us - every day. Do you see?

Yeah. 

Enzo rubs his eyes, suddenly weary. 

Yeah, doctor. 

I see.