Categories > Movies > Breakfast Club > Of Big Shots and Bohemians
All Andy could do was look out the window at the City passing away slowly behind the car as it drove deeper into Pennsylvania. It was a cold morning in early April 2004. It was exactly 3 years ago today that it happened. The car was quiet for several different reasons. Andy turned behind him to look at his two children sleeping in the back. Little Aaron with a small picture book in his lap, leaning his head against the seat-belt strap, and Ophelia in her car seat, a small plush elephant hanging from her tiny hand. It had been a bit of a drive, but seeming as today was the third anniversary, he and his wife were compelled to pay their respects. Especially his wife, who was currently at the wheel. Andy looked over at Allison, who was wearing all black for the first time in ages. Her eyes were stone cold, concentrating on the road. She controlled the wheel with one hand, her other hand rested on her knee. Andy sighed and slipped his hand over hers, then curled his fingers in between her fingers. Allison moaned to let Andy know she was still alert. Andy's heart ached for her. This was always a difficult date for Allison to endure.
"We'll be there in a few minutes," she informed. Little Aaron stirred. Ophelia remained asleep.
"Will Helene be there, you think?" asked Andy.
"I really wouldn't know, dear," replied Allison.
Allison kept looking for the exit. The area had gone from City to suburbia to country. It was quite a change of scenery to go from millennial Manhattan to rural Pennsylvania. Andy leaned back in his seat and looked again at his wife. Allison had gained a lot of body back that she'd lost before. She wasn't fat, but she was, well, motherly. She had two instances of childbearing to thank for that. Allison loosened her hand from Andy's and began turning the wheel. The station wagon turned off the main country road and onto a muddy side road. The car made its way up a hill and turned into a small public cemetery, fenced in by a black wrought-iron gate. There was no church, but along with 100 or so tombstones of various shapes and sizes, there were 10 or so crypts for families.
Allison parked the car outside the gate. She got out and helped her son out of the car. Meanwhile, Andy unbuckled his daughter from her car seat and carried her in his arms. Allison held her son's hand; in her other hand was a small bouquet of lilies. Andy opened the gate and the family walked inside. Allison and Little Aaron were slightly ahead. Allison knew exactly where her destination was. She turned left at the Miller crypt and passed the huge tombstone with the Virgin Mary on top, and there it was. Andy followed right behind. They stared at the small yet beautifully carved stone, settled in the grass. Allison then leaned down in front of it and laid the lilies directly under the inscription:
Aaron Roger Baranowski
Born: January 31, 1968
Died: April 3, 2001
Loving Friend, Caring Man
He Shall Be Missed Greatly
Allison wept a little. Andy bent down by her side (Ophelia still in arm) and muttered a prayer to himself for Aaron. Three years ago to the day Aaron died, and Allison could remember exactly how the day went. Andy stayed at home with Little Aaron (Allison was slightly pregnant with Ophelia at that point) at home. Allison and Helene were at Aaron's bedside in the hospital. He was barely conscious, dying of meningitis as a result of AIDS. Allison held him as he suffered, and Helene sat on the edge of the bed. The three bohemians were in the same room for the last time that day. Aaron died around 4 that afternoon. Allison didn't go home that night. Instead, she and Helene, after doing a bit of paperwork and crying for awhile in the park, went back to SoHo. By that time, the old building in which they resided had been condemned to destruction, and all was abandoned. Allison and Helene got past the boarded windows and locked doors and somehow made it back into their old loft apartment. They brought some incense and cried in each other's arms all night long, lying in the vacant apartments, mourning their lost roommate, friend, and mediator. They remarked on how times had changed. What was once the center of artistic life in New York City was now a slum. Allison had observed that the artists and beatniks had shifted to the East Village. Allison and Helene hadn't bothered to move.
Allison had moved out of the loft when she married Andy in June 1996. A few months later, Helene and Aaron were given warning that the building was condemned and they had to move out. Andy bought them their own apartment in his own building (he ended up moving with Allison back into the Hamilton). Helene eventually moved out and headed out to Connecticut on her own to start her job at a record company. Aaron stayed there until he got sick and had to be moved to a hospital.
Andy put his free arm around Allison, who's tears poured silently out of her eye. She suddenly heard footsteps from behind her.
"Mommy!" yelped Little Aaron. Allison turned around. She smiled vaguely at the lady behind her, a bouquet of her own in her hand. Her stomach was bulging out of proportion to the rest of her body. Allison and Andy stood up.
"Helene? Look at you!" Allison remarked.
"You're pregnant!" Andy finished.
"I had no idea you met someone!" said Allison. Helene shook her head.
"I didn't," she said. "Artificial insemination." The trace of French left in Helene's accent was gone. Her voice was pure-blooded American. "I was getting kind of lonely."
Andy and Allison nodded. Helene sighed and looked at the tombstone. "It's a girl, due in three months," she said. "I wish it were a boy. I would've named him Aaron." She said. Allison looked at her own son, named Aaron while her own Aaron was still alive. She smiled at him, and he smiled up at her.
"Instead, I'm naming her Alexandra. Ally for short," said Helene. Allison blushed. The atmosphere went silent again as Helene (carefully) sank to her knees at the tombstone and put her bouquet down. A quiet, silent minute went by as Andy, Allison, and Helene all paid their respects. Andy broke the silence after a few long minutes.
"So, Helene, how goes life in Connecticut?" he asked.
Helene rolled her eyes. "Funny you should mention that. I ran into Vanessa yesterday!"
"Oh?" asked Allison interested. Indeed, what did become of her old nemesis?
"She's not a model anymore. Vanessa lost her job because her agency said she looked too much like an anorexic. Curvy is apparently the 'in' now, so Vanessa has a minimum-wage job in a strip joint!"
"Imagine that!" said Andy, putting Ophelia on the ground and wrapping his arms around Allison.
"So Allison, Andy, plan on having any more pups?" asked Helene. Andy shook his head.
"Two is MORE than enough!"
"Yeah. We've pretty much reached or baby quota for this lifetime!" added Allison. Helene nodded, understandingly. She looked at the tombstone again.
"I'm going to make Aaron Alexandra's legal godfather posthumously once she's born," said Helene.
Allison grinned. "I think he'd like that," she said. Andy looked at Ophelia, who was embracing the tombstone tightly. He snickered and went to pick her up.
"Come on, Mouse!" he said to his daughter. "You're going to have a nap when we get home," he said.
"No nap!" yelled Ophelia. "I wanna rock!" she said, pointing to Aaron's tombstone. Everyone laughed.
"Even six feet under he's got a thing for kids!" said Helene. Everyone laughed. Ophelia buried her head in her daddy's neck. Another minute of silence ensued. "I think he'd be happy to see where we are now," Helene remarked. Andy nodded. Allison sighed.
"I'm living every day for him," said Allison.
"We all are, I think," said Andy. Helene nodded in agreement.
"Helene, do you want to come over for supper?" asked Allison. Helene stayed silent a moment, then nodded.
"Dinner would be great!" said Helene, rubbing her enlarged gut. The trio smiled at each other, looked at the stone one more time, and left the burial grounds together towards their finally satisfying lives.
"We'll be there in a few minutes," she informed. Little Aaron stirred. Ophelia remained asleep.
"Will Helene be there, you think?" asked Andy.
"I really wouldn't know, dear," replied Allison.
Allison kept looking for the exit. The area had gone from City to suburbia to country. It was quite a change of scenery to go from millennial Manhattan to rural Pennsylvania. Andy leaned back in his seat and looked again at his wife. Allison had gained a lot of body back that she'd lost before. She wasn't fat, but she was, well, motherly. She had two instances of childbearing to thank for that. Allison loosened her hand from Andy's and began turning the wheel. The station wagon turned off the main country road and onto a muddy side road. The car made its way up a hill and turned into a small public cemetery, fenced in by a black wrought-iron gate. There was no church, but along with 100 or so tombstones of various shapes and sizes, there were 10 or so crypts for families.
Allison parked the car outside the gate. She got out and helped her son out of the car. Meanwhile, Andy unbuckled his daughter from her car seat and carried her in his arms. Allison held her son's hand; in her other hand was a small bouquet of lilies. Andy opened the gate and the family walked inside. Allison and Little Aaron were slightly ahead. Allison knew exactly where her destination was. She turned left at the Miller crypt and passed the huge tombstone with the Virgin Mary on top, and there it was. Andy followed right behind. They stared at the small yet beautifully carved stone, settled in the grass. Allison then leaned down in front of it and laid the lilies directly under the inscription:
Aaron Roger Baranowski
Born: January 31, 1968
Died: April 3, 2001
Loving Friend, Caring Man
He Shall Be Missed Greatly
Allison wept a little. Andy bent down by her side (Ophelia still in arm) and muttered a prayer to himself for Aaron. Three years ago to the day Aaron died, and Allison could remember exactly how the day went. Andy stayed at home with Little Aaron (Allison was slightly pregnant with Ophelia at that point) at home. Allison and Helene were at Aaron's bedside in the hospital. He was barely conscious, dying of meningitis as a result of AIDS. Allison held him as he suffered, and Helene sat on the edge of the bed. The three bohemians were in the same room for the last time that day. Aaron died around 4 that afternoon. Allison didn't go home that night. Instead, she and Helene, after doing a bit of paperwork and crying for awhile in the park, went back to SoHo. By that time, the old building in which they resided had been condemned to destruction, and all was abandoned. Allison and Helene got past the boarded windows and locked doors and somehow made it back into their old loft apartment. They brought some incense and cried in each other's arms all night long, lying in the vacant apartments, mourning their lost roommate, friend, and mediator. They remarked on how times had changed. What was once the center of artistic life in New York City was now a slum. Allison had observed that the artists and beatniks had shifted to the East Village. Allison and Helene hadn't bothered to move.
Allison had moved out of the loft when she married Andy in June 1996. A few months later, Helene and Aaron were given warning that the building was condemned and they had to move out. Andy bought them their own apartment in his own building (he ended up moving with Allison back into the Hamilton). Helene eventually moved out and headed out to Connecticut on her own to start her job at a record company. Aaron stayed there until he got sick and had to be moved to a hospital.
Andy put his free arm around Allison, who's tears poured silently out of her eye. She suddenly heard footsteps from behind her.
"Mommy!" yelped Little Aaron. Allison turned around. She smiled vaguely at the lady behind her, a bouquet of her own in her hand. Her stomach was bulging out of proportion to the rest of her body. Allison and Andy stood up.
"Helene? Look at you!" Allison remarked.
"You're pregnant!" Andy finished.
"I had no idea you met someone!" said Allison. Helene shook her head.
"I didn't," she said. "Artificial insemination." The trace of French left in Helene's accent was gone. Her voice was pure-blooded American. "I was getting kind of lonely."
Andy and Allison nodded. Helene sighed and looked at the tombstone. "It's a girl, due in three months," she said. "I wish it were a boy. I would've named him Aaron." She said. Allison looked at her own son, named Aaron while her own Aaron was still alive. She smiled at him, and he smiled up at her.
"Instead, I'm naming her Alexandra. Ally for short," said Helene. Allison blushed. The atmosphere went silent again as Helene (carefully) sank to her knees at the tombstone and put her bouquet down. A quiet, silent minute went by as Andy, Allison, and Helene all paid their respects. Andy broke the silence after a few long minutes.
"So, Helene, how goes life in Connecticut?" he asked.
Helene rolled her eyes. "Funny you should mention that. I ran into Vanessa yesterday!"
"Oh?" asked Allison interested. Indeed, what did become of her old nemesis?
"She's not a model anymore. Vanessa lost her job because her agency said she looked too much like an anorexic. Curvy is apparently the 'in' now, so Vanessa has a minimum-wage job in a strip joint!"
"Imagine that!" said Andy, putting Ophelia on the ground and wrapping his arms around Allison.
"So Allison, Andy, plan on having any more pups?" asked Helene. Andy shook his head.
"Two is MORE than enough!"
"Yeah. We've pretty much reached or baby quota for this lifetime!" added Allison. Helene nodded, understandingly. She looked at the tombstone again.
"I'm going to make Aaron Alexandra's legal godfather posthumously once she's born," said Helene.
Allison grinned. "I think he'd like that," she said. Andy looked at Ophelia, who was embracing the tombstone tightly. He snickered and went to pick her up.
"Come on, Mouse!" he said to his daughter. "You're going to have a nap when we get home," he said.
"No nap!" yelled Ophelia. "I wanna rock!" she said, pointing to Aaron's tombstone. Everyone laughed.
"Even six feet under he's got a thing for kids!" said Helene. Everyone laughed. Ophelia buried her head in her daddy's neck. Another minute of silence ensued. "I think he'd be happy to see where we are now," Helene remarked. Andy nodded. Allison sighed.
"I'm living every day for him," said Allison.
"We all are, I think," said Andy. Helene nodded in agreement.
"Helene, do you want to come over for supper?" asked Allison. Helene stayed silent a moment, then nodded.
"Dinner would be great!" said Helene, rubbing her enlarged gut. The trio smiled at each other, looked at the stone one more time, and left the burial grounds together towards their finally satisfying lives.
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