Mellow Night (365 hits)
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Submitted by TimetoDance (View user info) at 2006-12-01 02:31:07 EST
I saw his feet and immediately I knew.
"How ya doin' dad?" I asked. He started coughing violently. I shifted my weight from my left foot to my right foot and stared at the lines criss-crossing in my palms. His answer was unintelligible and then he tried to laugh but I knew that he had just said that he was just fine, thank you. I raised my head and looked straight past him, my eyes focusing on the navy pillow behind him. "I have to go to work now. If you need anything, just give me a call"
With that he closed his eyes and simply nodded. I quickly left the room.
It was an uneventful night of work really. I patrolled around downtown and everything seemed dead. A few drifters and homeless people here and a few there. There were no calls on the radio.
Everything was as it should be.
Then I saw him there, just as he always is, down in an alley. My gut felt off, but I decided to cruise over anyways. As I drove up with red and blue lights he gently exhaled billowing clouds of cigarette smoke through his nostrils into the cold night sky. Instead of his usual jeans and white t-shirt he wore a dark blue suit and on his left wrist was a Rolex. His thick brown hair was unkempt and matted, and he was sweating profusely. His entire body shook as he raised his fingers to his cracked lips for another drag from his cigarette. I didn't know what to think. He was staring ahead not saying anything. Getting out of my cruiser I quickly shined my light down to the end of the alley. Finding nothing I returned my focus to the sitting man.
"How's it going Gene? It's a bit late to be out and about, don't you think?"
He didn't respond.
I always find that the blue and red flashing lights give people's faces eerie expressions. As they strobe off of Gene's face it gave way to two very different but not mutually exclusive state of minds. As the blue flashed, it revealed a look of sadness while red described a look of indescribable anger. I had never seen him like this before and I didn't even know Gene could be flustered.
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Practically every night for the past year Gene was downtown late by himself, all alone at this hour. For the life of me, I could not figure out what Gene was doing every night. It's strange, I know, but I have run into some weird people on the job. Gene turned out to be one of them, in a good way though Gene always seems to be alright. Gene is the type of guy I would hang out with in bar and whenever I saw him he was always in good spirits.
The first time I met him I immediately liked him. It was at one in the morning. He was walking along an alley just like this one. He had on a pair of blue jeans with a plain white shirt. I drove over to him in my cruiser to see what he was doing out this late. The second I stepped out of my car he smiled goofily that exposed his snaggle tooth and offered me a smoke. Gene was a goof at times and when I first met him, it was no exception.
When I walked up to him that first time to see what he was doing he immediately offered me a smoke and a smile. I had had a rough night so I accepted the cigarette. I know I am not allowed to while I'm working, but every now and then you have to bend the rules. Sometimes you have to break them. Anyways as I went to grab the cigarette he immediately pulled it away and started laughing. He shouted "Gotcha!" Apparently, that is supposed to be hilarious. I grabbed the cigarette on the second time around and we got to talking. I never did find out what he was doing downtown at this time of night but I found out he was an investment banker, which didn't make sense considering the circumstances I met him in, but I went along with it. Instead of finding out what the hell he was doing, he started asking me the questions and finding out about me. One of the very first things he asked me about was my family. My family.
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It is a funny thing though, waiting for someone to die. You feel guilty that you are so selfish. I don't think I can understand all the feelings that I have gone through when all I wish for is for them to die and stop being such a burden on me. They probably don't even enjoy it either.
I remember seeing my grandfather two days before he passed away from colon cancer. The thing that struck me the most was his swollen ankles. His puffy feet were discolored and pale and you couldn't tell where the leg ended and the foot began. I was thirteen years old and this was my first contact with death. I was so terrified that I could barely look at my grandfather. I am not allowed to be afraid now.
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Eight months ago I got the call from my dad. His voice shook and cracked worse than a tarp in a hurricane as he told me about how he just finished reading Sun Tzu's The Art of War. His voice then cleared up and he told me, "I went to the hospital and saw a doctor. He was a very nice asian guy. Ya know I think that those doctors are getting younger than ever and I don't know how with all that schooling they have to go through." He dryly laughed with that weird sense of humor that never seemed to have rubbed off onto me.
I stood up and pressed the receiver into my ear like it was headphones, "Dad, what are you trying to say?"
"He told me everything so straight forward and I'm damn glad. None of that beating around the bush crap, thank god. Son, whenever there is big news, don't shirk around it and just be a man about it."
"Jesus Christ dad, what is it?"
"Colon Cancer"
And there it was. I almost dropped the receiver. First grandpa, and now dad. Immediately after hanging up the phone I went to my liquor cabinet and pulled out my favorite, Jack Daniels and started sipping. After a couple of hours and a half a bottle my thoughts started to freak me out. Holy shit. My dad is going to die. What the hell am I going to do?
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My dad had climbed mountains and went skydiving. He was an exceptional skier and biker. When mom passed away he took it in stride and gained many hobbies and traveled. He loved the world. He went to India , Belize , Bahrain , and Oman and all the while never forgot me. When I was young I used to hate our casual four hour hikes. They were too long and I could never appreciate the beauty of nature of my surroundings. I remember one trip in particular where my father set out to climb Mount Shasta with me. I, of course, didn't want any of that. Honestly though, what ten year old boy wants to climb a 14,000 foot peak? Certainly not me. Ever since I heard that we were going to go to Shasta I let him know that I hated the idea.
On the morning we left, my dad ripped me out of bed and led me into the car. The entire car ride I sat with my face scrunched and my fists in a ball. I looked out the window with my back to my dad until every so often I would turn around and bore my eyes into my dad's head and then turn back away staring out the window toward the endless pine trees that lined the two lane highway.
With about an hour left before we arrived I repeated to him, "I hate these hikes. I hate these hikes. I hate these hikes. They are soooooo boooooooring. We just walk for four hours and don't do anything. Ohhh a lake. Big deal. My feet always hurt at the end of them and I am always hungry." He responded we a grin, "It won't take that long and we are bring lunches and plenty of water. Stop whining"
"Whatever, why is it so important to climb a stupid mountain anyway?"
His answer was simply, "Because I have to," so when I heard this I started yelling. I had outgrown tantrums by then by about seven years, but I was bringing them back.
Seeing Gene's oscillating expressions in the blue and red lights snapped me back. Looking at Gene's face, I shined my light into his eyes and saw that his pupils were okay and while everything seemed so wrong, I didn't radio for an ambulance. Instead I tried a different approach. I asked him if everything was alright.
"It's been one year now since the accident," Gene quietly stated.
"What?"
"My wife"
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Gene mentioned his wife often. Whenever I was on patrol and stopped by he would always have crazy stories about him and his wife Kaeli. One story he told was about the time they went to see Radiohead and went backstage. Gene met Tom Yorke and the guys and was hanging out with the guys backstage before the concert. Gene got up to go to the bathroom and left his backstage pass on the couch on his way back he was stopped by a security guard. They argued for a couple of minutes and the security guard was about to throw them out when Kaeli came in. She saw what was happening and got all fired up the way Gene tells me she does and landed a direct hit right on the balls with the heel of her stiletto shoes. It makes me hurt just thinking about it. The end result was that they both got thrown out because apparently security guards don't like being assaulted. Gene and Kaeli didn't even get to see the show. Gene tells me many stories like this and I still can't tell if all of them or any of them are true or not but whenever Gene tells a story, it definitely makes for good company.
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"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
He started to spill everything, "I had just gotten off work and I went to pick Kaeli up off Pocket from her firm. We had planned to go out to the Sacramento Theater Company's production of Cats." He continued on, "On the way over we went through a light and we were hit broadside by a drunk driver. I was knocked unconscious immediately and later woke up in the hospital. I didn't even have a scratch. All I had was a big bump on my head. The doctors told me Kaeli died instantly. They say the woman who hit us got out of her car and started walking away. Some witnesses followed her until police arrived. They say she will get 15 years. She died and I all I got was a huge fucking bump that disappeared one day later" With his a trembling voice he asked, "Is this fair?"
"I don't know if anything is fair."
With that he started to shake uncontrollably. I went back to my cruiser and got a blanket and wrapped it around him. It would still be a couple more minutes before an ambulance would arrive.
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Earlier that day before I went to work I had seen my dad's feet. They were swollen and a pale sickly yellow. My father could barely talk. I knew it would be soon. I live alone and I don't have much money so I take care of him. It just drains you though, doing the shit I do out on the street, dealing with shit people and going home to dad at night. I just want to get through this and move on. I love my father but it is too much for me right now. I want him dead because I am too damn selfish to deal with him. I just want him dead.
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Gene continued staring off into space and started to talk, "Fuck it man I can't get over it. I just can not get over her. I am in love with a dead woman and that's the truth. We wanted to do everything together till death do us part. We wanted to see the world and experience life man. We were on our way! We were literally on the way to see Catz and then drive up to Oregon this weekend. Kaeli wanted to do it. You want to know the reason why? Why not woulda been her answer. You know my biggest fears were? They were the fear of losing Kaeli and the fear of being boring, cause God knows I'd rather die and rot in Hell than be boring. I mean, shiiiiiit. At least it would be interesting there."
With that he smiled for a second then continued, "Kaeli was like that too man and she died too young. I guess we all die too young if you think about it."
Gene then lifted his head and looked at me directly in the eye and said the most unexpected thing I have ever heard in my life, "You do know that Kaeli and I wanted to be like your father right?"
The question stunned me and I really didn't really know what to say. I had only mentioned him to Gene a couple of times telling him of a couple of my father's exploits, but it seemed like Gene knew exactly who my father was just after hearing those for a few times.
"You know Gene, I have always wondered why you were downtown all these nights by yourself." As I said it I realized it was a stupid question.
"It's the best time of day to think and explore your thoughts," he replied. And that was it really. Gene couldn't understand what he or Kaeli had done to deserve Kaeli's death so he went out at night to be by himself and think. I suppose that in a way he is glad in a weird way that Kaeli had died and not him, because Gene would never wish that type of grief on his wife even though he probably feels guilty that he is the one alive and not her.
I think I knew a little bit how he felt from personal experience through my father. Maybe that feeling is a little weird but that just described the way Gene was and while Gene could be weird I guess a little bit of weirdness is a good thing. Who knows, maybe I would feel the same way. I guess that everyone just has a different way to cope with death and walking downtown was Gene's.
I asked Gene for a smoke because, even though I am not allowed to smoke while I'm working, sometimes rules are meant to be broken. I stood there puffing that cigarette and gazing at the few stars that I was able to see through the lights of the city with Gene by my side until I my feet hurt, so I sat down on the dirty asphalt. I sat there for what seemed a couple of hours. It would be light out soon.
The whole time we didn't say a word because we didn't need to say anything. It wasn't strange though, Gene and I just had this sort of understanding. I just was thinking and Gene was doing the same. I realized that grandpa died of colon cancer and my father was dying of colon cancer and that I could possibly die of colon cancer. Then my mind wandered on again not coming back for a while and it only came back when I was thinking of the Shasta trip when I was ten and I realized what my father had meant when he said he "had to climb the mountain." He really did have to climb the mountain because he was like Gene, he wanted to go experience the world and simply put experience life. Suddenly my radio interrupted me and I had to go respond to a B&E call.
It's a funny thing though, waiting for someone to die. I don't know if I will ever understand how I feel about it and I don't know if I will ever not feel guilty about it but that's okay I guess. I do think that I need to go on a hike this weekend though.
User Reviews
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-12-02 20:39:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-12-01 15:20:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2006-12-01 15:19:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i like
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2006-12-01 14:53:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice.
A few awkwardly put together sentences but still worth of a solid 2.
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2006-12-01 09:22:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well my happy friday mood just left me.
The police don't get paid enough for dealing with the shits on the streets.
Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2006-12-01 06:29:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Working in the Filth -3
Working in the Filth but breaking the rules +2
Damn good, touching story +2
Nice even +2, even for a Piggy.
"Oink"
Submitted by jfreakman (user info) at 2006-12-01 03:35:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
wtf i'm not reading all that
Submitted by RoytheJoy (user info) at 2006-12-01 03:24:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
A somber mood for the holiday season.
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-12-01 02:42:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh noes, the po-po, run!