A Pact For Life (15 page)

It was a Wednesday night at Full Steam Ahead, and the coffee shop was empty except a corner table with its usual three occupants.

Brian plopped a black backpack down on the table and announced, “Pharmaceutical Wednesday fellows. So what will it be?”

Inside Brian's backpack was every controlled substance known to man. He had drugs that could make a person feel like they were traveling through space, time, or most importantly, mind. Pharmaceutical Wednesday. The name pretty much says it all. Over the years, it had become a weekly tradition for the three men to ingest a pill or two and fly to the stars.

Nick immediately said, “Adderall,” and was slid a small blue pill.

Brian was next. “I'm going with Vicodin tonight. Right now, all I wanna do is just sit back and melt away.”

Cale was unsure what he wanted to take. His mind wasn't focused on pills, but rather the inevitable mess the baby would bring to all their lives. He wasn't the type of person who should be a father, and Diana certainly wasn't motherly. What chance did their child have of having a happy, healthy life?

“If you're not going to decide, then I'll pick for you.” Brian said as he produced a large white pill. “Here, take an Ativan. Fair warning though, you probably want to snap this in half. This is two milligrams which will make your head feel like a bag of popcorn in mid-pop.”

With all the issues swirling around in his head, there wasn't a chance in hell he was breaking that pill up. He needed escape. So with the Ativan in hand, Cale breathed deep and hoped for the best.

There was a drink, swallow, and that was that. Two milligrams of C
H
Cl
N
O
were working their way into Cale's bloodstream all to fire up a few neurons that would hopefully make him feel better.

As they waited for the drugs to take effect, Nick asked Cale, “So I suppose Pharmaceutical Wednesday will be over for you after the baby is born?”

On top of all of the other sacrifices Cale had thought about over the past week, getting high had slipped his mind. He added it to the ever growing mental list which included other girls, late nights, offensive music and movies, swearing, spontaneous travels, adventures, sleeping in, spending freely without need for saving, and uninterrupted night’s sleep.

After twenty minutes, several jolts tickled the inside of his head. They didn’t make him think any differently, but at least there was evidence the drugs were working.

He picked up a copy of the
New York Times
headlining dire economic forecasts, updates on multiple wars, corruption in the senate, an earthquake in California, and a hurricane in Florida. Finishing the last front page article, he said, “The world really is a shitty place.”

Brian took a sip of his coffee and slid back in his chair. Slowly, he joked, “Look at the back page if you really want bad news.”

Cale flipped the paper over and there it was staring him down.
The New York Times'
wedding announcements. A beacon for all of the over-achieving, wildly successful, crop creamers who want to show the world that yes, not only are they more successful than everyone else, but according to the pictures where they're locked in each other’s embrace, more happy and more in love.

More jolts and shocks were going off inside Cale's head, they were urging him to speak his mind and confide all of his doubts, worries, and fears to his friends. “Do you guys think Diana is going to be a good mother?”

Nick said nothing while Brian chortled, shook his head ‘no,’ and became one with his chair.

Cale pulled out his cell phone and said, “Yeah, I think so, too. Look at this text she sent on a flight a few weeks ago.”

Letting kids onto planes was one of the worst ideas ever. On flights, I wear headphones and read. When people see me on a plane, they pray I sit next to them.

Reaching the amphetamine high where he could multitask with ease, Nick said from behind the screen of his laptop, “Isn't it dangerous to use your phone on a plane?”

Brian swallowed some coffee and came alive once again, “That's bullshit. Think about the rays that float around the atmosphere? Radio, TV, UV, X, gamma...manta. With all of that going on, do you really think an iPhone is going to bring down a jet?”

Nick typed something and began reading, “The major problems are that the mobile phones or other electronic devices may interfere with aircraft systems or computers due to poor or missing shielding and cause a catastrophic failure of the control mechanisms.”

Brian waved it off. “More Wikipedia garbage. I tell you what Nick, if a 747 crashes because some girl decides to sext, then I owe you an apology.”

“How about you never say sext again?”

The two continued to debate as Cale stared out the window at snow slowly falling. He wanted to run out and get buried in it. Or at least suffocate enough to kill a few brain cells, leaving only a happy oblivion.

Brian interrupted his brain cell killing fantasy with, “I'm worried about your parenting skills too, Cale. Schools start at what? 7 AM? When was the last time you were up that early? Was it even this decade? I don't want to offend, but have you guys looked into adoption?”

Unknown to Diana, Cale had thought about adoption. It started out as a flash in the mind while he was having dinner with his father, but since then has morphed into something much larger. Now, with his head feeling like the skies over Washington DC on the 4th of July, adoption seemed to be the way to go.

“I'll be right back,” Cale announced and stood up as the room took on a slant from his blood pressure, firings neurons, and damning realization. He walked back to Full Steam Ahead's office, sat down, opened up a notebook, and began to write:

To my unborn child,

I'm sure this will be the first of many apologies in this letter, but I want to start by saying I'm sorry for doing something as cliché as the unborn child letter. I promise I'm really not this lame, but I don't know any other way to tell you how I feel.

There is this question that's been rattling around in this head of mine these past few weeks: Is it better for a child to grow up with unsuitable biological parents, or to be adopted by people who would put the child's happiness above all? Every time I think about this, the adoption answer wins.

My father, your grandfather, the smoothest man you'll ever meet, always stressed the three basic human rights – life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Well I decided there needs to be one more added – a happy childhood. Life is not fair and the world can be a downright awful place, but that should not apply to children. Your world should be magical.

Although your mother will never admit that she has a weakness, I can tell you that she cannot make time for others. She's determined to a fault and will stop at nothing to get the job done. I would say she is a perfectionist, but that wouldn't do her justice. This isn’t anything against her, it’s just the way she is, and it’s one of the reasons why she's so important to me.

This wouldn't be such a problem if I had any confidence in my own ability as a father. Depending on how much you take after me, you know this doubt is justified. For me, self-destruction is something as entwined in my DNA as my hair color. I know I'll end up disappointing you, or even worse, hurting you, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

Heh, how sad is it that the only way I'm able to get the truth out is by writing it down? I don't get it, I used to be able to put everything that I held inside into one piece, it was my life, and... forget about it. I won't whine about it anymore.

I don't care if you look me up when you are older. Actually, I welcome it. I'll feel better that you can release any built up anger you will have toward me. I can take a punch as well as the best of them, so if that's your thing, I'll stand there a take what I'm sure will be a well-deserved punishment.

I know the fatherly thing to do is provide advice, but sadly, I don’t have much to share. Hopefully this little bit will be beneficial at one point or another.

1. If you are a male, always help a girl in distress. People like to say chivalry is dead. Prove them wrong.

2. If you are female, be strong enough that you are never in distress.

3. Save your swear words for special moments. Like everything else, they lose effect the more they're used. When you swear, people should understand the significance.

4. Never be ambiguous or abstract. Have clear cut meanings behind everything you do. Aim for Manet, not Pollack.

5. Cherish your friends, but do not dwell too long if you lose them.

6. Be a better person than me.

Your worthless father,

Cale Dawkins

Diana was at home sitting behind a desk littered with papers, but she wasn't doing any work. Nope, the great worker was actually celebrating. The reason for the celebration? The death of her dating life.

It was a joyous funeral highlighted by eulogies for online dating, the Denver Single Professionals Society, lonely holidays, overbearing, egotistical men, and blind dates arranged through acquaintances all in some deep hope they would lead to 'The One'.

'The One', what a nonsensical, Hallmark created, idea. Diana scoffed at the notion there was actually someone out there specifically for her. She was done trying to find 'The One'. Cale made her happy, and that's all that mattered.

In what had become a routine of sorts, the knob of Diana's front door rattled and clicked before being replaced by a more traditional knock. She jumped up from behind her desk and hurried to open the door, revealing behind it a deceivingly joyful looking Cale.

“Hey darlin', how'd the exam go?”

She grabbed him by the collar and yanked, planting a kiss that almost flushed away all his earlier doubts.

“So... it went well?”

Like a girl in love, she airily said, “Oh Cale, it was such a waste of time. I should've skipped it.”

There it was. A small irresponsible act toward their future child that convinced Cale he needed to tell her how he felt.

“Diana, we need to talk.”

By using her real name, Diana thought he was going to propose once again. But what about the ring? He told her it was lost, but then again, it would've been like him to pull such an elaborate prank.

“I think we should give the baby up for adoption.”

This had the effect of a doctor giving the 'you have cancer' news to a patient. The room began closing in, and Diana found herself dropping to the couch in some vain attempt to slow its progress. She could barely get out the words to ask, “Why?”

“Come on, look at us. We are going to be horrible parents. With adoption, the baby can at least go to responsible people who will take care of our child much better than we will.”

That lovey-dovey feeling Diana had only minutes before? Yeah, Cale's suggestion had torn it to shreds. “That is bullshit, you're the irresponsible one. I'll have no problem taking care of it.”