Ad Nauseam (8 page)

“Lazy dog.” William laughed and retrieved the Frisbee. He climbed the steps onto the back porch to grab a beer, when something small bounced off his head and rolled across the wood.

“What the hell?” Leaning over to pick it up, he realized it was a pellet of rat poison. Two more pellets hit him and he looked up, just in time for a third to hit his nose. The squirrel was once again perched on the edge of the gutter, pelting him with the poison. The little beast then threw the rest over the edge and screeched at him in indignation.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You little bastard.” William gathered up the remaining pellets and tossed them in the trash can, mindful of Devon eating it. He was halfway amused, but also a bit angry. “That’s it. You’ve got this coming.”

It took a while to find it, but he discovered his son’s old pellet gun tucked away in a dusty box in the garage. William grabbed the ladder once again on his way out. This time the squirrel held his ground on the roof, squawking at the intrusion as William climbed the rungs and braced his elbows on the shingles. He hadn’t fired a gun of any kind in many years and the first pellet went high and wide.

The rodent fled at the sound of the gun, as the next pellet hit it square in the shoulder. It jumped high into the air, squealing and chittering. Expecting the creature to run away, William was surprised when it turned back to him and charged, its large teeth bared.

Hurrying to retreat, William’s foot slipped on the ladder and his chin hit the top rung painfully, causing him to bite his tongue in the process. He scrambled down the ladder and out into the middle of the yard, where Devon waited, yapping.

“That’s right, Devon. You tell him, boy.” William wiped his chin and his hand came away wet with blood. Glancing up at the roof, he couldn’t see the squirrel anymore.

Good. Maybe the little bastard will stay gone now.

***

“What happened to your face?” Kristi moved his hands away as he tried to prevent her from tracing the bandage on his chin.

“I slipped on the ladder and hit my chin. It’s not a big deal.”

“Why in God’s name were you on the ladder?”

“I was shooting that squirrel. The lil’ bugger wouldn’t eat the poison, so I shot him with Max’s pellet gun.” William tried grinning, but it made his chin sting.

“Maybe we should take you in to see the doctor.” Kristi gave him a look of concern.

“I told you I’m fine.” He hated that concerned look more than anything. Even when she was harping on him, something he was used to after decades of marriage, she always had that half-worried look on her face. She acted like he was crazy sometimes, or a child that needed to be reminded of the most basic tasks. William had buried his own mother five years ago, and didn’t need a substitute.

“Did you take your pill?”

“Goddamnit, Kristi! I am not depressed. There’s nothing wrong with me. I got hurt trying to get rid of a squirrel. That’s all. The same damned squirrel you’ve been riding my ass to kill.” William was surprised at the venom in his response. He hadn’t known he was angry until he started yelling.

Kristi stared at him, blinking back tears. Unable to deal with his wife at the moment, he turned and stalked out of the room, hearing the first of her sobs as he walked away.

***

The next morning, William awoke to Devon’s barking outside and the phone ringing on the nightstand. He turned to discover Kristi’s side of the bed was empty.

Must still be miffed from last night.
Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat up and reached for the telephone on the nightstand.

“Hello?”

“Oh thank God, Dad! It took you so long to answer, I was just about to hang up and call the cops.”

“What are you talking about, Max?”

“I’ve called you three times this morning, Dad.”

“You have? I guess I was just sleeping soundly. What’s the big emergency? I mean, it’s not like I’m not happy to hear from you son, but what’s going on?” William hadn’t talked to his son in close to a month, but he knew that his oldest was busy with his job and family. He missed his kids and grandchildren though, and was disappointed to hear from Kristi that they weren’t going to be able to get together over the summer.

“We need to talk. You might want to sit down.”

William’s pulse picked up as a rush of adrenaline spurred his heart on, though he kept his voice level. “I am sitting. What is it?”

“I hate to be the one to do this, but if I don’t, I don’t think anyone else ever will. I never agreed with the way Mom chose to handle this, but I’m tired of her calling me at night crying. You need to be told.”

“Whoa. Slow down, Max.” William felt a throb develop in his right temple and was unable to follow where his son’s conversation was going. “What are you talking about and what is this about your Mom?”

“She’s worried sick about you, Dad.” Max paused. “We all are. You’ve been acting strange and you won’t take your medication like the doctor says —”

“Now hold on a damned second. I don’t know what your Mom has been telling you, but I’m fine. I don’t need any pills. I’m not depressed.” William felt himself getting angry. Kristi had no business calling and getting the kids all riled up over nothing.

“Those pills aren’t for depression, Dad. They’re for dementia.”

The sun still shone brightly in his eyes, and Devon was still barking his ass off outside, but William didn’t notice any of it. His mind froze, trying to grasp Max’s words.

“What?”

“You heard me, Dad. You’re losing it. And Mom doesn’t know how much longer she can deal with this by herself.”

“I don’t know what the fu-, what the hell you are talking about.” William paused and rubbed his temple, fighting a losing battle against his temper. “But there is
nothing
wrong with my mind.”

“Really? What do you remember from yesterday, Dad?”

“I did some yard work, and I had a fight with your Mom.” William snapped, suddenly very tired and wanting to slam the phone down to silence the accusations.

“That’s all? That’s really all you did? What did you have for lunch? For supper?”

“I don —”

“That’s right. You don’t know. You’ve been losing time for months now. It was Mom’s idea to tell you that the pills were for depression, but I always thought you should be told. Especially after losing your job like that.”

“I retired.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Dad! You didn’t retire. You were
forced
to resign. You can’t tell me you’ve completely forgotten or suppressed or whatever what you did. You whipped your dick out in the middle of class and pissed in the trashcan. You’re just lucky that no one pressed charges for indecent exposure.”

William dropped to his knees, unaware he had even stood up. His skin felt cold but he was hot inside, his guts churning. He felt like his whole world had just been turned upside down
.

Flashes of half memories began to assault him, but blessedly flitted away again. Emotions rolled within him; anger, shame, and confusion battled against one another until his head felt like someone was hammering it.

Something rolled across the roof and Devon howled, snapping William out of his torment. The phone was still in his hand, the sound of his son’s voice far away. Not listening to what Max said, he put the phone to his ear and spoke in an even voice that sounded alien to him.

“I love you, Max, but shut up. I have to go.” He put the phone back on the cradle and rose to his feet, his legs numb and shaky. There was a scrambling sound from the roof and he looked up, as if he could somehow see through the upper floors and the rafters to the shingles above.

The squirrel.

William stumbled into the master bathroom and retrieved a can of
Aquanet
hairspray from the counter. He shook it and sprayed a fine mist, checking to make sure the nozzle wasn’t clogged. The smell made him smile, for a second he remembered making out with Kristi long ago in his Buick, the lovely scent of her perfume and sweat mingling with her hairspray.

In the junk drawer he found a lighter and flicked it, getting a long flame on the second try. They had both quit smoking when the grandkids were born, but Kristi loved candles and always had a lighter around. Not giving any thought to the fact he still wore nothing but his ratty bathrobe over his boxers and customary white t-shirt, William walked outside.

The ladder was still up against the side of the house and he paused, scratching his head. He thought he had put it away. He never left his stuff out. Something wet bumped his hand and he actually screamed, pulling it back in
.
Devon let out a concerned
woof
and cowered, fearful of being struck. The sight made William’s heart ache.

“Oh Jesus, boy. You really scared me.” He scratched the dog behind an ear and Devon kicked one back leg in response, blissfully trying to scratch an imaginary itch. William stared up at the roof, seeing only the occasional fluff of the squirrel’s tail as it strutted around.

His mind spun with bits of his conversation with Max as well as images of things he had forgotten he’d done, like screaming at his class, a fight with Kristi. Had he hit her?
Could I ever hit her?
He shut the thoughts out, his focus on nothing more than that taunting red tail and the smug little rodent it was attached to. His anxiety and fear formed into a ball of white-hot rage, causing bile and acid to churn and eat at his stomach lining.

“You little son of a bitch, I’m getting you once and for all.” William gripped the can of hairspray in one hand and climbed the ladder using his free one. When he reached the top, he swung one butt cheek onto the roof, his free hand grabbing the shingles for support. He felt cold inside, an icy resolution stealing his nerves. “Come on, you bastard. This ends today.”

The squirrel held his ground, locked in a stare-down with William that lasted several moments. Neither made a sound as William reached into his pocket to retrieve the lighter. He waited, but the squirrel simply stared, not coming close enough for him to get it. He could see a wound on its shoulder where he had shot it with the pellet gun, but it had scabbed over and the squirrel didn’t appear any the worse for wear.

Devon let out a howl, startling William, and he almost slid off the roof. He glanced at the dog and heard an awful screeching, turning in time to see his tormentor come barreling across the shingles towards him. He didn’t have time to aim, simply pressed the button on the aerosol can and flicked the lighter.

The flame was impressive, shooting out several feet and igniting the rodent. He realized too late what was going to happen and leaned backwards to avoid the squealing, flaming demon that hurtled towards him like a bullet. Losing his footing and pin-wheeling his arms, he fell from the roof. Then his head hit the ground and the world went black.

***

William really wanted to stay asleep, but something warm and wet kept smacking him in the face. A high-pitched whining intruded on his slumber and the wet thing moved to the side of his head. This caused a flash of pain that made his eyes pop open, only to close back to slits as the afternoon sunlight stabbed his brain. Then Devon’s jowly face mercifully blocked out the sun, and a renewed round of licking ensued.

“Devon. Stop.” William chuckled weakly and tried to push the dog away.
Why am I on the ground? Did I faint? Was it a stroke?
He was confused, and when he tried to sit up, a thunderous pain ripped through his skull. Then he remembered.

The squirrel.

He slowly did a careful inventory of injuries. His head still thumped and his ribs on the right side were a mass of radiating agony, but other than that he felt fine. Sitting up slowly, he saw a decent- sized rock covered in blood where he’d been laying.

Must’ve hit my head on the bastard. Lucky I didn’t split my fool skull open.
Probing the wound on the side of his skull with shaking fingers, he decided his original assessment may have been premature. His head didn’t feel exactly
intact
anymore.

That left the mystery of his ribs, but he quickly surmised what had happened when he saw a ceramic lawn ornament shattered on the grass. He’d landed on the thing, pieces of white glass protruded from the side of his chest, and he marveled at how little alarm he really felt, considering he didn’t know how deep they went or if he had punctured a lung. Something moving on his right caught his attention and he gaped at what lay next to him on the lawn.

“You tough little shit!” William said with wonder and more than a small measure of respect as he watched the squirrel struggle to get upright. The thing was nearly hairless, its skin scorched and blistered. Apparently blinded by the fire, his beady black eyes were now a milky color. Alternating between squawks and mewls, it still appeared as though it were trying to come at him. Dragging limp back legs and a charred tail, it slowly and what had to have been painfully made its way across the grass, teeth bared. Devon backed up and growled.

“It’s okay, boy.” William said, grabbing the bloody rock that had left a dent in his skull. It was heavy and sharp in his hand as he lifted it over his head to smash the squirrel, but he froze in position. His head thumped and swam, his thoughts a jumble of confusion surrounded by a red mist of agony. He couldn’t do it. He knew it would even be a kindness at this point, to put the creature out of its obvious misery, but he found himself admiring its spirit. Crippled and dying it still came, dedicated to its cause.

William dropped the rock as bitter tears ran down his face. He thought about how he must appear from the outside. Thought about what he was on the inside.

I’m useless and old. And I’m losing my mind. I can’t even vanquish a squirrel. I’m just an old man with an old dog, weeping in my yard.
William wished more than anything that he had died in the fall. He was an embarrassment to his family. A burden on his children and wife.

Guilt gave way to anger in a flash. It was Kristi who had caused all of this, Kristi who forced him to hurt the squirrel.