Blackened Spiral Down (11 page)

Hand of the Dying

              Staring death in the face was not something that Roland Wilson was ready to do that day.  He had a typical, relaxing Sunday afternoon planned:  watching the Cardinals on television with his neighbor and grilling steaks when it cooled down.  Things changed with a phone call.  Roland was dozing off on the couch when it rang.

              “Roland, can you come over to my Dad’s right away?”

              It was the neighbor’s daughter, April, who lived across the street.  Roland was wide awake now at the urgency in her voice.  He knew something was really wrong.

              She was hyperventilating.  “Please hurry.  It’s Dad.  I think he’s had a heart attack!”

              Roland was already up and heading for the door when April starting crying on the phone.

              “I’ll be there in less than a minute.”

              In his mid-50’s, Roland’s mind was racing as he ran across the yard.  The August afternoon sun was intense.  He was squinting due to the harsh adjustment from his dimly-lit finished basement to the bright glare of the day.  He knew that Big John’s heart was living on borrowed time after a long life filled with eating whatever he wanted, to excess, and washing it down with plenty of ice-cold beer.  Sometimes after a stressful day, John would enjoy bourbon with one ice cube after dinner. There were very few people who could go drink-for-drink with him, without ending up passed out or slobbering drunk.  Big John appeared unaffected by alcohol, and his many great stories only improved when the drinks flowed.  His bigger-than-life persona was without compare.

Big John was a hulk of a man, and even in his early 70’s, the gentle giant was an imposing figure.  Back in his college days, at the University of Missouri, Big John was a star left tackle on the football team and held down a 4.0 grade point average in the classroom.  He stunned many of his friends and family when he turned down an offer to play professional football, for the fledgling San Diego Chargers of the American Football League.  Big John loved football but he wanted to teach even more, and at the time, professional football players didn’t make very much money.  Especially offensive lineman!  So he stayed in school to get his master’s degree in education and moved back to his home state of Illinois, to begin a storied career in education.  His tremendous abilities would impact an untold number of lives as he rose through the ranks as a teacher and then into administration.

Roland reached the front door and entered the house.  He could see April pacing back and forth in the living room and Big John unresponsive, lying on the couch.  He was still in his bathrobe and a pair of sweat pants.  He could see that Big John was breathing, but it appeared very shallow.  His body was sweaty, and his face was flushed.

“Thank God you’re here, Roland!”  April was crying, her eyes swollen and bloodshot.

“Did you call 911?”

April seemed stunned, like she hadn’t been able to process what he just asked her.

“What was that?”

Roland turned April slightly so he could look her in the face.

“Have you called the ambulance yet?” he asked, holding her shoulders square.

“My God, no I haven’t.  Can you call them, please?  I think I’m going to lose it.”

Roland pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.  He knelt down next to Big John, holding his hand, while he stared at his chest, watching it rise and fall, waiting for the operator to pick up.  He noticed it was 2:10 pm.

“Hang on big man.  Hang on for a minute,” he said to Big John, his throat tightening at the thought of losing someone so close to him.  He loved the man like a father.  He gripped John’s hand tight, and it seemed as if John’s hand squeezed back just a little bit.  There wasn’t much time.

It seemed like an eternity, even though it was only five seconds, before the operator answered the call.

“911, what is your emergency?” she asked, her voice sounding almost robotic to Roland, who was doing his best to hold it together.  April was now sitting down with her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.  He realized he was on his own with Big John until the ambulance arrived.  Death always scared him, and now that he was watching John slip slowly away, the idea sent chills up his spine.  Going to visitations or funerals always upset Roland, and at his age, he had only been to a few.  Seeing a dead body really bothered him, more now than ever, as some of his classmates had passed on, along with older family members.  There was something about the unknown that terrified him.

Roland suddenly realized his mouth was so dry he could barely speak.  “It’s my neighbor, John Sampson.  He’s not responding.  I think it’s a heart attack.  He takes medicine for it and had a mild heart attack a few years ago.”

“When was the patient last responsive sir?” the operator asked.

Roland looked over at April to ask her, but he knew she wasn’t going to be of any help in the state she was in.  “I don’t know.  His daughter found him, but she’s almost hysterical.”

Roland almost felt like he was detached from what was going on.  He could hear himself on the phone and could hear April crying, but the noises sounded like they were coming through a transistor radio speaker.  The operator’s voice was mechanical.

Hearing her voice made him think of a great day he spent with Big John, shortly after his wife Agnes died.  Big John seemed depressed, adjusting to living alone after more than 40 years of marriage.  Roland had divorced his wife two years before, after the last of their kids moved out.  He could relate to what it was like to live alone, after years of marriage.  Roland took him out on Lake Shelbyville, where they loved to go, especially after getting the new boat.  Fishing and hunting were second only to eating and drinking when it came to Big John.  Usually if you could manage to do all of the above, Big John would have called that “one of the great days”.   He could hear that voice now, as the boat rocked listlessly on the calm lake waters.  He knew how much Big John hated cell phones or anything resembling modern technology that forced people not to talk to each other face-to-face.  Hearing her monotone voice made Roland think of Big John lecturing him about the dumbing down of the country, at the hand of technology.

“You only get a handful of the great ones.  Only a handful of them, Roland.  So you gotta soak up every drop when they come around, my boy,” Big John said, smiling ear-to-ear for the first time in a month since Agnes died.

Roland smiled back and cast his line out, enjoying the day just as much as his huge companion.  They packed some ham and cheese sandwiches, homemade pickles, some deer jerky, and ice-cold beer in the cooler.  The weather could not have been better.  There was a slight breeze coming from the west, as if on cue, to make it a moment that Roland would put down as “one of the great ones”.

Big John would continue, in between bites of the large sandwich, “You just never know Roland, you never know when it’s your time.  When it is – well, then it is.  Only the big man upstairs knows when that is.  So you gotta enjoy everything – no matter how small.” 

“I hear you, John,” I replied.

He let out a large belch, followed by a hearty laugh. “Hand me another beer or two would you?”

Since Roland lost his father ten years before from a heart attack, Big John was like a surrogate dad.  He was about the same age as Roland’s real father, but the two couldn’t have been any more different.  While he was close to his father, Roland didn’t talk to him about anything more than small talk.  His father wasn’t the kind of guy who liked to open up and was a loner most of the time.  He was the postmaster for the post office in Pittsfield, Illinois.  In his free time, William Wilson enjoyed keeping his lawn the best on the block and was an avid gardener.  He did enjoy doing those things alone.  Big John, on the other hand, was the opposite when it came to socializing, and he wasn’t able to go anywhere without running into someone he knew.  Everyone who met Big John loved him.  Roland never heard anyone say a bad word about the man.  Even former students were excited to see him, no matter how many years they were separated from the classroom.  Former teachers looked up to him, and their adoration was unmistakable.

Big John taught at three different school districts in Illinois before becoming a principal in Franklin, and then five years later, he was promoted to superintendent.  He was admired by all, and he genuinely loved them back.  Agnes was a teacher at the school where he was the principal, and soon after they met, they began a relationship, and they married the following year.  She continued to teach middle school English, and they had two children.  Their son, James, moved to Texas upon graduating college, and was a salesman for a Dallas pharmaceutical company, while April stayed in town and moved across the street, still unmarried in her 40’s.  She worked at a local K-Mart.  She did help Agnes and John as they got older, and now that John was having some difficulty getting around, she was doing much more.  She knew how close Big John and Roland had become and welcomed seeing her father happy again.

Just then, he realized the operator had asked him a question.

“1910 North Old Pine Road.”

“OK, sir, an ambulance is on the way.  Please stay on the line until they arrive.”

Roland continued to stare at Big John’s chest as it rose and fell.  He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, worrying about what would happen if John’s breathing stopped.  What would he do?  They had annual CPR and first aid training at the General Electric plant that he managed in nearby Quincy.  It was one thing to sit in a classroom and practice on dummies, but it was another to be looking death in the face, as a man he idolized hung on to life by a thread.  In the distance, he heard the first whine of the ambulance siren.  Roland held his hand tighter.  It looked like Big John’s breathing was slowing down, but he couldn’t be sure.  He noted that it was 2:19 pm.

He remembered that soon after meeting him, Big John had invited him to a wild game feed that he put on for all his friends who loved to hunt, or who at least enjoyed eating all the food he prepared.  Big John and Agnes put on one hell of a spread in the back yard, and it usually was held on the first Saturday in October.  His friends made sure they put it down on the calendar each year, because no one wanted to miss it.  John would cook a variety of game, typically venison, wild turkey, pheasant, rabbit and quail.   Some years, he would surprise everyone with something different.  The first feed Roland attended featured a whole hog that Big John roasted over an open pit all day.  Between the fantastic food and the kegs of beer that Big John changed out like a member of a seasoned pit crew, everyone had a great time.  When it got dark, Big John would start telling some of his classic stories that the little ones shouldn’t be hearing.  Even if you heard the stories countless times, his knack for telling them kept the laughs rolling well into the night.  No matter what, Big John would always manage to tell one that Roland hadn’t heard before.  The first time hearing one of his stories was special.

Roland’s favorite wild game feed was about ten years ago when Big John introduced him to one of his old high school friends as “his other son”.   Roland loved Big John like a father, but hearing him refer to him as a son made the relationship between them even more special.  Just listening to John weave those great stories made Roland swell with pride.  He felt like he knew the man all his life. 

Now Roland could hear the ambulance getting closer.  They lived out in the country, so he knew it was at least a ten minute trip, and another ten minutes to the nearest hospital.  Gripping Big John’s meaty hand, Roland didn’t know if his friend would make the trip.  He felt John squeeze him back, but he wasn’t sure if it was real or wishful thinking.

“Stay with me, John.  Stay with me.”  Tears were falling.

Staring at him on the couch, Roland thought he saw a slight twitch in John’s face.  It looked like the slightest tear began to trickle down Big John’s wrinkled countenance.  Roland wiped it away, and did the same with his own tears, knowing the ambulance would be there any moment.  April was still weeping and not offering any help.  There really wasn’t anything either could do.  Big John was slowly slipping away.

The ambulance was in the driveway now.  Roland heard two doors shut one after the other, as the EMTs made their way into the house with a stretcher and bags of gear.  He knew that any moment they would ask him to move aside while they did what they could to save their patient.  It was then that Roland thought about Big John, and how he had lived his life.  While death scared Roland, he knew that Big John had a different outlook on things.  He always talked about those “great ones” and how you only got a handful.  Roland smiled when he realized that the great man he was kneeling before had bucketfuls of them; buckets upon buckets of “great ones”.  As a matter of fact, Big John himself was one of the great ones.

Roland thought about the St. Louis Cardinal games they went to, all the amazing fishing trips, deer hunting every fall, and shooting ducks from a blind, sharing a flask of Jack Daniels on a crisp fall morning.  Through knowing Big John, Roland had several of his own bucketfuls of “great ones”.  He almost felt selfish now, holding John’s hand, and wanting him to stay behind with the living.  Roland knew that Big John was probably ready to reunite with Agnes again, the woman he adored every day they were together.  How could he be so selfish and want him to stay?