Undying (2 page)

  I was wheeling the enormous spool of grass to the end of the field. The spool was now a foot taller than me and was very difficult to roll. I came to the end and the wheel of sod plopped off of the turf and fell over like all the others. I looked over and saw Hector standing by his last completed spool, just staring at it with his pitchfork shaking in his hand. This guy was my friend and I was sick of seeing him like this. I wanted to cheer him up like he did for me so many times before.   

  As I approached him I became nervous, which was weird. I would usually go out of my way to hang out with him at work to avoid the less friendly individuals. I stopped a few feet away from him. He just kept staring down. At first I thought he was ignoring me. I cleared my throat and it startled him. He looked up at me with a face I've never seen him make. His eyes were tearing up but he didn't look sad. He looked like he was ready to kill somebody. I slowly took a step back and tried to gain the courage to say something. Every aspect of his once kind expressions were now twisted with rage.

  "Are you okay, man?"

  He didn't answer me right away. He relaxed his composure a bit. He thought for a moment, looking at me with his heartbreaking gaze. This was a good man. More so, an amazing person. At the worst of times he would smile in the face of misery. What the hell could possibly do this to him, I thought to myself.

  "What is the point of all of this?" He muttered coldly.

  "That's kind of a broad question. What's going on, Hector? Are you alright?"

  He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. This came as quite a surprise to me because I have heard him boast about quitting smoking after twenty years more than once. He pulled one from the pack and lit it without skipping a beat. He took the first two drags like it had the antidote in it. He held out the pack. I took one. I had not smoked in a while but this wasn't a great moment to be turning down offers. I lit mine and thanked him. He took another deep drag and looked at me.

  "I caught my wife.." He choked up a bit and just stopped talking to take another ridiculously large drag.

  "Damn, Hector. That's really awful. I'm sorry, man."

  "With two of my friends!" He said in a tone that I couldn't believe was his own.

  What the hell are you supposed to say to something like that? I remember being in such shock that I couldn't think of anything to say that would possibly help. I had no right to say anything. How could I ever possibly put myself in that scenario?

  "I just can't.. I can't believe she would do that! I did everything and she's just messing around with everyone I know. Did you.. Did you mess around with my wife? Huh?!?" He yelled, all of a sudden, while pointing his pitchfork at me.

  "No way man! I would never-" I put my hands up and dropped my cigarette. 

  "Are you fucking my wife too?!" He threw the pitchfork down and began to approach me.

  "I would never do that to you, man. You're my friend!" I yelled in one last desperate attempt to not get my ass kicked.

  He stopped. His rage broke and turned into sadness. He looked down at the ground, ashamed. I must admit, I was extremely relieved.

  "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't.. I.. I'll be right back. Just need to go to the can."

  He strolled off to the nearest bathroom in the school. They let us use one of the bathrooms because our employers were too cheap to supply portable ones. I picked my half of a cigarette off of the ground. Each time I lifted it to my lips I could see the end shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't believe that such a kind person could snap so badly. Then it came to me. A thought I never wish I had ever conceived. If the nicest guy in the world, who made decent money and was always there for his family, could get cheated on in the worst way then it would just make sense that a loser like me would befall the same fate. It terrified me. I'd try to shake the thought, but it would always be there.

  I got back to work. I had to operate a sod cutter, a large push mower looking device with a huge blade that digs under the ground and cuts the grass below the root allowing you to pull it up in neat strips. This machine was loud when it was fired up. It gave me a headache even with earplugs in. It was getting to be late in the day and maneuvering that heavy beast was getting to be a hassle. Finally, I finished my last run. I proudly powered down my machine and pulled my earplugs out. Then I could hear the sirens. I looked up and I saw several police cars and an ambulance. I knew right away. One  of the workers were talking to an officer and he pointed at me. I saved the cop some time and started heading his way. The officer was nice. He explained to me that Hector had shot himself in the bathroom stall. Apparently, I was the last one to talk to him. I explained to the officer what he had told me earlier about his wife. The cop shook his head sadly and thanked me for my help. When they wheeled out Hector in a black bag, I remember it being hard not to start balling like a teenage girl in front of all my coworkers. I couldn't process it. That moment still haunts me to this day. So does the doubt. I think the doubt haunts me a tiny bit more.  

  That night I got home and went straight to the shower. I must have been in there for over an hour, just standing emotionlessly. I remember making dinner for Penelope and I. She would be home soon. I made lasagna, which took a while. I was surprised that she still wasn't home even after an hour of baking. I left it in the oven and turned the heat off. I'll just lay down on the couch for a few minutes until she gets home, I thought. I wanted to just hold her and have her tell me things to feel better about everything. Even if it wasn't true, have her tell me that I would never end up like Hector. I waited, and with time came thinking too much. I couldn't believe that the world could be so bad that even genuine people are shown no mercy. A single tear fell from my eye and I fell asleep.

  Several hours later, she came stumbling in. I peeled my eyes open when I heard the door shut. I leaped up from the couch and walked towards my girl.

    "I missed you. Where have you been?" I put my arms around her and did my best to ignore the smell of beer and cigarettes.

  "I got off work late then went to my mom's for a while." she pulled away. "I need a shower."

  "I made us dinner. Guess you forgot we were doing that tonight.."

  Then she snapped. That was the first of many one sided fights that ended in me just giving up to preserve the relationship. Things were hard enough without ruining my home life. The few years it took for me to finish school, make thousands of designs, and sell one were some of the hardest years of my life. We hardly saw each other and when we did it was typically awkward. A lot of the time I felt like I was the only one trying, but who doesn't say that in every relationship?

  I remember one time, we were driving home from the store and we saw a car stopped with its hazards on. We pulled over to help out the guy. I must admit, I was a little irritated to see how excited she was when she recognized the guy. Some douche looking guy with a hat on backwards. She gave him a flying hug and a "How've you been?" That's more than I get most days. Perhaps I'm just being paranoid or insecure. Even if she would ever consider doing stuff behind my back, getting crazy about it would make the whole situation worse. I wasn't going to risk losing my dream girl because I was feeling inadequate. So, I helped the guy jump his car battery. We talked briefly while hooking up the cables.

  "So you're the guy who lives with Penelope." An odd statement.

  "Have we met?" I asked, trying to not sound noticeably rude.

  "Not really. I've seen you driving down the street. I live practically right across from you guys."

  That's reassuring, I thought with disdain. I then remembered seeing him a few times. He'd always stare at me from his yard when I would drive by, pretending to be a tough guy. Maybe he wouldn't be such an ass, now. I got on with helping him out just to get on with my day. We still had groceries that needed to get into the fridge. They hugged, we left, and that night we fought. All I did was ask how come I've never met that guy before. I knew I should not have said anything. It just seemed to keep getting worse every week until, finally, that life saving call came in. You'd be surprised how quick things can change. More money than I know what to do with for a project I hardly remember? I'll take it. It even got me my loving girlfriend back. Well, fiancé, now. Thank God. Now, I can rest easy and, for once, be confident that tomorrow when I wake up everything is going to be just fine. When you haven't been born into money, that is a very rare feeling.

  I wake up from a nightmare today. I cannot, for the life of me, remember what it was about but for some reason, it's bothering me. I hate this unexplainable feeling. Gravity feels heavier than normal and my mind is drained as if I haven't slept at all. I look around the room and everything appears dreary, as if it is my normal bedroom, but grayscale. It's funny how something that I cannot remember can leave me with such a strange, empty feeling. The dream must have been pretty depressing. I take a moment to think about everything. I force myself to remember that everything is fine, now. I can finally relax and enjoy the best years of my life. That thought gives me the push I need to pull the warm covers off and roll my way out of bed.

  I look around the room for the cat. I don't see him, so it's safe to assume that he is outside or begging for bacon in the kitchen. I hobble out of the bedroom. I can hear Penelope on the other side of the house. I decide not to bug her right away. After a pit stop at the bathroom, I make my way to the office. I open the squeaky door to my sanctuary away from the world. I've gotten a whole lot of work done in here, I think to myself proudly while looking around at my dusty shelves of collectables and framed autographs of my favorite actors hanging majestically. I plop myself into my command center; a sixty dollar office chair and a desk I found at a yard sale for only forty. My desktop is not visible anywhere but directly in front of the chair, thanks to the heaping stacks of random sketches. I remember when they first contacted me about my casino project, I was in a panic trying to find the blueprints for it. Halfway into tearing my neatly organized office apart, the man on the phone told me they already had a copy. Obviously, I sent it to them in the first place. I was embarrassed, but too excited to let trip me up on the moment I've dreamed of. It had been years since I finished that project. There would have to be adjustments made, but once I accepted the job, they almost instantly wired me money. The adjustments they wanted were easy to make. Now that I am more experienced, it had only taken me two days. 

  I bring my attention to the cluttered table top before me. Somewhere under all the paper is a laptop that I save and edit my final drafts onto. For the most part, I enjoy hand drawing my sketches. Today I find that I have very little motivation to start a new sketch. Perhaps a bowl of pipe tobacco will help me relax and find the urge to create something. I know it isn't healthy, but it feels good and takes me back to a simpler time. Back when my grandfather was alive. Damn, he was a cool guy. I think about the stories he would tell me, as I push the tobacco into his old wooden pipe. He would tell me his epic tales while smoking from this exact same pipe. I remember just sitting on the floor, listening to him for hours. He would brag about surviving two tours as a fighter pilot in the Korean war. In his defense, this was a notable feat. This was the first war that the US had jet based fighter planes. Though the F-86 Sabre was a beast, it wasn't quite as user friendly as jets today. The life expectancy was really low and he survived two whole tours of going out into battle constantly! Even as a child, I could deeply respect that. I could never put myself into harm's way. I see myself freezing up and choking when it really counts. I finish burning through my tobacco and bring my attention to the scuffed wood of the desktop again. Maybe today isn't the day for architecture. I put my grandfather's wooden pipe back into its small box. In my mind, I thank him and tell him I miss him. What can I say? I'm a sentimental guy. I stand up and head to the kitchen to see the love of my life.

  For some reason, walking down the hallway triggers something that makes me remember a part of my nightmare. Just a small flash comes back to me. I can't seem to remember anything specific. I just remember being in a weird hall or passage of some kind. One side was a wall made of wood planks, the green paint on the wood is chipped and weathered, and the other side was some kind of chain link fence, I think. In the dream, I was crowded with a large amount of people. Saying that we were "elbow to elbow" would be an understatement. I remember we were all jammed in there tight. I was stumbling and being pushed forward in the wave of bodies. I think we were trying to get to someone, or maybe get away from something. I stop and try to think of what else happened but nothing comes to mind. I'm hungry and drawing a blank. I continue my voyage to the kitchen.

  The television catches my eye as I enter the living room. What's on the "Death and Destruction Network?" I think to myself cynically upon noticing that the news is on. Another Ebola outbreak in the United States. It is somewhat troublesome but there is no way that virus would make it over here. Not in this city, anyway. They are always trying to scare people with something. Everyone freaks out and gets prepared for some ridiculous crackpot version of what they think is going to happen. Then, surprise! Nothing ever happens. I have a whole lot more to focus on then some Y2K nonsense and I am willing to bet money that she's cooking bacon for me, right now. 

  Upon entering the kitchen I'm pleased to find that my prediction was spot on. The bacon pops like fire crackers in the frying pan. Standing elegantly in front of the stove is my beautiful fiancé. She looks at me with a heart melting smile and I grin boyishly. The ambiance of the moment takes me away into sweet nostalgia. Moments after sunrise, next to a lake. We were cooking a grand feast of breakfast goods over a large skillet on a portable propane burner. We had planned for months to go camping, just the two of us, for a weekend. When the stars aligned and we both managed to get the coinciding time off, we took the opportunity for the getaway. I remember we had to turn around a few times. You know how men can be with asking for directions. We finally found where we were going. A stunning lake nestled away in fields of hilly greenery. We had about two minutes to enjoy its beauty before the rain began to pour down with biblical ferocity. It was quite the uphill struggle for two people, not experienced with the outdoors, setting up a tent in the intense downpour. We assembled it as quickly as possible and darted inside. Neither one of us were particularly bothered by the situation. Instead, we laughed and enjoyed the moment for what it was; perfection. We kept each other warm through the night and woke up to a beautiful morning. A simple trip that I will never forget.

  On that note, I shake off the grogginess of poor sleep and go to get the newspaper. It is weird going from worried every single day about all the stuff that needs to get done, to bored and content. I can handle bored and content. I think I will adjust quite nicely to the lifestyle. I walk into to warmth of the sun. There isn't a cloud in the sky today. The grass in the front yard is still surprisingly green considering that the shock of fall is already starting to claim the trees in everyone's yards. What was Penelope's flourishing garden is now dried stalks and bushes of flowers that have lost their life. The small metal border we set up around the garden is bent to shit on one side. It is likely that a neighbor's dog was getting after a bird or a squirrel. There's always a possibility it was the little neighbor boy that we've caught before trying to peek in on Penelope when she's walking around the house with no top on. I guess, I can't really blame the little guy. None the less, we took him to his parents and told them what he did. I was embarrassed for the poor kid but Penelope insisted. Whatever made her feel better.

  I laugh out loud to myself and search the lawn for the paper. No paper to be found. I walk out to the driveway and look up and down the sidewalk. The paper boy must've gotten delayed. It happens. Before going back inside, I check around the yard and up the tree for the cat. He's nowhere in sight but he could always be in the back yard. He does like to hide and wait for careless birds, too distracted by bugs in the grass to notice him. It is quite entertaining watching him attempt to catch birds. I've yet to see him capture one but he has brought a couple mice into the kitchen before. We don't keep the doggie door open at night anymore.

  A breakfast fit for a king. A steaming hot shower with a beautiful woman. This is the good life. After loafing around for a bit, I go find my cell phone. I take it off of the charger on my nightstand by the bed. I power it on and do what any average American does in this day and age. I check my social media. SoNet is the biggest social networking site out at the moment. At first I was against it but then when I got one I saw the convenience in it. It helps you stay connected with people you don't see all the time, if ever. It isn't really a dating website, although many desperate individuals use it as that. I mainly use it to pass the time and shoot the shit with old friends. I log on and see messages from a few people congratulating me on making the casino deal. We haven't told anyone yet that we plan to get married. Our little secret for now. Besides, the second we post anything about it on a social network everyone, including people we don't even know, will be flooding our social media, congratulating us.

  With the noon hour creeping in, we decide to make the most of the rest of our day. I take her around town. We check out the main shopping plaza downtown, the museum, and even her favorite gelato place. All the places I promised her we could go when I had the money. It used to sound like such an empty promise. It was like telling a kid that one day he could have the five hundred dollar toy when you know, deep down, that there is little to no chance that was ever going to become a reality and can tell by the look on their face that they know it. That's what being broke does to you. It turns you into a sad liar or an optimistic pipe dreamer, or both. Necessities become all that there is and things like fun become something you aspire to have again one day. Sometimes I would break the bank so we could do fun things here and there. Hell, she deserved it. We eat her favorite frozen treat under a tree in the biggest park in town. She looks happy and it's about damned time. She smiles at me and tells me she's really glad to see how good I've been doing today. She doesn't need to elaborate, I know what she is talking about. Before I got the call, when the youthful hope had left me, things were rough. Just going through the motions of each day without knowing if things would ever get better. I don't know. It was worse than that. It's like one day I had figured out, on accident, that I would probably never be able to afford the life I wanted. I somehow knew that if things ever were to get better it wouldn't be by much. This was crippling to my motivation. I didn't want to eat, I performed poorly at work, and I was depressed. I would get lost in thought all the time. Trying to figure out a way out. Always trying to concoct some new scheme to break out of the bonds of poverty. I just wanted to know what it was like to live without stress again. Like when you were a kid and the only bills you knew were on the faces of ducks. Most of all, I wanted to be able to provide her with the life she deserved. I would get so lost in dark thoughts. Making myself miserable by chasing happiness. A lot of the time I would find myself coming back to reality mid conversation with her. I think she could tell I was lost, not hearing a word. I think she may have resented me for a while because of things like that. It probably didn't help that I was always so defeated, so demoralized that I could never enjoy the little things in life. I was always just trying to peer through the fog of the future, not realizing I was ruining the present. Like I said, once you realize that you can't lose someone, everything changes.

  A good day comes to a close as the sun slowly plummets towards the horizon. I cruise us home in her car. After I got paid, the first thing I did was take my car into the shop. I'm having every part that even slightly seems off replaced. It was nice too, for the first time in my life, throw down several grand and not care enough to remember exactly how much it was. Liberating, to say the least. We see the pet store up ahead and she insists that we stop. Why not? She doesn't know it but I'm planning on getting her a puppy for Christmas. She's been asking for one for years now. I think it's about time to start browsing at the selection. We pull in and find a parking spot with ease. The streets haven't been very busy today. A ton of car accidents though. I hate the drivers in this town, never looking where they're going.

  There's something calming and nostalgic about the pet store. Looking at everything from the creepy reptiles, fish, and spiders to the cute puppies, kitties, and birds brings out a happy feeling that reminds me of childhood. Watching Penelope get excited for each new critter we come across brings me a great deal of joy. Her smile is infectious. I can't help but interrupt something she's saying by kissing her. Her eyes light up like they haven't in awhile. I think everything is going to be okay. I take her hand and lead her to the puppies. I pay extra close attention to which one melts her heart the most. She seems partial to the little ones with the big bug eyes. I don't care. If it makes her that happy every time she sees it, it is money well spent. I grin secretively and suggest that we head home. She agrees. I think we are both ready to have dinner and relax anyway. Besides, we need to rest because tomorrow is a new day. Now, with my confidence restored, I'm going to make the best of things.

  A stranger, not looking, bumps into me. In all fairness, I wasn't paying the best of attention to where I was going either. He's a goofy guy, just a couple years younger than myself. He has a bright red baseball cap on backwards. We apologize to each other at the same time and laugh. He seems like a nice guy. Then he notices her. He recognizes her. I can tell from his, all of a sudden, ear to ear smile.

  "Penelope!" Yep. He knows her.

  It's cool. I've come a long way, too far to start being an insecure child, now. Things are better and no random guy is going to change that. That's my ring on her finger and my bed that we sleep in every night. So, what's there to worry about? For some stupid reason the tragic tale of Hector comes to mind. I automatically toss that poisonous thought aside. There is no room in my life for paranoia. I let them talk. I gather from the conversation that they know each other from a yoga class she took some time ago. I remember she was bugged that I wouldn't go with her. Seriously, what normal guy has time for that yoga stuff? Weird guys with backwards hats? Yeah, no thanks. They say goodbye and we head for the exit. I try to ignore that she didn't introduce us. You know, I bet Hector was a nice guy that did everything he could for his wife. Good old worthless paranoia. It doesn't do anything but ruin your night. We make our way to the car and head home. I find myself being oddly quiet. I know I'm doing it, but there's no small talk coming to mind. Everything in my mind are things I really don't want to get into. Not now. Not ever again. She tries to bring up some topics. I don't contribute much to the conversation. Just a laugh or a robotic "Oh, yeah?" It goes back to awkward silence and the short car ride feels like forever.