THE END - part three

I walked for a quite while. It was taking longer than I thought it would. The blister on my foot had popped, and was getting bigger with every step, when fifty feet in front of me, Barkley jumped out of a grove of aspen trees. He yapped at me and ran in a tight circle, like he was impatient and wanted me to hurry up. I picked up the pace of my hobbling, but before I got to him, he yapped one more time, and dashed back into the brush under the aspens. When I got to where he had disappeared, I saw neon lights sparkling through the tall, skinny trees, and I knew it was the convenience store. Relief. I was lost. Now I’m found.

Inside the Shortstop Convenience Store, thick, hot air was saturated with the off-gassing of the cheaply packaged crap they sold there. At the far end of the counter, a hotdog machine made a grinding noise as it rotisseried greasy, red meat bundles, producing a mighty stink in the process. Along the far wall, a bank of refrigerator compressors rattled and moaned. A small freezer full of ice cream bars hummed right in front of me. A fluorescent light overhead added a counter-melody. The furnace rumbled. People scurried up and down the aisles like it was a video game. Three people stood in line, waiting to pay for their purchases.

On the other side of the counter, an incredibly beautiful woman with strong classic features and hair like a fountain made change, doled out lottery tickets, and validated credit card purchases. She was too shimmery-golden to look at, so I headed down an aisle.

At the moment, I wasn’t sure what I was doing on the planet Earth, much less in the convenience store. I looked at the stuff on the shelves. The left side of the aisle I was standing in was kind of a mishmash. One end was dedicated to petroleum products. Gasoline additives, chainsaw oil, lubricants, and various things to dump into your car. That made sense, actually. This was a gas station as well as a convenience store.

Next to the petroleum products and right in front of me was a selection of phone cords. They all had different ends, were different colors, and different lengths. Next to the phone cords were things to put your phone in while you were driving, a few phone cases, and then at the far end of the aisle was a small selection of Pokémon cards.

The shelves on my right were completely devoted to various types of chips. A dizzying array: jalapeño, onion, corn, sea salt, vinegar, ruffled, gluten-free.

I was really impressed. I knew man could not live on bread alone, but I was starting to wonder if chips might do the trick.

That reminded me that I was here to get some bread. That was a lucky thing. I hadn’t thought about why I was in the store since I got here. Bread. It was good to have a mission again. Something to give my life meaning.

I wondered where the bread was. Usually, I bought my bread at the grocery store. I didn’t come to this store very often, actually. Gas was two cents a gallon more here than anywhere else. I didn’t smoke or drink anymore. I had to give up candy and sweets. My teeth weren’t good enough to eat jerky. There wasn’t a whole lot here for me. Right, now though, I did want some bread.

It wasn’t a great big store. I didn’t figure the bread would be hard to find. My plan was to head over the other way, but there was a woman in front of me. She was wearing shorts cut off right under her butt cheeks and a skinny tank top … basically half naked.

Different people react differently to half-naked people based on who they are and who the naked people are. Sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes it’s dreadful. Sometimes it’s almost overpowering. This time, it was annoying. I wanted to get my bread. I had to turn around and go the other way. The problem with that is, I had to go by the Perfect Woman who was working the cash register.

I kept my head down and went as fast as I could. I didn’t think she saw me, but she must have.

The next aisle was condiments. Ketchup and mustard. Hot sauces and soy sauces. Mayonnaise and salad dressings. Nothing you could eat. As I worked my way down the aisle, I got into the canned goods. At least you could actually eat most of those. It would’ve seemed reasonable to me to have found the bread there in that aisle, seeing as it was all food-related, but I didn’t. I turned the corner and worked my way through paper products and picnic supplies.

I was running out of aisles. The next one had medicine in it. I thought maybe I should pick up some aspirin while I was there. I’ve been having headaches ever since the doctor told us Betsy’s cancer was back.

I didn’t see the brand I was used to. I couldn’t really remember what the package looked like, but I know it was comforting to look at. Now I had to buy some kind of off-brand aspirin. I wanted to check and see if it was full strength and how many were in the package, but the writing was tiny. I closed one eye and squinted at it. The black squiggles swam around like tadpoles in a pond.

Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve always thought ponds were fascinating. Like a whole other world just below the water’s surface tension. Things that live there couldn’t live here. Every drop of water teemed with life. Animals and insects lived and died, like freight train collisions in a tiny tornado.

I watched the black squiggles swim. I wondered if they knew where to go. If they had somewhere to be. If anything made a difference to them. I could kill them all so easily. Would it matter? Would they even care?

My head started to swim around like the black squiggles, so I rested my forehead against a convenient shelf. That helped. I closed my eyes. It really was nice.

I smelled almonds.

“Sir?” Someone touched my shoulder. I don’t like to be touched. I let Betsy touch me, but I didn’t like it. Why can’t people be careful? I’m just standing here minding my own business, and someone bumps into me. People. I swear.

“Sir?” There was that voice again. “Are you okay?”

I opened my eyes, and I was looking down at the floor. That was all the view I needed, though, to see the feet … her feet. The feet were enough. Even in the white tennis shoes she was wearing, I could still tell they were perfect.

I rolled my head to one side so I could look at her to be sure she was talking to me.

She smiled.

One of the fluorescent lights overhead, which had been flickering, suddenly came on full force. I mean, I guess that’s what must’ve happened because everything in the room got brighter. I looked back at my feet real quick. Her face was too wonderful to look at. I was afraid I might get burned.

She put her hand on my shoulder! Right on my shoulder. She meant to do it.

I almost shrank away under the profound weight, but her hand held me up like it had a magnetic attraction.

“Can I help you?”

I nodded my head up and down a couple of inches and said, “Yes.” Then I made the mistake of glancing up at her face again. She smiled, even more wonderfully. I smiled back. Her smile became her whole face—her whole being. I fell into it.

“What are you looking for?”

What was I looking for? Where had my life gone? Why did Betsy die? Peace. Understanding. Time to go by. But I don’t have much time. Acceptance. Maybe that’s it, acceptance. Believing it’s okay and letting go.

She waited, calm as Buddha, so I said, “I don’t know what I’m looking for. I’ve never known. How did I get this far? This isn’t the way it was supposed to be. Why did they tell me to dream?”

The angel lady’s smile stayed just as serene, but she tilted her head and everything about her softened. She said, “Yeah, me too.”

That made me feel better, and I was able to look her in the face and not flinch. I didn’t burn up. I got kind of all fuzzy, though.

She said, “Maybe there’s something easier I can help you with. How about milk? Do you need some milk?”

“I need bread.”

“We can do that. It’s right over here. Come with me.”

I would’ve gone to Timbuktu with her, but the bread was only around the corner in the next aisle.

Sadly, the bread selection was miserable. Two types, both fluffy white. No wholegrain. I don’t know what I was expecting. I guess most people think bread is bread. People must eat this fake stuff. Otherwise, why would they sell it? Or maybe people eat it because it’s all they can buy here.

It kind of broke my heart, though. I wanted to have some toast with my bacon and eggs, and this fake crap wasn’t gonna cut it. One more disappointment in life.

“Is this all the bread you’ve got? You don’t have any real bread in the back or anything, do you?”

“This is as real as it gets, sweetheart.”

I sighed and sagged.

“Let me take you home,” she said.

Instinctively, I met her offer of kindness with refusal. That training ran deep in me like a coastal shelf.

“No. No, thank you. I can walk.”

“I just got off my shift and I’m going home. I’m sure you can walk, but let me drive you. I want to make sure you get home safely.”

She moved her arm off my shoulder and onto my forearm. I looked at her hand. It was unlined, dog-belly soft. The nails were honed to a tiny point and covered in pink polish. Her hand turned me, and we walked together.

I don’t know how long I was in the store, but it was night out now. She let go of my forearm, but I walked along with her anyway. A dirty brown Honda Civic sat all alone in the far back corner of the parking lot. We headed for it.

“My boss makes me park back here so I don’t inconvenience any of the customers. It’s supposed to be a convenience store.” She chuckled. “My name is Angela.”

“Yes,” I said. “It is,” we smiled, in complete and delighted understanding that her name should be Angela.

She prompted me, “What’s your name?”

I gave her question some thought and came up with the right answer, “Freddy.”

She stuck her hand out for me to shake. “Pleased to meet you, Freddy.”

Angela hopped in the car. I went around to the other side and opened the door, but I couldn’t get in yet. Angela was busy gathering up empty coffee cups, crumpled bags of chips, and candy bar wrappers. It was all debris from the products they sold at the convenience store. She pitched a couple of double handfuls into the backseat area, sat up, and smiled brightly. “Get in.”

The door clicked shut, and the overhead light faded away. Angela started the engine, which filled the car with a blue and green luminescence from the dashboard lights.

Minimalist symphonic music came out of the speakers. It was a little like the sound of two gas clouds colliding on an alien planet.

The atmosphere in the car began to change quickly. I was pretty stinky. The nervous adrenaline from the confrontation with my dad competed with the waves of sadness that kept pouring out of my heart and lungs.

It would’ve been toxic, but Angela had a glow I had never seen on a person before, and the glow wasn’t just energy in the form of light. She exuded chemicals in all directions as well. The honey, lady sweat, and almond essence that emanated from her overpowered and absorbed my putrid oils, changing them into something harmonious.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere you want.”

“You’re sweet, but I mean, where do you live?”

“Just up the hill to the right.”

“Okay. Up is good.”

We sat and idled for another minute. I don’t know why. I guess she wanted to warm up the engine. Anyway, the seat was comfortable, the music was relaxing, and Angela smelled like cookies. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back.

“Freddy,” she said, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. My head hurts, though. Did I buy those aspirin?”

“You have a big lump on top of your head. Let me take a look at it.”

I bent over, and she said, “Did you hit your head?”

“I got tackled. I might’ve hit it then.”

“Tackled?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“I’m not sure you are. Do you have anybody at home to take care of you?”

“Well, I did, but she died.”

“I’m sorry. When did she transition?”

Her eyes were huge, gallactic, full of endless depths, so I told her, “This morning.”

“This morning! Gracious. I’m so sorry.”

I searched among her zillion stars for our solar system. It had to be in there somewhere.

Her voice cut through.

“Listen, is there anywhere else I can take you. I don’t think you should be alone. Do you have any relatives or friends you could stay with tonight?”

I didn’t have any relatives left. None that wanted to hear from me anyway.

I did have friends, kind of. I used to have a lot of friends when I was younger. Maybe they were really just drinking buddies, but we did hang out together. They probably would’ve backed me up in a bar fight. Isn’t that what friends are for? And anyway, friends are just people you’re spending time with now. What happens when you stop spending time with them?

Of course, when I quit drinking twelve years ago, I quit spending time with my drinking buddies, and we sort of lost touch.

I gave up drinking because of Betsy.

One night, in a bar, I did some unacceptable things and got escorted out. I didn’t have to be psychic to figure out Betsy was pretty upset with me. She put up with a lot, but maybe this was the limit. I could see I had a choice to make. It was either red wine and vodka, or Betsy.

I lost my old friends, but she had lots of friends, and I started hanging out with them. Really nice people. I especially liked Charlie, but he dropped dead in a supermarket two years ago, and then Carol left and moved to Florida. Come to think of it, a lot of Betsy‘s friends moved, either went somewhere warm, or followed their grandchildren.

I could call Ted and Martha. They probably would let me stay at their house. Ted might not like it, though. I wouldn’t like it, that’s for sure. Why would I want to sleep in a strange bed? What are they gonna do for me? I don’t want to do a lot of small talk. I don’t want their sympathy. I’m alone. I might as well get good at it.

Angela was still looking at me, so I said, “I’m fine, really. Can you just take me home?”

She shifted in my direction and said, “You seem like a good man.”

I knew in my heart I was a terrible person, but I didn’t want to admit it to Angela. I wanted her to like me, so I told her part of the truth.

“I’ve tried to be good. I wanted to be good. I was a drunk, but I gave it up so she wouldn’t leave me. I don’t think I hurt too many people in my life.

A weight came down from the sky and rested on my shoulders. I bowed my head and put my palms to my forehead. “I don’t know why it’s so hard to be good. Everything I want is bad. That’s what they keep telling me. The things I crave all hurt my body. Alcohol, tobacco, drugs, being lazy, fatty foods, sugar, snacks, candy, and sunbathing. Whatever feels good is bad, and everything that tastes or feels bad is good. It’s a fucked up way to run a universe. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“No, no dear.” She touched my cheek. “You gave up alcohol, and I can tell from how you smell, but you gave up cigarettes. And you did it for love, too.”

“Love?”

“Yeah, love. You did it for Betsy. Because you loved her.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t lie to Angela. “No, I did it for myself because I didn’t want to lose Betsy.”

“But, you loved her.”

“There’s that word again. What does ‘love’ mean? Am I supposed to care more about her than I do about myself? I’ve just never felt that. I mean, she meant everything to me. She gave my world meaning. But I needed that meaning for me.”

Angela put her hands together in the prayer position and tilted her head. “Your brain works the way it has to. You’re just an animal. You have to preserve yourself. That doesn’t mean you can’t love someone else. Betsy loved you, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why did she love you? Why you?”

“I don’t know. She knew I wasn’t a good person. That I had all these flaws. Fat, lazy, easy to fool. She chose me, though. I could never have convinced her to pick me. She chose me on her own. Maybe because I was too dumb to lie to her, and I just kept telling her the truth.

“Betsy wouldn’t leave. Lord knows I tried to chase her away, but she wouldn’t leave. I know I hurt her badly, several times, but she wouldn’t leave. She kept forgiving me.”

Angela shook her head. “That’s not what your wife saw in you. She saw a kind man who was trying to get through life just like she was.”

After a minute, Angela brightened up. She punched me lightly on the bicep and said, “Betsy chose you, you idiot. That should be good enough for you to know you are valuable.”

She put the car in reverse. We backed out of the parking space and headed up the hill.

“Freddy,” she said, “I’m sure you’ve done a lot of the wrong things in your life, but I bet you’ve done more good things. I’ll bet those good things are still out there rippling through the universe, making it just a little better place.”

Those were comforting words, and I wanted to feel better, but I also felt like I was bearing my soul, and if I held back, it would be a cheat, a sin.

“There is something else. Something bad. I covered my eyes and swallowed. “I have a son.”

“A son! How can a son be bad?”

“I was a terrible father. I didn’t give him what I should have. I didn’t understand him. I was impatient. He hates me.”

Where is he now?

“I don’t know. I have a phone number.”

“Oh.”

“I’m supposed to call him and tell him Betsy died, but I don’t want to.”

“Hmm. Don’t you think maybe you should?”

“Oh, I know I should … I will.”

“When?”

“When? I don’t know. Soon. I was thinking maybe later.”

She took her phone out and handed it to me.

I bought Oscar his first cell phone over twenty years ago. He still had the same number. I dialed it. His phone rang a half dozen times and then went to voicemail.

When it was my turn, I choked down a sob and said, “Oscar? … Oscar, it’s Freddy … your father. I’m calling to tell you that, well, your mother made me promise. I would tell you when, when … oh, Oscar, your mother is gone. She died this morning. She had cancer. You knew that, didn’t you? Maybe you didn’t. Yeah, so now, she’s gone. I’m sorry I … I’m sorry I have to tell you this sad news. I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head a couple of times, and then I let all the sorrow out. “I’m sorry, I was a crappy father. I’m sorry for every time I did something stupid and every time I hurt you, and every time I didn’t give you all the love that you needed and deserved.

“I tried to, but I have a lot of problems. I’m fucked up. Life hasn’t been easy for me. You’re probably old enough now to understand that things don’t work out all the time … or even ever. The only thing that worked out for me my whole life was your mother ... and now she’s dead.

“Anyway, that’s what I called to tell you. It wasn’t my idea. Like I said, Betsy made me promise.”

I looked out the window and up at the stars in the night sky, but they provided no further inspiration.

My throat was tight like a fist was around it. I struggled to swallow, then said, “Well, goodbye, I guess. Call me sometime. I … I … well … goodbye.”

I handed the phone back to Angela and said, “Well, I fucked that up. He’ll never talk to me again. He’s gone. Everyone is gone. Everything is gone. Nothing lasts. Nothing matters.”

“That’s not true. Lots of things matter. Everything matters. You matter to me.”

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

We rode on in silence. When we got to the top of the hill, I said, “Turn here.”

“That’s it,” I said. “That one right there.” I pointed at the small brick bungalow.

“Is that your dog?”

Barkley darted out of the bushes and up to the front door, where he began clawing frantically and howling.

I jumped out of the car like I was a kid, and ran to him, yelling, “Barkley, Barkley.”

He ignored me and ripped splinters from the door. His head was back, and he howled as he clawed.

I opened the door for him, and black smoke started to pour out. Barkley raced inside.

Most of my life, I’ve just reacted to the next thing in front of me. I’ve tried to plan and figure things out in advance that I was no good at it. As soon as you get into something, everything is different. We don’t have all the facts. Things change. So plan on all you want to, but be prepared to throw it all out the window and react to reality.

Thick black smoke rolled around in the living room, quivering like it was trying to decide if it would explode or not. Smoke was usually not a good thing. It might be dangerous in there. The only thing I really valued in the house was Betsy’s body, and that was probably going to get cremated in a matter of hours anyway. Maybe the fire was a gift from heaven.

But, Barkley was in there. Or was he? It couldn’t really be Barkley. That was dumb to even think about.

I looked at the shredded wood of the front door. Something was in the bedroom. Whatever it was, it was something. Maybe something good. Maybe the end of all this. Why did I want to go on living anyway? What was I expecting? What I was going to get was an accelerating spiral into loss. Loss of freedom, function, possibility, and finally of life. Why drag it out?

I could go in and lie down with Betsy and put her arms around me one last time, and it would all be over in a minute or two. Maybe the smoke would quietly ease me into sleep.

I took a step across the threshold.

I could hear Barkley howling in the bedroom.

The smoke was thick, so I got down close to the floor and worked my way over to Betsy.

She hadn’t changed.

I thought about climbing into bed with her, but I had forgotten it was a very narrow hospital bed with railings on the sides. I would have to scoot her over and jam her body against one of the railings in order to climb in there with her. That didn’t seem like the right thing to do, so I gathered up her hands in mine one last time.

A crackling noise coming from the kitchen got louder.

My knees wobbled. It took so much energy to stand, and I had none, so I sat down in the chair with her hands nesting in mine, and it felt like home … like this was where I belonged.

It wasn’t easy to breathe. I coughed a couple of times. I was getting sleepy, nodding off. Maybe I’d just take a short nap right here with Betsy.

I closed my eyes, but it wasn’t dark like it was supposed to be. Instead, my eyelids were bright orange, so I opened them. Blazing flames leapt out of the kitchen door. I started to wonder when Betsy’s hair would catch on fire. My thin skin was getting crispy, like a chicken’s. Sweat started rolling down from my armpits and forehead. I was gonna need another shower.

Barkley came running by me and bumped into my shins before blasting through the front door, still howling.

I tracked him. When he got to the doorway, a glow ignited in the opening. Mostly, it was yellow with dancing purple edges that pulsed like the mouth of an octopus, drawing me into its universe. My eyeballs were dry and baking, but I couldn’t blink.

The glow intensified, and became radiant, star-like. A ball of incandescence.

And in the center of it … Angela materialized, with Barkley clutched in her arms.

They smiled. Their aura softened and throbbed.

Angela reached for me, and Barley extended a paw.

A tunnel opened between us.

I put my hands together in front of me with my palms up, like I had something of value to offer. It felt like the right thing to do.

We all leaned toward each other and began losing our edges, and floating and swirling into one.

The fire wasn’t hot anymore.

THE END