| General Fiction posted March 10, 2018 |
  |
How far can we fall to rise again?
Rust
by papa55mike
Sitting my coffee cup on the table for a second, I ask myself. "How did I get here?"
I guess working and living in this junkyard is a good characterization of my life, rusting away. Rust not only affects metal but fingers and hands also. It enters through the skin then into the corpuscles, infecting every blood cell that flows to the heart. Rust slowly filled my life with agony.
It completely ate away my marriage through lust and infidelity. Rust gobbled up my career by simply not caring. It stole my daughter and home with alcohol, drugs, and pure laziness. That's why I live in the back of this junkyard in a leaky mobile home from the nineteen-fifties. My wife and daughter are lucky, they live in a beautiful home in Calfornia with a man who adores them both.
"They're much better off without me," I shake my head. "Enough of this trip down nightmare lane, it's time to open this place up," I sit my coffee cup by a sink full of dishes. "If I want coffee tomorrow, I'll have to do some dishes."
I have to watch my step in the kitchen or I'll step through a couple of weak spots in the floor. I see the sun peeking in the door. The duct tape has fallen off the holes again. Twisting the doorknob sounds like someone's brakes grinding. A spooky house would love these squeaky hinges. After I stumble down the cinder block steps, I notice the weeds around the trailer are about six feet tall. "I need to bring the weedeater back here."
When I step around the first pile of junk, I nearly fall over three tricycles perfectly placed in the middle of the gravel road. The parts to fix them are laid beside each one of them.
"Who did this?" With a sneer, I toss each one of them back on the pile then head to the office.
Suddenly, a warm westerly breeze swirls around me. I hear a little girl laughing in the breeze. It's a familiar laugh, where have I heard it before?
~
The lonely night slowly takes control of my life again. To relieve the pain of this excruciating day, I went to Milan and got me a fifth of Jack Daniels after closing the shop. Now, I'm stumbling towards the trailer while smoking a fat joint. Stopping by the pile where the tricycles are, I start laughing then say, "I must be losing what's left of my mind." When I finally get the trailer, I fall in the door while protecting my whiskey and stash.
~
After stumbling out of the trailer with no coffee this morning, I head to the office with my head splitting in two! If I make it there without hurling, it will be a miracle. Taking two more steps, I suddenly stop. My head no longer hurts and my stomach turns over in a good way. I can't believe what I'm seeing, a perfect heart made of broken tricycles. There are fourteen in all with parts to fix them right beside each one.
The warm breeze swirls around me again and that laugh returns. It's directly behind me. When I turn around, a little girl is standing in front of me with long red hair and dark blue eyes. She's dressed in a hospital gown with a dazzling smile. I love her button nose and impish look. There seems to be a glow around her that I've never seen before.
I ask, "Who are you?"
"Don't you know me, daddy?"
"Katrina?"
"Yes, daddy, it's me."
"But how can you be here?"
"I don't know exactly." Kat reaches up and rubs the side of my face with a smile. "There are only two things I remember happening. First, I was riding in the backseat playing on my tablet then there was this horrible crashing noise. Mom was screaming then everything went blank. The next thing I remember is standing by a hospital bed. There's a little girl lying on the bed covered with bandages, wires and tubes are coming out of her and they're hooked up to machines that are beeping. Mom and Steve were talking to some doctors, they said she's on total...life...support and she's in something called a cuuma."
"Do you mean a coma, Kat?"
"Yeah, that's the word they used. I surprised that you remembered my nickname, daddy."
"I remember giving it to you when you were four. That was one of the last times I saw you. We were already divorced and Pat decided to move west. But that doesn't tell me how you got here?"
"I'm not sure. I just wanted to see you one more time then I was here. Why did you forget me, daddy?"
"I never forgot you, Kat. Your mom and I decided it was best if I had no contact at all. It was all my fault, I was a horrible father and husband. I felt you deserved better so I let you go. I remember your birthday is in two weeks."
"You're right, I'll be thirteen. Daddy, I remember mom asking you to change, why didn't you?"
"At the time, I felt I couldn't change."
"What about changing now, daddy?"
"Seeing you again, Kat, makes me see what I've been missing. I need to call your mom but I don't have her number."
"I can give it to you."
I slide my phone out of my back pocket. "Okay."
"It's 1-951-275-5959. Daddy, I can't stay much longer."
"Why?"
"I have to decide what to do. It's either go back to the dark place where it hurts so bad or towards a bright light that sings to me."
"Kat, do you remember the bed you were standing by with the little girl in bandages?"
"Yeah."
"Sweetie, that was you. I know it hurts in that place, but your life is there. I want to see you grow up and become a beautiful woman. For me, please go back."
Kat looks down for a moment then back to me. "Will you come see me, daddy?"
"I'll be there tomorrow if your mom will let me."
"Promise?"
"Scouts honor."
Kat walks over to me, puts her arms around my neck then kisses my cheek. "See you soon, daddy."
A tear falls from my eye when Kat disappears.
I pull out my phone and dial the number she gave me.
A female voice says, "Hello."
"Pat, this is Greg."
"Greg! How did you get this number?"
"You won't believe me, Kat gave it to me."
"Kat, gave it to you?"
"Look, Pat, I know there's been a terrible accident and she's on life support."
"What! How do you know that?"
"It will take too long to explain. I want to see her, Pat?"
"I guess, you better not be drunk when you get here."
"I promise, I will not be drunk or stoned."
"Okay. You're her father, you need to be here."
"Great, I'll call you tomorrow when I get to the airport." I slide my phone back in my pocket.
"I'm on my way, Kat, a changed man."
Sitting my coffee cup on the table for a second, I ask myself. "How did I get here?"
I guess working and living in this junkyard is a good characterization of my life, rusting away. Rust not only affects metal but fingers and hands also. It enters through the skin then into the corpuscles, infecting every blood cell that flows to the heart. Rust slowly filled my life with agony.
It completely ate away my marriage through lust and infidelity. Rust gobbled up my career by simply not caring. It stole my daughter and home with alcohol, drugs, and pure laziness. That's why I live in the back of this junkyard in a leaky mobile home from the nineteen-fifties. My wife and daughter are lucky, they live in a beautiful home in Calfornia with a man who adores them both.
"They're much better off without me," I shake my head. "Enough of this trip down nightmare lane, it's time to open this place up," I sit my coffee cup by a sink full of dishes. "If I want coffee tomorrow, I'll have to do some dishes."
I have to watch my step in the kitchen or I'll step through a couple of weak spots in the floor. I see the sun peeking in the door. The duct tape has fallen off the holes again. Twisting the doorknob sounds like someone's brakes grinding. A spooky house would love these squeaky hinges. After I stumble down the cinder block steps, I notice the weeds around the trailer are about six feet tall. "I need to bring the weedeater back here."
When I step around the first pile of junk, I nearly fall over three tricycles perfectly placed in the middle of the gravel road. The parts to fix them are laid beside each one of them.
"Who did this?" With a sneer, I toss each one of them back on the pile then head to the office.
Suddenly, a warm westerly breeze swirls around me. I hear a little girl laughing in the breeze. It's a familiar laugh, where have I heard it before?
~
The lonely night slowly takes control of my life again. To relieve the pain of this excruciating day, I went to Milan and got me a fifth of Jack Daniels after closing the shop. Now, I'm stumbling towards the trailer while smoking a fat joint. Stopping by the pile where the tricycles are, I start laughing then say, "I must be losing what's left of my mind." When I finally get the trailer, I fall in the door while protecting my whiskey and stash.
~
After stumbling out of the trailer with no coffee this morning, I head to the office with my head splitting in two! If I make it there without hurling, it will be a miracle. Taking two more steps, I suddenly stop. My head no longer hurts and my stomach turns over in a good way. I can't believe what I'm seeing, a perfect heart made of broken tricycles. There are fourteen in all with parts to fix them right beside each one.
The warm breeze swirls around me again and that laugh returns. It's directly behind me. When I turn around, a little girl is standing in front of me with long red hair and dark blue eyes. She's dressed in a hospital gown with a dazzling smile. I love her button nose and impish look. There seems to be a glow around her that I've never seen before.
I ask, "Who are you?"
"Don't you know me, daddy?"
"Katrina?"
"Yes, daddy, it's me."
"But how can you be here?"
"I don't know exactly." Kat reaches up and rubs the side of my face with a smile. "There are only two things I remember happening. First, I was riding in the backseat playing on my tablet then there was this horrible crashing noise. Mom was screaming then everything went blank. The next thing I remember is standing by a hospital bed. There's a little girl lying on the bed covered with bandages, wires and tubes are coming out of her and they're hooked up to machines that are beeping. Mom and Steve were talking to some doctors, they said she's on total...life...support and she's in something called a cuuma."
"Do you mean a coma, Kat?"
"Yeah, that's the word they used. I surprised that you remembered my nickname, daddy."
"I remember giving it to you when you were four. That was one of the last times I saw you. We were already divorced and Pat decided to move west. But that doesn't tell me how you got here?"
"I'm not sure. I just wanted to see you one more time then I was here. Why did you forget me, daddy?"
"I never forgot you, Kat. Your mom and I decided it was best if I had no contact at all. It was all my fault, I was a horrible father and husband. I felt you deserved better so I let you go. I remember your birthday is in two weeks."
"You're right, I'll be thirteen. Daddy, I remember mom asking you to change, why didn't you?"
"At the time, I felt I couldn't change."
"What about changing now, daddy?"
"Seeing you again, Kat, makes me see what I've been missing. I need to call your mom but I don't have her number."
"I can give it to you."
I slide my phone out of my back pocket. "Okay."
"It's 1-951-275-5959. Daddy, I can't stay much longer."
"Why?"
"I have to decide what to do. It's either go back to the dark place where it hurts so bad or towards a bright light that sings to me."
"Kat, do you remember the bed you were standing by with the little girl in bandages?"
"Yeah."
"Sweetie, that was you. I know it hurts in that place, but your life is there. I want to see you grow up and become a beautiful woman. For me, please go back."
Kat looks down for a moment then back to me. "Will you come see me, daddy?"
"I'll be there tomorrow if your mom will let me."
"Promise?"
"Scouts honor."
Kat walks over to me, puts her arms around my neck then kisses my cheek. "See you soon, daddy."
A tear falls from my eye when Kat disappears.
I pull out my phone and dial the number she gave me.
A female voice says, "Hello."
"Pat, this is Greg."
"Greg! How did you get this number?"
"You won't believe me, Kat gave it to me."
"Kat, gave it to you?"
"Look, Pat, I know there's been a terrible accident and she's on life support."
"What! How do you know that?"
"It will take too long to explain. I want to see her, Pat?"
"I guess, you better not be drunk when you get here."
"I promise, I will not be drunk or stoned."
"Okay. You're her father, you need to be here."
"Great, I'll call you tomorrow when I get to the airport." I slide my phone back in my pocket.
"I'm on my way, Kat, a changed man."
I guess working and living in this junkyard is a good characterization of my life, rusting away. Rust not only affects metal but fingers and hands also. It enters through the skin then into the corpuscles, infecting every blood cell that flows to the heart. Rust slowly filled my life with agony.
It completely ate away my marriage through lust and infidelity. Rust gobbled up my career by simply not caring. It stole my daughter and home with alcohol, drugs, and pure laziness. That's why I live in the back of this junkyard in a leaky mobile home from the nineteen-fifties. My wife and daughter are lucky, they live in a beautiful home in Calfornia with a man who adores them both.
"They're much better off without me," I shake my head. "Enough of this trip down nightmare lane, it's time to open this place up," I sit my coffee cup by a sink full of dishes. "If I want coffee tomorrow, I'll have to do some dishes."
I have to watch my step in the kitchen or I'll step through a couple of weak spots in the floor. I see the sun peeking in the door. The duct tape has fallen off the holes again. Twisting the doorknob sounds like someone's brakes grinding. A spooky house would love these squeaky hinges. After I stumble down the cinder block steps, I notice the weeds around the trailer are about six feet tall. "I need to bring the weedeater back here."
When I step around the first pile of junk, I nearly fall over three tricycles perfectly placed in the middle of the gravel road. The parts to fix them are laid beside each one of them.
"Who did this?" With a sneer, I toss each one of them back on the pile then head to the office.
Suddenly, a warm westerly breeze swirls around me. I hear a little girl laughing in the breeze. It's a familiar laugh, where have I heard it before?
~
The lonely night slowly takes control of my life again. To relieve the pain of this excruciating day, I went to Milan and got me a fifth of Jack Daniels after closing the shop. Now, I'm stumbling towards the trailer while smoking a fat joint. Stopping by the pile where the tricycles are, I start laughing then say, "I must be losing what's left of my mind." When I finally get the trailer, I fall in the door while protecting my whiskey and stash.
~
After stumbling out of the trailer with no coffee this morning, I head to the office with my head splitting in two! If I make it there without hurling, it will be a miracle. Taking two more steps, I suddenly stop. My head no longer hurts and my stomach turns over in a good way. I can't believe what I'm seeing, a perfect heart made of broken tricycles. There are fourteen in all with parts to fix them right beside each one.
The warm breeze swirls around me again and that laugh returns. It's directly behind me. When I turn around, a little girl is standing in front of me with long red hair and dark blue eyes. She's dressed in a hospital gown with a dazzling smile. I love her button nose and impish look. There seems to be a glow around her that I've never seen before.
I ask, "Who are you?"
"Don't you know me, daddy?"
"Katrina?"
"Yes, daddy, it's me."
"But how can you be here?"
"I don't know exactly." Kat reaches up and rubs the side of my face with a smile. "There are only two things I remember happening. First, I was riding in the backseat playing on my tablet then there was this horrible crashing noise. Mom was screaming then everything went blank. The next thing I remember is standing by a hospital bed. There's a little girl lying on the bed covered with bandages, wires and tubes are coming out of her and they're hooked up to machines that are beeping. Mom and Steve were talking to some doctors, they said she's on total...life...support and she's in something called a cuuma."
"Do you mean a coma, Kat?"
"Yeah, that's the word they used. I surprised that you remembered my nickname, daddy."
"I remember giving it to you when you were four. That was one of the last times I saw you. We were already divorced and Pat decided to move west. But that doesn't tell me how you got here?"
"I'm not sure. I just wanted to see you one more time then I was here. Why did you forget me, daddy?"
"I never forgot you, Kat. Your mom and I decided it was best if I had no contact at all. It was all my fault, I was a horrible father and husband. I felt you deserved better so I let you go. I remember your birthday is in two weeks."
"You're right, I'll be thirteen. Daddy, I remember mom asking you to change, why didn't you?"
"At the time, I felt I couldn't change."
"What about changing now, daddy?"
"Seeing you again, Kat, makes me see what I've been missing. I need to call your mom but I don't have her number."
"I can give it to you."
I slide my phone out of my back pocket. "Okay."
"It's 1-951-275-5959. Daddy, I can't stay much longer."
"Why?"
"I have to decide what to do. It's either go back to the dark place where it hurts so bad or towards a bright light that sings to me."
"Kat, do you remember the bed you were standing by with the little girl in bandages?"
"Yeah."
"Sweetie, that was you. I know it hurts in that place, but your life is there. I want to see you grow up and become a beautiful woman. For me, please go back."
Kat looks down for a moment then back to me. "Will you come see me, daddy?"
"I'll be there tomorrow if your mom will let me."
"Promise?"
"Scouts honor."
Kat walks over to me, puts her arms around my neck then kisses my cheek. "See you soon, daddy."
A tear falls from my eye when Kat disappears.
I pull out my phone and dial the number she gave me.
A female voice says, "Hello."
"Pat, this is Greg."
"Greg! How did you get this number?"
"You won't believe me, Kat gave it to me."
"Kat, gave it to you?"
"Look, Pat, I know there's been a terrible accident and she's on life support."
"What! How do you know that?"
"It will take too long to explain. I want to see her, Pat?"
"I guess, you better not be drunk when you get here."
"I promise, I will not be drunk or stoned."
"Okay. You're her father, you need to be here."
"Great, I'll call you tomorrow when I get to the airport." I slide my phone back in my pocket.
"I'm on my way, Kat, a changed man."
I wrote this one Thursday and even though I have six stories to post in front of it, I loved it so much I had to post it.
This story idea comes from Wanda and I talking about her long period of life support in a medically induced coma. She's talked a little about the Biblical Spirit Realm and her time there. I know people say this is all sedation-medication side effects, oxygen deprivation and the fact that she flat-lined to explain it away. Well, they can say all of that until they go through it.
Many thanks for reading!
Have a great day and God bless.
mike
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. This story idea comes from Wanda and I talking about her long period of life support in a medically induced coma. She's talked a little about the Biblical Spirit Realm and her time there. I know people say this is all sedation-medication side effects, oxygen deprivation and the fact that she flat-lined to explain it away. Well, they can say all of that until they go through it.
Many thanks for reading!
Have a great day and God bless.
mike
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