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To come

Liam Spencer

    There she was again. Bright blond, bright smile. Sexual. Her hips would sway just right, invitingly. She stood over him like an angel, gently waking him.
    “Mr. Mercer. Liam. Liam?”
    Catching sight of her gorgeousness, his eyes opened wide, taking her all in. Beautiful.
    “Yeah...” He gasped.
    “It’s that time again.”
    “Oh ok, ok.”
    Her smile caught his eyes before she frowned.
    “Are you ok Liam? You seem less flirty than usual. It’s not like you.”
    “Yeah, I’m ok. Just more tired than usual, I think. I’ll be ok.”
    “If you say so.”
    She leaned him almost on his side and rubbed some sort of oil on his back and shoulders. His bedsores screamed even as he didn’t. It just felt so good to have some human touch to his body.
    She refilled the plastic bags of his IV as he looked away. He hated blood and vessels, etc. She knew it.
    “All done, Liam, all done.”
    “Thank you.”
    “You want some water? I can smuggle you some.”
    “Yes, that’d be great, along with a beer chaser.” He laughed.
    “I can’t do the beer, but I can sneak you water.” She glowed.
    She lifted him up just enough to pour a little water into his mouth. He swallowed as if it were the greatest thing ever. Small tears slowly rolled from the eyes of his dehydrated, aged body. He had been too dry to cry real tears.
    Her eyes well up as she gently caressed his tears away, then caressed slowly down the side of his face. Her mere touch electrified him, and she knew it.
    “If only I were sixty years younger, I’d sweep you off your feet, baby.”
    Her eyes glowed beautifully.
    “I bet you would, Liam.”
    Just like that, she was gone. It reminded him of being single.

    The bland walls surrounded his spirit as the bed supported his exhausted body. The TV was as mind numbing as ever, supporting the ignorant status quo of serfdom. He turned away from it to stare out of the window at the last remaining light of sunset before the darknesses of the beginning night.
    Out there. Out there people full of life are beginning yet another adventure. There will be drinks and laughs, loves and lusts, disappointments and fights. Moneys will be spent. Women will flaunt.
    Yet there he was, stuck. Ninety eight, and near the end. Tears gently rolled down his cheeks as he realized he would likely never walk out the hospital doors ever again, which was the one thing he wanted.
    He was never one to be tied down. He had railed against all restrictions, real and imagined. He had delighted in adventure. Even bad times were better than the usual, boring pretentious bullshit most people bury themselves in.
    He found himself wondering if it might be better to just give up for the first time in his life, and face realities. At ninety eight, he surely had run into something he could not bounce back from. He was simply too old and depleted now. Every other setback had him roaring back, in time. There might not be enough left in him this time.
    Still he imagined the day when he would be released, cured from his many ailments, and walk right out the door again. The sunshine of mid March would warm him as the cold wind chilled him. He imagined he was living at his condo again instead of the damn old folks home. He wondered what the old condo looked like now. It had been five years since he had been there.

    It began. The machine that helped him breathe seemed to be sucking the air from him. His body tensed and began shaking. He managed to calm himself and force breath into his body. A slight cold sweat broke out. All his focus was on staying calm and breathing. In two seconds. Out two seconds. Machines beeped the alarm.
    There were two giant men standing over him, in all white, glowing.
    “Ok Liam. It’s time. Actually we’ve given you more time than we should have. It’s time to go home.”
    “No.” Was all he could muster.
    “We’re here to take you...”
    The first one reached for him. From somewhere, Liam’s fist met him right in the mouth, hard. He couldn’t believe he had it in him. The angel stumbled backward. The two stared at each other for a moment.
    “Sorry, but I’m not going. God himself needs to come for me, and even then, it won’t be easy.”
    “Ok, but we’ll be back.”

    The doctor stood over him. The look of concern on his face shook Liam to his core. He wanted to make sure it wasn’t the doctor he had hit, but he couldn’t speak. The doctor turned to the blond nurse. She was teary eyed, her face flush.
    “That’s all we can do. He needs rest.”

    Those were haunting words. Liam remembered hearing doctors say that about his wife as she lay there in the same hospital some ten years ago. He remembered sitting there with her, holding her hand for those long nights, looking at her aged, beautiful face, believing that somehow she would be alright. She wouldn’t be.
    He had found himself grateful that he had been there for her as her story ended. Her last breaths seemed to say she knew he was there. He remembered going home afterward, and bringing some clothes from their bedroom into the living room so their bedroom wouldn’t be disturbed ever again. He slept on the couch for the rest of the time he lived in their condo, so as to never disturb the bed they had shared on that last night together.
    He thought back to that last night. He smiled. They had shared drinks and laughs together as they always had, sitting there on the couch holding each other. He had helped her into bed that night, and held her tight before the time that 911 had to be called. How even the last moments holding each other were magical.

    It happened again. The machines seemed to turn on him, fighting his existence. He again calmed himself and forced breath into his body. The beeping alarms went off.

    “So, I had to come for you after all. I thought I might have to. Perhaps I gave you too much strength.”
    “I’m still not going. Sorry for your trouble.”
    “It’s time. Your time is long past. You’ve held on too long already. People are waiting for you.”
    “Well, unless I am mistaken, I have forever up there, where ever “there” is. I have so little time here, so I’m not giving up.”
    “There’s truth to that, but it is beyond time. I’m going to have to take you now.”
    “I see there’s not much choice in the matter, but at least let me say goodbye to the places I’ve known. At least that.”
    “Ok. I’ll allow you one day. Just one. But not in your body. There’s nothing left of it. You’ve used it all up.”

    He saw the nurse’s glorious behind as she leaned over a bed. What a scene she was. Damn.
    Wait a minute, he thought. How is this possible? Chills ran up his spine. He walked over to her and looked at her face. Tears rolled off her cheeks and dripped onto the body that lay in the bed. Her fingertips caressed the sunken face that he couldn’t recognize.
    The doctor seemed to tear up too. The two of them held each other in a long embrace.
    “This is what happens when someone holds on too long. He was one tough man, but all it brought was suffering. Mr. Mercer is better off now.”
    Shock ran through him. That was his body! Ninety eight and a half. Wasted away to such a pitiful sight. Tears roared from him. All he had control over was gone now.
    The doctor and nurse exited, still teary eyed. He stood there looked at himself in shock. How did he allow things to get this bad? That poor body had given it’s all, yet he pushed it further than it ever should have gone.
    It was his usual though, and what had worked for so many decades. Sometimes it had been the only way.
    Shortly, two men arrived with a cart. They picked up the body, put it on the cart, and wheeled it away. He followed it down the empty hallway, the wheels echoing through the four AM silence. Lost souls stared at him as he walked with them.
    They went through a double door. He stopped. He always hated blood, etc. He waved goodbye to the body.

    How to find a way out of the damn hospital? It had been too damn long. Shit. One day, and time is flying as usual.
    It felt so damn good to stand up! Ah... out of that bed, at last! He would walk out of that hospital after all.
    Finally, there was the exit. Fresh air! Oh yeah. The refreshing chill hit him as he stood there, arms in the air, breathing it all in deeply. It felt like he had once again beaten the odds. He savored victory, grinning broadly, as usual for him. He felt so alive.
    There was the night shift waiting for the bus home. Everyone was exhausted, life drained from their faces, and needing a drink or ten. It brought back memories.
    The bus rolled up. It occurred to him that he didn’t have fare. No one could see him anyway, so it’d be a free ride. As he went to step onto the bus, his foot went right through the step. The bus rolled off, right through him.
    “Fuck! How do I get around?”
    He thought of the beach for the sunrise, even as it was the opposite direction of the water. Suddenly, he was there.
    “Wow! If only I had this shit when I was alive.”
    When? The realizations set in. it was depressing.

    The sun rose over the hills as the ice cold water invigorated his calves. The waves rolled as they always do. The smells of the ocean waters went deep inside him. The sun rose as the tide rolled in. Waves in the distance inspired him as always. The water deepened as dramatically as he remembered. His smile ached deeper than he had ever felt.
    There was a cold beer in hand. He sipped mightily and exhaled a satisfaction. Life was so damn good.

    He visited his old work place. The annex was bigger now. Newbies scurried and cussed just as he once had. It was now their chance at a decent career. He grinned as he remembered all the panics. Everyone on earth he had known was gone, but he recognized so many stories. If only to be able to write them now.
    He stood where he used to take his breaks, and remembered the good old days. He was still young then, mostly. If only he had known then what he knew now.
    It was there that he had gotten the email about his publishing deal that began his real career. It was a major deal to him, but only to him. It didn’t pay enough to quit his day job at that time, but it was his start.

    He thought to his condo from years ago, remembering his last night there. He had arranged for beer and wine to be delivered a few days in advance, and spent the last few days there sipping beer and wine, barbequing, listening to jazz, and reliving memories. There were pretend conversations with his wife, as though she were still there. He even danced “with her” on his last night, imagining her laughter as he had loved it.
    The morning they came to get him, he had insisted on finishing his very last glass of wine while the movers took everything. He only made sure to be gone before they touched the bedroom that he had preserved since her passing.

    He was suddenly there, in front of the building. His eyes gleamed as he looked up at the large building. It felt like the day he had signed the mortgage papers and got the keys. It was a huge accomplishment for him, and would be his home for over fifty years.
    He had no way of getting in the building until a young couple scurried out of the building. He rushed in the door. The lobby was different, with gadgets and talking machines. Even the elevators talked. Why?
    There it was. Number eight. His lucky number. His hand caressed the metal number as his eyes welled. He reached out to the lock recalling when he first opened that door after signing the papers.
    To his shock, the lock turned and the door opened. He went in and stood in awe. The condo was exactly the way it was when he first set eyes on it, when it belonged to him. He rushed inside and looked all around the empty place, his heart racing. Oh, the times he’ll have in the place!
    He caught his reflection in the mirror. He was forty one again!
    His furniture was there now, along with his barbeque and cooler of beer on the patio. Jazz played inside as smoke gently rolled off the charcoal. He sat down and had a beer, his aching feet up. He somehow knew magic was on it’s way.

    It was a cold night. The fireplace spewed heat as it crackled. Jazz played on the laptop. The kitchen was alive with laughter and smells of food.
    There she was. His eventual wife, fending off his advances with giggles and broad smiles. Wine poured and downed only to be refilled. Theirs was the liveliest place in the city. Fuck the gloom and doom of cloudy dreary days. Things are what is made of them.
    They danced and kissed. Dinner scarfed quickly. More wine livened things up. Dancing and romancing. Their faces hurt from smiling.
    He saw them through the years and even decades. Slow lines developed on their faces. Health issues. Pain. Pleasures. Cuddlings. Arguments. Make up sex. Making love. Getting old. Staying young.

    He saw the ambulance people arrive on that night. Their last. He saw himself insist on going with her.
    He saw himself walk in the door after she died, his head down. His face drawn. He came out of their bedroom with a heap of his clothing and sat it on the floor before bursting into tears. He saw himself get the glass of wine she last sipped from last and sip from it himself, making sure to put his lips right where hers had been. He then put it back beside their bed, then close that door for the last time.

    He saw himself on so many occasions having pretend conversations with her while sipping this or that after dinners. He saw his last night there.

    The door opened. In came a young couple. They were laughing and carrying groceries. The furniture changed. It was their place now.
    The guy poured them both wine while she unpacked the groceries. She scolded him playfully that he didn’t know where anything went. He sat his wine down and went to the bathroom. Liam chugged his wine.
    The guy came back and looked at her suspiciously. He poured another glass, then sat it down to make a playful pass, just as Liam would have done. Liam chugged his glass again.
    “I KNOW I poured another glass!”
    The couple looked around with a bit of wonder.

    Liam walked out the door for the last time. He paused to touch the metallic number eight one last time, and let out a sigh.

    He stood outside his old neighborhood, marveling at the changes. It was far different than in his days. It saddened him. One can never really go back, I guess.
    It slowly dawned on him that everyone he had known was already gone. He was all but gone too. The world he had known was gone. What was there left to say good bye to other than memories? Those, he thought, might be remembered after all this was done.

    He went back to the beach. Carkeek. The sunset began as he stood in the water sipping wine. It turned red as the tide again began rolling in. As the sun set further, purple began to dominate. Beautiful.
    It reminded him of her. She was once the Her. Samantha. They had never really said goodbye. She would have loved this sunset.
    He wondered if she was still alive. Somehow he knew she was. She had always lived healthier than most anyway, so he wasn’t surprised. He looked up at the sky to ask for understanding. He seemed to receive it.

    When he saw the house in front of him, he knew it was hers. He remembered her tastes. He grinned broadly. How dare he go in though? It had been more than fifty years..

    She had read of his passing, and was surprised he had lived such a long life. He hadn’t exactly lead the healthiest of existences. She smiled slightly as she remembered their times together. He had been a wild one back in the day. They had shared such great times together.
    She got up and went to her bookshelf. There it was, after all these years; a first edition, pre-published copy of his first novel. It was signed, thanking her for such amazing times. She grinned through some tears as she remembered that she was in this novel.
    She poured a glass of decent red wine and gently caressed his scribblings before beginning to read.

    He paused at her front door. Fifty years. Fifty. She was ninety eight too, soon to be ninety nine. Would she even remember him? Fifty years is so long. So much had happened since they spoke.
    This was his only chance though. There would be no more chances. One day. Just one. It seemed cruel somehow, but he was grateful to have it. It’s now or never. He slowly went in.

    There she was, sitting on her couch, still Beautiful. She was older, but still retained her beauty, as well as her grin. She was reading, just as he had expected. He went closer, beaming in memory, thankful to have the chance to say goodbye, even as he had no idea how to.
    He got close enough to see that she was reading his first novel! She remembered!

    He sat down beside her for the first time in over five decades. He didn’t know what to do or say, if anything. She was still so beautiful. So many memories flooded back. He felt the need for a drink. He downed her wine.
    She broke from reading and put the glass to her lips. Nothing. She poured another glass and sipped before sitting it down. He quickly downed it while he wondered whether or how to let his presence be known.

    She let out a soft chuckle from memory and went to take another sip of wine. The glass was empty. She looked around for a moment.
    “Liam, is that you?”
    His heart dropped. If he showed himself somehow, would it give her a heart attack? What should he do?
    “Liam, damn it, if it is you then show yourself. Stop messing around!”
    Dilemmas.
    “Ok, I’m going to pour two glasses. If you’re here, you know which one is yours.”
    He quickly downed his glass. She sat staring at the glass for a moment.
    “Liam, it’s been so long. Just show yourself. I know you’re here now. It’s alright. Do that, ok.”

    He didn’t know how to, so he looked up for understanding. Suddenly he was there, in the flesh, kind of.
    They met in a tight embrace. Soft sobs broke through along with heavy sighing. Fifty years. Five decades. Golden memories.

    “Still so Beautiful after all these years.”
    Her eyes glistened.
    “You’ve done so well. Glad to see you’ve led such an amazing life, Samantha.”
    “You too, Liam. I never imagined....”
    “Well, we never really got to say goodbye. I’m just thrilled you remember me.”
    “How could I ever forget you, of all people?”

    On the evening went, well late into the night. Wine was sipped. Conversations and laughters had. Memories relived. Catching up done. Even a little dancing was in order, as he very slowly spun her around like he used to do.
    Some reliving was certainly in order, and reliving was done. Tears dried as soon as they began, as the glow of yesterdays beamed through it all.
    Finally they sat, his arm around her, as they rested and sipped their last wine together. It was fifty years in the making, yet the fit was as nice as it once had been.
    As she held her glass, he asked that they save the last bit of wine for a last cheer. She smiled dully, almost painfully.
    “How much time do you have?”
    “Not much now. Around three AM, if I remember right.”
    Tears welled up in each of them. Goodbyes are never easy, even after fifty years. It was time though. “What ifs” flooded to biblical levels. After so long, it was simply far too late.

    They sat there holding each other tightly, gently sobbing for the “if only,” and for the lives that had gone by. Memories flooded both of them about everything. Gratefully, they were able to relive a little past glory.
    Realizing the time, Liam was the first to grab the glasses. He handed hers to her. They raised their glasses as they eyed each other.
    “To us, and they great times we had.”
    Their glasses clinked together. The wine was gone in a moment.
    He slowly got up and lent a hand to help her do the same. They stood and held each other for quite a while, gently sobbing again.
    She slowly sat down, then glowed at him as he backed away.
    “Have a great night, Beautiful.”
    “You too.”

    He slowly went through the door and out on the sidewalk. The cold air seemed to bring him back to realities. He looked up at the clear night sky, thankful for the understanding and patience.

    Suddenly, he was back at the door to the condo, keys in hand. He could hear the jazz inside. His lunch box was in tow. He was in uniform.
    He opened the door. There she was, sipping wine and dancing as she had begun cooking dinner. A seductive grin glowed on her.
    “I thought I’d surprise you with dinner. Welcome home.”

    They sipped wine and danced and romanced, and forgot dinner, making love instead.

    It was then that the damn alarm clock rang out, and Liam rolled off the couch trying to shut it off. He laughed at himself, and cheerfully went to make coffee. The day might have its’ moments, but it is another day. He laughed and glowed, more grateful than ever for yet more memories with far more to come.

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