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Smit and Williams

Bernard Otto

    When they met four decades ago they hated each other, but it alternated between mutual cooperation to perform an assignment to intimidating stares in the locker-room daring one another to strike first. A line they dare not cross if they wanted their good government jobs. Their rivalry was no secret and opened doors for rumor and instigators. Was it love? No, neither was gay; it was the deadliest mixture of all, envy and jealousy, the cocktail that destroyed big and small, everything. In their interest the two enemies transferred to different departments and later regions of the city.
    Females loved Aaron Williams, they put in simple terms; he was cute, very cute and Bart Smit let him know he objected. Williams stood 6'3", thin with a muscular physique, smooth skin with piercing intellectual eyes. He didn’t speak too often, but when he did his points on any subject, especially after a few drinks, people paid attention. Bart Smit was the opposite, medium height, wide build with a developed beer belly. His opinionated personality couldn’t tolerate criticism. He was a current event and sports guy, unlike Williams who didn’t understand the depth of football and basketball but loved them anyway. Smit’s high self esteem put him the self made intellectual elite amongst his co-workers. He and the other know-it-all’s said Williams was an idiot who didn’t bed as many females as he could. But, their sexual prowess couldn’t keep a few of them their jobs once cocaine entered their lives in the early 80’s. He adjusted the height of his bed. When they wheeled him in them the slim attractive nurse with the heavy chest jokingly told Aaron, “Mr. Williams, you keep Mr. Smit good company when he wakes or I’m going to kick you out of here and put you back to work. Ok?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t know why he asked the guys first name, but when she said Bart he couldn’t believe it. After all these years.
    What will Smit think when he finds Williams next to him?
    The nurse pulled the curtain around him and hooked up the equipment. Too bad he couldn’t stand over him when he awakens, but then he might not recognize him. A re-introduction would be appropriate. “Hello, Mr. Smit, remember me, Aaron Williams?” That might kill him, but whatever ailed Smit was terminal. That much he was sure of, but he didn’t like the fact after a routine appendectomy he was wheeled into this part of the hospice section. Overcrowding or what? But, he loved the virtual reality rooms with the blank white walls that came to life with 3D TV and holographic projections. Soon his doctor would make his rounds; he closed his eyes.
    “Mr. Williams, how are you feeling?” A male voice inquired and holds open his eye and inspected his pupils then he lifted his gown and inspected his lower belly area.
    “I’m fine, Dr. Wells and you?”
    “Good to see you. The surgery went well and you’ll back at work soon. You gave us a scare for a while there. You had grabbed your lower abdomen, bent over and hit your head on a patient bed rail and knocked yourself out.”
    “Well, what am I doing in the hospice section?” Williams tried to sit up, but decided to let the bed do the work.
    “For closer observation for concussion and ICU’s full, you should be out soon. OK, see you.” The awkward shaped surgeon with the shoulder length blond hair left the room. Behind the drawn curtain Williams heard a weak voice.
    “Excuse me sir, you sound familiar.”
    “I sound familiar because it’s me, Aaron Williams...Bart Smit.” His old nemesis coughed hard and long. “Boy that sounds like it hurts, Smit.” Silence. Whatever was killing Smit he figured it had gotten worse. “Cat got your tongue, Smit?”
    “No, no cat got my tongue you son of a bitch. I still can’t stand you. What are you doing in my room? Oh, that’s right...hospice like me.” Smit sighed hard. “What did I do to be in the same room with you?”
    “You sound weak, take it easy, Smit. Don’t let all that hate shorten what little life you have left.” Williams giggled.
    “What’s funny?”
    Williams eased out of bed and adjusted his IV pole and snatched back the curtain. “Your face and forty years later you still think that broken nose, pitted face is pretty.”
    “Whatever I think you’re in here with me, pretty boy.”
    “Thanks for the compliment. Let me take a guess, Smit. It’s your pancreas?”
    “None of your business, asshole. I’m glad you’re here, thief.”
    “I wasn’t a thief, you self righteous prick.” Williams hissed in Smit’s swollen cratered face. “People like you trying to get in their brownie points for a few more dollars and easier positions.” Williams scanned the machines monitoring Smit. “Looks like all that athletic stuff you bragged about didn’t work now did it?” His BP monitor beeped while the numbers skyrocketed.
    “Relax.” He reached to touch him.
    “Don’t touch me!”
    Williams stepped back and shook his head. He didn’t want the staff to hear him shout and blame him for his earlier demise. Smit was half the size he remembered, but his same hateful and envious air remained. Williams left the curtain back and returned to his bed. “Nighty, nighty, Smit, sleep tighty.” He said in a child like voice.
    “Go to hell.”
    “Can’t do that, Smit, but I will get some sleep.”
    *
    Williams’s eyes lid parted when he was nudged several times. “Wake up, Aaron, you’re snoring again.” Somebody whispered in his ear.
    “OK. Is that you, Mary?”
    “Yeah, it’s me, we miss you, when you coming back to work? You scared us for a minute when you hit your head.”
    He turned toward his Philippine coworker. “Shh, don’t let him hear you.”
    “OK, go back to sleep. I just popped in to say hello and stop snoring. Bye.” She kissed him on the cheek and left.
    Several doctors and nurses came in, smiled and pulled the curtain around Smit. They questioned him about this and that. Williams closed his eyes and ignored them. The medical team left with solemn expressions. It was obvious a few were students and not accustomed to terminal patients. “I know you were listening, which I don’t give a shit, but it’ll be interesting to see who leaves first, me or you, pretty boy or used to be.” Smit snickered.
    “Good, you have a sense of humor, Smit.”
    “Answer something for me. How did you make it after all these years drinking so much?”
    “Duh...you’ll figure it out, smart guy.” Williams got out of bed and snatched the curtain. “I know your diminished mental capacity might not understand this, but I still retired and I assume so did you.”
    “OK, smart guy but since we’re here I remember you thought you were high and mighty going to school.” Smit giggled then coughed like mad. “You thought you could qualify to go to the mechanic section, but not while I was around, pretty boy.”
    “Oh, really.” Williams recalled the changes he went through to pass that test. He’d taken several work provided correspondence courses and his other strategy was simple. Take the test to find out what’s on it. On test day bring all his reference material and when he finished run back to the car and mark off the sections that were on the test. After two tries he had everything he needed; he passed with a decent score, but took it again and scored higher. When there was an opening he told his family the job was in the bag and they went for a premature celebration. The supervisor interviewed him and declined him the position, “I heard you are trouble, Mr. Williams.” He said. He was devastated, dock working wasn’t for him, but he did have an attendance problem. But, he did try to negotiate with the guy, but he smiled and still said, “No way.” He felt like a fool when he told his family. Williams went in another direction in the company and retired with a livable pension. That unfortunate incident happened over twenty years ago. Now that half dead asshole mentions it. He looked down at the sickly Smit and exhaled slowly. He wanted to punch him. “You’re a dirty guy, Smit. For a second I wanted to cut your life line—”
    “Why? You’re going to die too. Ha, ha, I heard you got fired.”
    Williams couldn’t believe the hate that flowed from him. He’d heard about people diagnosed with terminal illnesses, but this idiot took the cake. “You heard wrong. I retired at 55 and for the past ten years things have been fine. How’s Shirley? You two got married right?” Smit shot Williams a look that would scare a dead man. “Well, what happened to her?”
    “Go to hell, she deceased and don’t mention her again!” Smit spat the words at him and coughed. “They ain’t that fine you in here with me.” Again pain shot through him and tears ran down his cheeks. His skinny fingers searched around for the bed controls and he rose up. “I always thought you were stupid.”
    “Nurse Williams, what are doing out of bed?” A scratchy male voice asked. The short and wide guy with the big eyes shook hands with Aaron. “I see you’re in the state of the art room. I came to say hurry back we need you.”
    “Hey Marcus, how are you? You could wish me a speedy recovery.”
    “We love you, but minor surgery doesn’t take several days, Aaron.” His coworker laughed. “I’m not mad at you, but hurry back.” He waved his hand in the air as he walked out the door.
    “Nurse Williams? You ain’t no nurse, you idiot. You have a sex change too? You ain’t smart enough.”
    “Well, I hate to shock you and I’m trying to remain calm and not choke your stupid ass, but when they denied me the mechanic job I was still studying pre-med. I never gave up; I got my degree in nursing after I retired since I was way too old to become a doctor. But, I still miss using my hands. I got pretty good at fixing cars before they turn them into four wheel computers. I got a chance to buy and rebuild a ’69 Barracuda like the one you had, remember? I preferred the Chargers myself.” Williams reached to hold his hand.
    “Don’t touch me!” Smit finally got that shout past his parched lips.
    “I’m still going to pray for you. Anyway, I knew a few people when I graduated and got hired here. I’m old to be a RN, but it’s fulfilling.”
    “But, you still in here with me no matter how much you brag, asshole.”
    “I’m not terminal...Bart Smit. I see your eyes got big. It’s true; all I had was a routine appendectomy. I’m in here because of the room’s TV system. Sometimes me and others eat lunch in one if their vacant. I’ll ask my supervisor to transfer me to this part of the hospital so I can help monitor your medication. Heaven forbid you hit the button and the dose of morphine doesn’t do the trick. How will you like that, Bart? Why so quiet? You hate me so much, but I forgive what you did to me, but that’s today.” Williams winked. “We’re going to be the best of friends. Oh, while you were napping they discharged me. I’ll be leaving soon...Bart.” Williams smiled. “Is that a tear trickling down your chin? See you soon.”

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