by S. P. West
As she chats away, my mind starts to wander with thoughts about how different my life is now compared to this time last year. I’m positive that his time next year it’ll change again. In fact, I’ll make sure of it. I’m not going to sit around pining for a man who threw my love away so easily. I could wallow in self-pity. I could but I’ll be damned if I’m going to give Alex and Rachel that power over me.
No.
Today is the start of my new life.
I don’t know where I’m headed, what I’ll do or even who I’ll meet, but for the first time in what seems like forever I’m excited.
Life can be an awfully big adventure and I tend to live it to the full.
ALEX
“FUUUCCCKKKKKKK.”
An angry cry rages out into the dark stillness of the night. The owner of the voice sounds like they are in their own special kind of hell.
I pity them.
That anguished yell sounded like a desperate cry for help. Someone is in trouble; someone is in pain. The burn in my throat tells me that that someone is me--the voice is mine. I hollered so loudly and with such fury that I think I’ve torn a vocal cord or something. Is that even possible?
The metallic taste of blood mingles with the contents of the cheap bottles of scotch I’ve been downing since earlier this morning. As each slug of the foul liquid passes the rawness in my windpipe, the burn turns to a raging inferno. I’m down to the last dregs of the second bottle. After this, there is no more.
I can’t even drive to the liquor store I passed on the way here. I threw my fucking car keys over the side of the cliff about an hour ago. Why? Because I felt like it.
Christ, I’m not even sure how I got here, I the left the car miles back…. I think.
I know that I stumbled blindly along the nature trail until I could hear the waves crashing on the cliff face – after that it’s all a bit fuzzy. I just know that I’ve got no more shit to take and nothing left to drink.
You’d think that I’d be able to blot out pain with the crap that’s pulsing around my body at the moment wouldn’t you? Nope, no such luck.
I’m surprised I’m not dead yet. I might as well be.
Far below me, the black waters of the Pacific Ocean churn calling out like a siren, beckoning me to jump into the freezing cold waters below. If I could move, I would. I’d climb that barrier and take one last leap into beautiful, beautiful oblivion.
Wouldn’t that be ironic? A man who danced with the devil and lost loses his life at the Devil’s slide.
My throat burns again as I release a loud bark of laughter at my own shitty joke. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, my legs and butt are numb as fuck. I don’t have the energy to drag my ass up but when I do get the use of my legs back - I think that I have a date with the rocks below. Until then, it’s just me and my good friend Mr. Tarmac here.
The only sound I can hear is that of the water. Above me is a never-ending tapestry of stars which reminds me of how alone we actually are.
Well, fuck this world and every fucker in it.
No one would miss me.
I doubt anyone would know I’ve gone. There’d be no witnesses, there’s no-one around. No one would care anyway.
Everyone I loved has abandoned me and I don’t blame them. I’ve been a shitty husband; shitty son; crap friend. Why wouldn’t they just leave me to it? It’s all my fault anyways, I pushed them away from me. Because I became arrogant, I thought I didn’t need them. I lost sight of who I am and who I need.
I lost Summer.
What have I done?
In the distance, I can hear the sound of a dog barking. Turning my head in the direction of the noise, I try to work out how long I have before the dog and its owner find me. I don’t have a clue what the time is although I think that it’s a bit fucking late to be walking a pooch here right now. Hopefully they’ll just walk on by and leave me be.
“You okay there?”
Or not.
How the hell did they get here so quick? Hell, I’m prettttyyyy wasted.
I close my eyes hoping to block out the stranger who’ve interrupting my pity party. If I close my eyes maybe they’ll disappear and leave me to slowly die in peace.
The clink of glass skittering across the hard surface of the ground thwarts my attempts at blocking out the nosy asshole. I open my eyes to find myself face to face with the biggest friggin’ dog I’ve ever seen. Its breath stinks and I suddenly want to vomit.
“Get your mutt away from me.” At least that’s what I think I say.
“What son?”
“I said get your mutt away from me.”
“You in trouble? You need some help?” The gruff voice is laced with compassion. He sounds like he’s smoked twenty a day for the last fifty years and I’m guessing he’s an old do-gooder type. Why the hell can’t he understand me?
I hear the scrape of the bottle being picked up from the ground. The old guy blows out a long breath, giving a low whistle. If I could see anything in the darkness - other than the fucking dog - I’d be willing to bet you that he’s shaking his head at me. “Holy moly you’ve drunk all that?”
“Two… twwooo bottlesss.” I try to hold my fingers up to show the stranger but now I can’t feel my hands. This is not going well.
“TWO BOTTLES?” His shout shatters the peaceful silence. “You take anything else son?” Nosy fucker. “Hells bells are you planning to kill yourself? Am I goin’ to have to call the cops or an ambulance? “
“Noooo Sir.”
“No, you haven’t taken anything else or no, you’re not gonna kill yourself?”
“The firrrsssstt one.” I lie. What in god’s name is wrong with my voice?
Instead of leaving me the hell alone and going on his merry way, Nosy Fucker decides now would be a good time to continue the very one-sided conversation we’re having. He groans as he sits down next to me.
“So, you gonna tell me why you’re here son?”
I don’t reply; the numbness in my eyelids has worn off now so I take the opportunity to stare straight ahead out to sea.
My final destination.
“So what is it?” Nosy Fucker persists, ignoring the fact that I’m giving him the cold-shoulder. “Money?”
I wish he’d just get lost.
“No, it’s not money is it?” I continue looking ahead as the stranger carries on guessing about my shitty life choices.
“It’s a woman…women.” Jackpot! Give the man a round of applause.
“What did ya do? Cheat on your wife? Run off with another woman? Now you’ve had second thoughts but you find yourself divorced so you head on up to Devil’s Slide as you think you ain’t got nothing left to live for. Now you’re tryin’ to decide if you wanna live or die.”
How the fuck? I turn my head to look at him so fast that it makes the world to spin and the nausea to return.
“Ahhh there it is.”
I open my mouth to answer him, to tell him fuck off but nothing comes out. Embarrassingly my eyes fill with tears and I start to sob. Big gut wrenching sobs.
How did he know?
“I was in your shoes once son,” he says with a sigh. “I did the same thing. Thought that grass was greener on the other side of the fence. Left my wife for another woman. Biggest mistake I ever made.” The stranger sniffs, wiping his nose on his sleeve. I realize that he’s crying too. “See, when I saw the truth in what I’d done, she was gone. Turned out my wife had cancer, she’d needed me and I’d abandoned her. She died a year after I left her. Didn’t tell me she was dyin’. Didn’t even ask me to come back. Just left me a note.” The strange old man wipes away a tear. “Ellen told me she loved me. Had from the day she met me, she said she hoped I was happy. She apologized to me for not telling me sooner. Ellen figured that I didn’t love her anymore and wouldn’t care anyway. She also said she was a whole lot angry with me. It was only when she found out that she was dyin’ that she decided to let the anger and hurt go.
; ‘Don’t wanna end up bitter on my deathbed.’” He lets out a small laugh, there’s no mirth to it. “Told me that I was free to marry now, that’d she’d told the kids to forgive me. I’ll never forget the last thing she put in that letter.
‘I had you for your best years, I loved you for them. I hope that you get your head out of that big ass of yours and wake up to what you lost; when you do, learn to forgive yourself.
I know you don’t love me Joe. I love you, though and I wanted to tell you that one last time.’” He takes a deep shuddering breath, “bout near killed me reading that. Sent me in a downward spiral, hitting rock bottom. I figured out too late that Ellen was the love of my life but I tried my best to make amends. Starting with ditching the other woman, tryin’ to make it up to my kids. Don’t think they’ve forgiven me yet.”
It’s his turn to stare out straight ahead into the endless night. I take the opportunity to try and study him. My eyes just about focusing on his grizzly, tanned face. His bright white hair shines out like a beacon.
“I’m sorrrrryyy.”
At least the tears have stopped.
“Oh don’t be sorry son, ain’t got nobody to blame but myself.” He chuckles.
“I did the same thing.”
“I figured as much.”
“Summer didn’t die though. She went away from me. A long, long way from me. I’m sorry about your wife.”
We sit in companionable silence for a while both listening to the soothing sounds of the waves. Both lost in your own thoughts.
“So you gonna tell me why you’re here son?”
“Told you.”
“You told me you cheated on your wife and that she’s fled some ways away from you, don’t explain why you’re here.”
“To die in peace.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want to kill yourself?” He lets out a groan as he struggles to stand. Once he’s righted himself, he heads to the barrier, letting out a low whistle as he turns to face me again. “You really wanna die out here? Smash your head on them rocks? Nasty way to go if you ask me. Long way down. What about your family? How would they feel if you did that?”
“They don’t give a crap.”
“You sure about that?” I turn my head away, unable to look him in the eye. “Thought so,” he says as he walks back towards me. “Is life that bad that you want to end it all? I won’t stop you, if that’s what you truly want.” He stops in front of me shaking his head in pity. “See, in my mind someone has to be desperate to take that option. Not seeing any light at the end of that ole tunnel. They have no way out or no way back but that ain’t you is it?”
Seeing the false sympathy on his face angers me and I somehow find the coordination I need to jump to my feet. “Bullshit.” I snarl, staggering a few steps towards him before my legs give out from under me, forcing me back down on my ass. “You don’t know what the hell I want…I lost my wife, my job, I drink too much,” my words are slurred. Mystery man crouches down next to me, his eyes are hard. All compassion gone.
“Stay down there and shut the hell up boy. Now you listen to me,” he growls, “you know what I see in front of me? I see a man who has hit rock bottom but I see some fight in you yet. You don’t want to kill yourself. You just want the world to feel sorry for you. Well, tough shit son. You brought this on yourself--you fix it yourself. Now I’ve been through the same thing and you kinda remind me of me so I’m gonna help you get back on the straight and narrow.”
“How do you figure that one out?
“If you wanted to jump over that cliff you would have done it by now. That tells me that you don’t really wanna die tonight.” He puts his hand on my shoulder, “whatever is going on in that ole head of yours is buried deep. You carry scars that no one sees don’t ya? These old wounds still fester and rot. They’re slowly destroying you son. I bet up until recently you hid it well. People only saw the light in you, yet you only saw the dark. Now I need you to see the light.” He stands abruptly hauling me up with him. If I were anywhere near sober, I’d be amazed at the strength the old guy had. “Now come on son, let’s get you sobered you up.”
It’s the bright light that hits first; swiftly followed by a searing pain as I struggle to sit up. It blasts through my brain like a bolt of lightning forcing me to lie back down on the unfamiliar bed I find myself in this morning. On the small bedside table next to me is a glass of water and a couple of Aspirin. The room smells heavily of pot pourri; who even uses that shit anymore? My head feels like it’s being hit repeatedly with a very, very large hammer and the sweet, cloying stench makes me want to hurl.
Despite the pain, I manage to force myself to sit up. I’m lying on top of the bed covers. Thank god; I’m fully dressed. The room I’m in is sparsely decorated. There’s only the bed, the bedside table and a chest of drawers. The walls are painted a non-descript shade of blue; there are no pictures on them. Nothing to give me a hint about where the hell I am.
As I swing my legs over the side of the bed I suddenly get why there is that stupid smelling stuff in the room-- I stink. It’s there to cover up my foul smelling funk. Jesus, I smell worse than a skunk. It’s a unique combination of sweat, piss, booze and vomit. What the hell did I do last night? Last thing I remember was meeting Ami and her Mom, them giving me the scrapbook, after that it all gets a little bit hazy.
I kind of remember talking to an older guy, or maybe that was a dream ‘cos I also dreamt of seeing Summer at a party. She looked so beautiful and frail. I just wanted to hold her…
None of this explains what I’m doing in this unfamiliar room. Was I kidnapped? Am I being held by some pervert who’s going to use me as his sex slave?
Shit. I’ve got to get out of here.
Just as I move to stand the bedroom door swings open. In the doorway stands the old guy from last night with a smug look on his face.
“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.” The rumble of his deep voice triggers an immense flash of pain in my head. It’s made worse as he flings open the pathetic excuse for curtains that this room has. If I thought the light was bright before opening the drapes, after is like shining a million suns into my eyes. The streaming sunlight leaves me temporarily blinded and in agony.
“Jesus man!” I shout at him trying desperately to block out the offending light with my hands.
“How you feeling this morning, son?” He asks, studiously ignoring that fact that I’m suffering.
“Like shit.”
“Thought you might,” the sadistic bastard chuckles, “just came to tell ya that breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes. You might want a shower first though,” he says lifting his chin towards the doorway. “You smell like horseshit. It’s the first door on the right. I left you some clothes in there.” With that, he leaves the room.
Twenty-five minutes later, I’m sat across the table from the old guy. A warm plate of pancakes and bacon in front of me, and I'm feeling ten times better for having showered. The track pants and the tee-shirt that he left fit me surprisingly well. We sit in silence as I chow down on the sickly sweet meal. The old man’s plate is untouched as he watches me eat from over the rim of his cup of coffee. His wise gunmetal blue eyes assessing me.
“You not going to eat?” I gesture towards his plate with my fork.
“In a bit.” He smiles, putting the cup of coffee on the table.
“So …I –uh--should thank you.”
“For what?”
“Helping me out last night. Not everyone would have helped a drunken stranger.”
“I’m not everyone,” he answers cryptically as I shovel more of the food into my mouth.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.”
“Oh.” I’m taken aback by his short, sharp responses but I decide to be the better man and introduce myself. “I’m Alex by the way. Alex Thorson.”
“Joe,” he says with a smile that deepens the lines on his weathered face, “Joe H
urdon.”
We say nothing else, continuing to size each other up until I push my empty plate away from me. Curiosity finally makes me loosen my tongue.
“Why did you help me, Joe?”
“I told you last night.”
“I was out of it last night,” I confess. “I don’t remember much of our conversation. Hell, I don’t even remember getting here.”
He lets a long deep sigh leaning back in his chair, “ever heard of paying it forward, son? Someone helps you, you help the next person.” He smiles, “like I said, I was you once. I hit rock bottom, things well they just kept going from bad to worse then worse still and I’ll be honest with you, I thought about ending it yet some no good, interfering old coot wouldn’t let me do that. Decided to help me claw my way back up from the hellhole I’d got myself in. Now I help others do the same.”
“So you help hopeless cases?”
The ornery bastard smirks at me, “in not so many words but yeah.”
“And I’m a hopeless case in your eyes?”
“I wouldn’t say hopeless Alex. I’d say you’ve lost your way and you need to the path again.”
“You’re not going to try and make me join some weird-assed cult?”
“Nope,” he laughs taking another sip of his coffee.
“So what do you want?”
“Like I said I want to help you.”
“Nobody does something for nothing. What do you want in return?” I scoff.
“I know that you don’t believe me but I’ve helped a fair few guys like you. Cleaned them up and made them functioning members of society.”
“So?”
“So you could call me a philanthropist as it were. You’re right though, there is a catch. We’ll get to that in a sec. I’m offering to help you get cleaned up, turn your life around, hell if you prove yourself I’ll give you a job at my garage until you get back on your feet. You can learn a lot working with your hands. How does that sound?”
“Suspicious.”
“You told me yesterday that you lost your job,” he states placing that cup back on the table ignoring my comment.
