First Class Farewell

by Aj Harmon

  Continuing past the closed doors, she wandered through to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. Walking through the living room, past the empty dog bed, she stepped onto the patio and closed her eyes. The city was coming alive as the sun rose over the tall buildings. It was going to be a glorious day. It was just too bad that her heart was breaking with each passing minute.

  *****

  Walking into the vet’s office after lunch, Tim kept a firm grip of Beth’s hand, squeezing every so often in a show of support and love. The receptionist smiled at them as they entered the waiting area and asked them to have a seat while she went and got the doctor. There were several other pet owners scattered around the room, each with their own best friend; a few cats, several dogs, a parakeet and a turtle.

  Sitting on the vinyl covered bench for just a moment, the vet walked through the doorway and walked towards them.

  “Hello Beth. Tim,” he nodded. “Come on back.”

  They stood and followed him down the hall, past the exam rooms and into the back room, through the cat room and into the large area that housed the dogs that were ill or needing medical attention. There lay Cleo, Beth’s faithful companion for the last nine years. With tears in her eyes, she hurried to the cage and knelt in front of her best friend.

  “Hello, sweet girl,” she whispered.

  The doctor opened the cage and Beth pushed herself forward and placed her hand gently on Cleo’s back.

  “You are such a good girl,” she cooed. “My beautiful girl.”

  Cleo didn’t lift her head, but her eyes opened and she sighed. Tim’s heart broke as he watched the exchange. He placed his arm on Beth’s shoulder and wiped a tear that had escaped down his cheek.

  “I will love you forever, Cleo,” Beth continued talking to her dog. “You saved me so many times and I will never forget you.” She continued to stroke her back and rub her ears. “You are forever my girl.”

  The cancer had spread quickly and silently. After two surgeries, the vet had said there was nothing more they could do. She was in constant pain and could no longer walk. The last three days had been spent at the vets getting a second, then third opinion. All were then same. The time had come. Beth had to say goodbye.

  The I.V. was already in Cleo’s front paw. All the vet had to do was administer the liquid in the syringe and Cleo’s pain would be over…she would be at peace…and Beth would be devastated…distraught and heartbroken. Cleo had been there for her, ever loyal, forever faithful. She had even brought Beth and Tim together. How would she survive without her girl?

  With sobs pouring from her, Beth leaned in and kissed Cleo for the last time, and it was as if Cleo knew what was happening and she used her last ounce of energy to lift her head and lick Beth’s hand, saying goodbye in her own way. Tim nodded to the doctor and he pushed the contents of the needle into the IV. In mere seconds, Cleo closed her eyes and exhaled her last breath.

  *****

  Sitting on the park bench half way between their apartment and Tim’s fire house, Beth fondled the dog collar that she held in her hands. The leather was worn and soft…pliable from years of wear. Gut wrenching. Heart breaking. The tears wouldn’t stop.

  Tim held her close…his arm protectively around her as he sat beside her and silently comforted her as best he could. He shared her pain and her loss, after all, Cleo had been his dog for the past six years, too.

  They’d sat for almost an hour watching other dogs play with their owners as they ran after balls and sticks and collected treats for behaving. Tim was just about to suggest they head home when his cell phone rang.

  “Hey, Mark,” he said into the phone. “Can I call you back?” But then his expression changed from concern to something more.

  Beth turned her head and read his expression. “What is it?” she whispered.

  “Oh, no,” Tim choked. “No.”

  9.

  The Obituary

  After many phone calls and texts, it was decided that Mark would begin the necessary arrangements. Family members would be arriving from out of town starting tomorrow, but Matt didn’t want to wait to begin the unpleasantness of planning a funeral. Mark agreed that it was better to get it over and done with so that the grieving process could begin. Never having dealt with a death as close as this, he sat on the sofa without even an inkling of where to begin.

  “The first thing I did when mom died was to talk to the hospital,” Katy offered, sitting down next to him and taking her husband’s hand in her own. “Maybe we should go down there and see what they have to say. They’ll have a whole department just for this sort of thing. They deal with it every day.”

  Mark nodded. “Yeah. That’s the place to start.”

  Matt, on the other hand, flew into CEO mode, it being much easier than trying to deal with the emotional onslaught, immediately on the phone with the police, as he would be the go-to person in the on-going murder investigation. In fact, the two detectives handling the case were on their way to his apartment to get some background on “the deceased” as they put it. At first, Matt was put off by their callous nature, but Janie reminded him that they saw death all day long. It would be impossible to remain focused enough to do their job if they became emotionally involved with every one of their cases. Matt nodded and called Eddie, the doorman, to have him send up the detectives as soon as they arrived.

  Andrew and Rory, along with Paul, had arrived at their family home within minutes of the phone call. Liko had stayed with Maureen after the police had left until her sons had arrived. They tried to talk to her but she had gone into “mom” mode and was trying to make snacks for everyone. It was going to be difficult to get her to sit down for more than two seconds. She was obviously in shock…and denial.

  David and Tim went to the hospital. They needed to be with their father who was lying on a gurney in the hallway. The hospital was chaos, with some kind of bizarre chemical accident sending dozens of people into the E.R.

  “Isn’t there anywhere else you can put him?” Tim demanded of one of the nurses as she rushed past them.

  “I’m sorry,” she replied, genuinely apologetic. “But there isn’t at this time. Please try and be patient.”

  “Tim, go home to Beth,” David pleaded. “I’m fine here with Dad. And Mark and Katy just called to say they were on their way here. Beth needs you more than he does right now,” he said nodding at his father lying still beside them. “There’s nothing you can do here, anyway.”

  So Tim took his father’s hand and kissed him on the forehead. There was no response. He hugged his brother and left.

  *****

  Matt sat at his desk, pen in hand. Some thoughts had come to his mind and he wanted to get them on paper before they were lost to him.

  He put the needs of his children above his own. Dedicated to giving his children the best advantages possible. Kind hearted and giving. Responsible and honorable. Loved by all who knew him.

  A tear dropped from his cheek onto the paper under his hand. How could this have happened? But Janie stepped into the room to tell him the detectives had arrived before he had the chance to try to come to terms with the tragedy.

  “I guess this is where we hear the ugliness of it all,” he frowned.

  And ugliness it definitely was.

  He appeared to be high on drugs when he demanded the cash from the till...in his early forties with nothing in his life but a long list of drug-related arrests and incarcerations. Janie thought it was sad. Matt was furious.

  “So he killed a man over one hundred and forty-three dollars.”

  “It appears so,” the detective replied.

  I’d’ve given the piece of shit a million dollars to have him back again…to go back and do it all over and have it all be different now, Matt thought. But what was done was done and all of his money couldn’t change it.

  “Thank you for your time,” one of the detectives was saying. “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

  Janie saw them ou
t and Matt grabbed his wallet and cell phone off the credenza and met her at the door.

  “I’m going to the hospital,” he said.

  She nodded. “Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”

  Matt shook his head. “Stay here with the kids. They’re gonna figure out something’s going on.”

  “Should we go to your mom’s?”

  Once again, Matt shook his head, knowing that his brothers were with her.

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Give him my love.”

  Matt kissed her cheek and pulled her into a tight embrace. This was where he felt safe. Here in his wife’s arms was home.

  “I love you,” he whispered and then he left.

  *****

  “I should go to the hospital,” Maureen said for the third or fourth time. “I should be with him.”

  Paul shook his head. “David says it chaos there. And besides, there’s nothing that you can do. We’ll stay here with you until we hear more from Matt. He just called to say he was headed over there.”

  With an audible sigh, she sat down and closed her eyes. Her boys watched her carefully, making sure she didn’t buckle under the stress.

  “How about a cup of tea?” Rory suggested.

  “Good idea,” Maureen agreed, opening her eyes and preparing to stand.

  “No! No, I’ll get it,” Rory insisted. “You stay there.”

  “I’m not an invalid!”

  “Of course you’re not. But let us do something for you for a change,” Andrew said softly as he sat beside his mother. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Talk about what?”

  “About what’s happened today,” Andrew said. “It probably isn’t good to keep it all bottled up inside.”

  “What’s done is done,” she replied. “Nothing I say will change that. I guess we should be grateful they weren’t both killed, I suppose. But I think I should be at the hospital. I want to be there when he’s discharged.”

  “David and Matt are taking care of that, Mom. Oh, here’s your tea.”

  Rory placed a dainty cup and saucer on the coffee table in front of Maureen and then sat on the other side of her. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Maureen smiled. “No, thank you. I just need to see Peter. I need to see him. Why can’t I go?”

  *****

  Matt stomped through the Emergency Room looking for David. After asking three different nurses he was finally directed to a small dark room. David hugged him as he entered the room and for several seconds they just held each other, not saying anything.

  As they separated, David spoke. “I’m so sorry, Matt.”

  Matt nodded and looked over at his father. His eyes were closed. He looked peaceful, with the exception of the cut on his forehead over his left eye. The paramedics had placed a small bandage over it but the blood had seeped through and left a small red stain on the bright white gauze, a stark contrast that made the events of earlier seem very real now.

  “Apparently a murder and an assault are not high on the priority list,” muttered Matt, as he stepped towards his father. “Have you even talked to a doctor?”

  “Very briefly. He’ll be fine. They’ve just given him a sedative because he was a bit overwrought.”

  “Naturally,” Matt said.

  “We can take him home as soon as he wakes up.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s good?”

  David and Matt swung around at the voice and rushed to the side of the gurney.

  “Dad!” they both exclaimed, each one grabbing a hand.

  “I’m fine,” Peter muttered, trying to sit up.

  “No,” David said as he held him down. “Just lie there and relax. I’ll go find a nurse.”

  “Matt,” Peter said looking up at his son. “What happened? Where’s Ray?”

  *****

  “I haven’t told him anything,” Matt whispered to Paul, as he opened the door to help his father from the taxi. “I want him to be with mom when he hears the news. She’ll know how to comfort him.”

  Paul understood. As a Navy Seal, death was sadly a reality he had faced too many times to count, and having to share such horrible news should be done carefully. He leaned into the car and helped his dad slide out onto the sidewalk.

  “What happened?” Peter demanded for the tenth time.

  “Let’s get you inside and then we’ll tell you everything,” Paul replied helping him down the steps to the family room door.

  “Peter!” Maureen exclaimed and ran to the door to greet her husband. “Oh, God! You’re hurt!”

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled. “Is Ray here?”

  With a startled expression, Maureen looked to her sons. They guided Peter to his favorite armchair and settled him down with a pillow behind his back. Matt knelt in front of him and held one of his hands.

  “Dad,” he began. “What do you remember?”

  Peter took a deep breath. “I walked into the market. I just wanted some aspirin for your mother. Oh, Maureen!” His attention immediately turned to his wife. “Are you alright? I never got the aspirin.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m fine, dear. Don’t worry about me.”

  “And then?” Matt asked.

  “There was a man…with a gun. He was yelling at the young man to give him all the money in the cash register. He was screaming and waving the gun around and I yelled at him to leave.”

  “Of course you did,” Paul shook his head.

  Peter had always stepped in when he felt someone was being mistreated. At work, at school, in the park, it didn’t matter. He’d said that he felt a moral obligation to stand up for that which was right and he’d passed his sense of responsibility down to his sons. He’d always said that he had a duty to fight for those needing assistance. And a man with a gun pointed at him was surely in need of assistance. Even at eighty years old, Peter would never have backed away from that.

  “And then?” Matt encouraged him to continue.

  “He swung around and told me to shut up,” Peter said. “And I told him that I would give him the money he needed if he’d just put the gun away, but he wouldn’t. So I reached for my wallet and that’s all I remember. I was going to give it to him so he’d leave but I guess he hit me.” Peter reached for his forehead and winced as he touched the cut that was now causing his skin to turn bright purple.

  “I should call Katy and have her come change the bandage,” Maureen said.

  “I’m fine,” Peter repeated. “Tell me what happened, Matt.”

  “Ray ran in when he saw what was happening is the police’s guess. The cashier said that he fought the guy for the gun, but…it went off, and…”

  “And?” Peter asked, tears filling his eyes, somehow already knowing the answer to his question.

  “And Ray was shot. He died before the ambulance got there.”

  “Oh, dear God,” Peter cried.

  *****

  Raymond Charles Thomas, beloved father and friend, the obituary in the paper began, written by Matt and Ray’s two daughters who had arrived in New York from Michigan on Friday afternoon. They were devastated and grateful to the Lathems for handling the funeral arrangements.

  Separated from their dad in their childhood when their mother had moved them to her hometown of Detroit, the girls hadn’t seen much of their father, but in recent years had opened up communication and were slowly becoming close with him again through email and phone calls. He was paying for their college tuition and spoke with them as frequently as possible. Their future with him had been mercilessly snatched from them and they mourned a man they were just starting to get to know. How cruel life could be.

  Ray had been raised by a single mother in Harlem. His older brother had died at the age of seventeen in a gang related shooting and Mrs. Thomas had done all she could to ensure Ray didn’t follow in his footsteps. And he hadn’t. Joining the army, he’d served for eight years, spending five of them in the Middle East during Desert Storm as an Army Ranger. He’
d been employed by a security firm for a couple of years before meeting Matt and accepting his offer of employment. He’d said many times that next to having his daughters, it was the smartest choice he’d ever made, working for MEL Holdings. He’d loved his job and had grown to love the family. When his mother had died a few years before, it was Matt and Janie who’d been there for him, whose shoulders he’d cried on, who had comforted him. They were his family.

  Ray had separated himself from the life he’d had as a boy. He’d encouraged his cousins to follow in his footsteps, offering all the help they needed to get out of and away from the gangs that ruled their neighborhood and become respectable citizens, returning to school and being fathers to the children they’d sired. But many of them hadn’t listened to him and they’d drifted apart, and once again Ray claimed the Lathems as his family.

  And the Lathems claimed him. First a reliable employee and then a trusted driver, Ray became the man that Matt confided in and leaned on in times of trial. He was the loyal friend who watched over Matt’s children, Ella and Christopher, like they were his own. And they loved him back. Matt didn’t know how to break the devastating news to his kids. They were too young to experience such loss and be exposed to senseless violence like this. They would be robbed of their innocence but it couldn’t be helped…he couldn’t procrastinate too long.

  The funeral service would be the following week. It would be a small affair. The girls wanted it to be private…they wanted to be able to mourn the loss of their father without hundreds of eyes on them. Ray wasn’t a church-goer, and neither were his daughters, but they thought a religious service would be appropriate, so it was arranged with Father James that St. Luke’s would hold the service. They also would respect his wishes and have his body cremated.

  Leslie, the older of the two girls, had asked to speak with Matt privately over the weekend.

  “Jackie and I have been talking, and, we know where Dad would want his ashes spread.”

  “Okay,” said Matt. “Is there something that you need me to do?”