Commencement

by Lawrence Cherry

When Tim opened his eyes and saw nothing but darkness before him, he thought he was dead and had entered oblivion. But as he became more aware of his surroundings he realized that he was in a room where there was no light. He sat up and tried to think, but his head was throbbing, everything was foggy and the sudden rush of blood to his head made him dizzy, so he lay back down. Then it came to him as he rubbed his hands over his face. He had taken Clara’s advice after all, blew off the rest of the day at his job and went to Leandra’s Election Night Party. Was he still there in some back room? Was he in jail? He sat up again, a lot slower this time and peered around the room for signs of where he was. He was obviously on a couch of some kind and there was a table in front of him with something on it. So he checked it out and played with it and the TV came on illuminating the scene and yet blinding him at the same time. After recovering from his initial shock, he finally realized he was in his own apartment at the New Towers.

  Then he decided to try to stand up, which took a bit of effort since he was still a bit disoriented, and walk over to the window to open the blinds. Then he decided to turn off the TV because it was making too much noise and his head couldn’t take it. Now that Tim was fully aware he began to take assessment. It was another full minute before he realized someone had taped a post-it on his shirt. Tim peeled it off and read it.

  “I called in sick for you. Your stuff is in the bag next to the couch. Your car is in the garage over on 5th by Leandra’s. And you may want to change those pants and take a shower!”

  It was times like this that Tim was glad for a friend like Allen. He always knew how to have a brother’s back. Tim looked down at his pants, but didn’t notice anything other than they were a little wrinkled. However, on second notice, they were a little damp in the front. A little damp in the front! And down the legs! Tim decided to take a page from Allen’s book and swore off all drinking from that moment forward. He only hoped that this embarrassing moment did not happen in public, and that Allen would be a good friend and be discreet. Then, all of a sudden, he felt that wave of nausea that would always sweep over him when he woke up. Within seconds he rushed to the bathroom to vomit. It was mostly just saliva and stomach acid, since he emptied out all of the alcohol on Callie’s dress when they were leaving the Election Night party. When he was done he flushed the toilet and leaned his head against the bathtub.

  He had been reduced to this: a smelly, drunk loser. Correction: a smelly, drunk loser with no job six months from today, and who in the meantime had to serve as his worst enemy’s slave. Tim eased himself up, kicked off his shoes, and took off his pants and threw them in the garbage. He could hear Allen’s voice in his head say, “Are you crazy? Those are $500 designer jeans!” There was no way Tim was going to try to explain what happened with them to the dry cleaning guy or the laundry guy, and he certainly had no intention of laundering them himself. He walked back out to the living room and over to the couch to inspect the bag with his things. There was his smart phone, his car keys, his house keys, his glasses, and his wallet. Tim could always trust Allen to look out for him. He put on his glasses and checked his phone for the date and time. Wednesday, 4:30pm. Wednesday! 4:30pm! Today was his mom’s birthday, and Tim had to meet her for dinner in two hours! Tim decided to call her and try to get out of it. He didn’t want his mother to see him in his present state, and he didn’t want to have to talk to her about his job situation, though eventually he knew he would. He tried her number at work, but she wasn’t in the office so he tried her cell phone.

  “Eleanor Russell”, she answered sweetly after several rings.

  “Happy Birthday, mom.”

  “Oh, Tim”, she said with some dissatisfaction in her voice. “I was wondering when you were going to call. Allyson called this morning.”

  “Sorry, mom. Things have been pretty hectic on my end.”

  “Are you alright, dear? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I been going through a lot of stress at work lately and you know how my stomach gets sometimes.”

  “Well it’s a good thing for you that we’re going to Lydia’s tonight. They have an excellent chicken consume that would do you well.”

  “I’m not sure about that. I really don’t feel well at all.” For the first time Tim was actually honest about his physical state. He had hoped his mother would be selfless enough to excuse him from his filial obligation.

  “You’re well enough to work. You are at work, aren’t you?”

  “Of course”, Tim lied. He knew that if he told his mother he wasn’t at work it would bring on a fusillade of questions and he was afraid that he might let it slip out that he had been axed. Though six months from now. Tim couldn’t risk it.

  “If you can suffer through a few cramps at work, surely you can suffer a few more for your mother tonight, right?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  There was no way he could win.

  “So Ally and I will see you tonight at 6:30 promptly. I hope you’re not pouting, Tim. You would think that as old as I am now, you would cherish spending time with me. Especially after everything I have sacrificed for your well being.”

  “First of all, I’m not pouting, and you know I don’t mind spending time with you.”

  “I don’t know, Tim. When a child waits until almost the last possible minute to wish his mother ‘happy birthday’, and then in the next breath begins to make excuses as to why he can’t even spare a few hours for dinner, it’s enough to make one feel very unappreciated.”

  “I wasn’t making excuses, mom. I was just telling you how I was.”

  “Yes, you were telling me with the hope that I would excuse you so you could go off…tell me, Tim, what could you have to do that is more important than spending time with your own mother? Is it one of those whores you run around throwing money at?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that! Why do you always have to read into everything I say?!”

  “Tim, I’m your mother, I don’t have to read into anything. I know. And I suggest you watch your tone when you are addressing me.”

  “I said I’ll be there, alright!”

  “I’m not going to go through this with you, Tim. If you really don’t want to come then don’t come. Heaven forbid that I should be a burden” she retorted angrily before hanging up.

  Tim had the better sense to understand that this meant that he had indeed better come.

  “I love you too, mom”, Tim mumbled into the dead air.

  He chucked his cell phone on the sofa and wasted no time getting ready for his mother’s birthday dinner. This was a formidable task considering his physical state. His head was still throbbing, and he felt nauseous and dizzy. Tim managed to stagger his way back to the bathroom and turned on the light. In the next moment he was once again kneeling in front of the toilet heaving what little intestinal liquid that was left in his stomach. When the fit was over he stood up, and stared at himself in the mirror. His curly hair was going every which way, and his face looked gaunt and haggard. Not to mention the serious five o’clock shadow. And he only had about an hour to change into a semblance of something a bit more human.