back at how he’s been feeling
lately, I think the symptoms were
there all along. I tried to talk him
into seeing a doctor, but that is
so not Uncle Jessie’s thing.”
Is your dad here? Did he get to
see Jessie? They wouldn’t let me
in, did you know that? I’m not
legally attached to the man.
“They wouldn’t let Dad see him,
either. But he did come. Nurse Meri
just chased us all out of the waiting
room and told us to come back
in the morning. Cheerfully, of course.”
That rates a smile, or at least
a half smile, but her mind has
wandered. We always meant
to fill out the proper paperwork
to legitimize our partnership,
but it was never a priority.
We were stupid. We were
sure we had plenty of time.
Priorities
Are hard to prioritize,
even at my age, when
my options are relatively
limited. Being an adult
must suck because then you
can’t use excuses like,
Yeah, but I’m just a kid.
“Everything’s going to be
all right, Quin. And no
worries. If you and
Uncle Jessie don’t put
filing necessary paperwork
at the top of your list, I’m
just the guy to remind you.
Let me drive you home.
I’ll stay over tonight
so you won’t be alone
out there. In the morning,
you can get all beautiful
before I bring you back.
I’m skipping school
tomorrow, regardless.”
I’m Almost Surprised
When she says okay, but then
what choice does she have?
Dozing in a hard wooden chair
in a room reeking of sandalwood?
She follows me to my truck and
I open the passenger door for her.
Before she climbs up inside,
she rewards me with a weak hug.
I just want to tell you thanks
for all you do for Jessie and me.
He talks about you all the time,
you know. I’m glad you’re close.
Part of me wants to protest.
I am close to no one, really.
But then again, I guess the people
I’m closest to at this point in
my life are Uncle Jessie and
Alexa, not necessarily in that
order. And after those two,
unbelievably, I’d have to rank
my mother.
When We Get to the House
Larry, Mo, and Curly are freaking
out. Hungry, yes, but more. It’s like
they intuit their “dad” is in trouble.
They sniff around the truck, then
nudge Quin, one after the other,
as if asking, Where did he go?
I help divvy up kibble, and after
the dogs eat, take them out for a pre-bed
sniff and piss. When the four of us return,
Quin has made up the couch for me.
It’s late, but she sits in the rocking chair
for a few minutes, drinking a hot
toddy. She doesn’t offer one to me,
but I’m good with that. Sleep won’t
elude me tonight. In fact, I’m dozing
when my mouth opens up and words
hiccup out. “Hey, Quin. In the chapel?
You weren’t, like, praying, were you?”
Slip-slip-slipping away, but some
small piece of me hears, Would it
disappoint you if I confess I was?
Adrift
In the narrow pewter space
between the gray of consciousness
and the obsidian where dreams ebb
and flow, I am drawn to the sound
of Quin’s voice, gentle in prayer.
She doesn’t plead. Doesn’t demand.
It’s more like she’s having a regular
conversation with somebody just out
of sight. Jessie isn’t a perfect man,
like I have to tell you that. But he’s
a good man, and special to me. If you
can see your way clear to help him
you back. Just tell me what you want
me to do. Now she’s quiet. Can she hear
something lost to me? One more thing.
Jessie’s probably scared. Since I can’t
be there to shore him up, could you please
send him peace of mind and a little love
from me? In your name. Amen.
So much pain, and yet hope, too.
And something else, something deeper—
wonder, I think, as if she’s tapped into
something marvelous, and well beyond
this world. What does it take to find that?
Can you randomly discover it, or does
it require faith? Can faith be as simple
as tossing questions toward the Great
Unknown, then listening for answers?
But what if you never receive them?
Alexa once asked if I wouldn’t feel
better knowing some piece of Luke
still existed somewhere. “Hey, little man,
you there? Can you hear me? Throwing
this out there, just in case. Any way
you can put in a good word for Uncle
Jessie? We sure don’t want to lose him
just yet. You can wait a while for his
company, can’t you?” Wow. Did I say
that out loud? And was it a prayer?
A Strange Slant of Light
Pulls me from sleep toward morning,
and when I open my eyes Curly
is standing there, staring at me.
He gives me a big old doggy tongue
right across my mouth. “Ew! Gross!”
Quin comes out of the kitchen.
Ha-ha. No alarm clocks necessary
in this house, that’s for sure.
Her hair is knotted in a single
long braid down her back, and
she’s wearing an ankle-length
blue polka-dotted dress in place
of her usual jeans. I offer her
a wolf whistle. “Wow. Hope
Uncle Jessie is appreciative.”
Probably more grouchy than
appreciative, but he’s got every
reason to be grouchy. Coffee’s
ready, and I can fix you some eggs
if you’re hungry. Then we should go.
I Decline the Eggs
Accept the coffee in a to-go cup,
and as we pass the office on our way
out, I stop long enough to hang
a note on the door: Closed Due to
Unexpected Circumstances. Check
Back. I make a mental note to record
some information on the answering
machine, once I have the info myself.
By the time we reach the hospital,
right around nine, Uncle Jessie has
already signed the necessary document
to allow Quin into his room. We both
start that way, but are halted by a not-
so-Meri nurse outside the door. Two
visitors max at a time, please. You’ll
have to ask the two who are in there
to step outside for a few minutes.
He’s in no condition for a party.
The Hulk-like woman waits for us
to nod understanding before stomping
away. “Char
ming.” Quin and I trade
places with Lorelei and Dad, who’s
tousled. Lose a little sleep, Dad?
Guilt, or an extended roll in the hay?
As We Pass
He stops me briefly. We’re going
to get some breakfast, but we’ll be
back. So you know, I got hold of
my parents, and they’re driving down
from Portland tomorrow. I’d like to
offer them your bedroom, if that’s okay.
They’ll probably stay a week. Barring
unexpected complications, Jessie will
move to a regular room later today,
and hopefully be out of here Monday
or Tuesday. He’s got a crazy idea
in his head, and unless Quin disagrees,
looks like there might be a wedding
next week. He won’t even wait until
he heals up, says he wants to be sure
she’s taken care of if his ticker decides
it’s had enough. Too bad it takes something
like this to make a person see the light.
Too Bad It Takes
Something like this to make
a man visit his brother, too,
but I’m pretty sure I don’t need
to voice that opinion. I’m guessing
guilt has steamrolled right over him.
“It’s fine for Gram and Gramps
to take my room. I can stay out
then crash on an airbed in Luke’s
room.” I shoot Lorelei a wicked
glare. “As long as it’s okay with you.”
Of course. I don’t think I’ll get
a lot of work done for the next
few days anyway, so no worries.
I kind of hate how she’s so
accommodating. Actually, more
than kind of. Off they go in search
of pancakes, and I watch just long
enough to see Dad snake his hand
around her narrow hip, coax her closer.
I hear Alexa urging forgiveness,
but clinging to resentment
is much easier.
In the Short Span of Time
It took for that exchange, Jessie
has already sprung his surprise
on Quin, who sits on a chair
very close to the bed,
eyes shining tears.
Look at her, he purrs to me.
Isn’t she just about the most
beautiful woman in all the world?
He’s lying flat, without even
a pillow, tubes running into his arm
and nostrils. Regardless, happiness
illuminates his face.
Never saw the need to tie the knot
before, he wheezes. But this li’l
experience opened my eyes.
We shoulda done it long time ago.
Guess I’m lucky she di’n’ run.
Definitely some decent drugs
being piped into his veins. “Duh,
dude! But wait. What did Quin say?”
I’m kin’ messed up, but I think
she said yes. Din’ you, Quin?
She Did
Whoopee! We’re going to have
a wedding, and that allows joy
to temper the overriding fear
that Jessie’s time could be short.
“So I guess we should look for
a cake that’s fat and sugar-free,
yeah? I mean, you’ll have to
watch your diet now, right?”
Smart-ass. I wouldn’t be too
cocksure of yourself, though.
Heart disease tends to run
in families. Tol’ your dad
the same damn thing, not that
he ever listens to anything
I advise. Can’ believe how pretty
that li’l Lori still is, ya know?
Do. Not. Argue. “Careful,
now, or you’ll make Quin
jealous. Still plenty of time
for her to run. Right, Quin?”
She smiles right past her tears.
Way too late for that, Matt.
Anyway, I’m not the jealous
type, and at the moment I’ve got
more important things on
my mind than Jessie Turner’s
wandering eye. I’m just glad
he’s still around to let it wander.
“Yeah, well, I’d be concerned
if I were you. If he thinks Lorelei
is good-looking, he probably
thinks Nursezilla is pretty, too,
and you never know where she
might decide to put her hands.”
In my best “large woman” voice,
I say, “Sponge bath, Mr. Turner?”
Quin laughs, then retorts,
Better her giving him a sponge
bath than me. Now if you’ll excuse
me, I need to visit the ladies’ room.
When She’s Gone
I scoot into the vacant chair.
“I’m glad you’re going to marry
her. It’s a damn good decision.”
His eyes close and he whispers,
Funny how your mind works
when you believe you’re dying.
First you recycle regrets. Should
have. Could have. Why didn’t I?
I had a pretty long list there, and
right at the top was Quin. That
would be one hell of a reward
for putting up with me all these
years, huh? Debt. Her home and
property in my name, and no will
to say where it should rightly go
when I die. She’s listed as beneficiary
on my pitiful life insurance, but that
wouldn’t take her very far. I got
the chance to make it right, and
by God, I’m gonna do exactly that,
just as soon as I get out of this place.
He goes quiet, except for pulling
breath, and I think he’s fallen
asleep. But when I start to get up,
he puts out a hand. Something
else. I really thought I was checking
on out of this world. After regretting
came a big rush of fear. I was soul-
deep scared that the crazy pain
in my chest was all I was getting
before everything went black.
The end. Finis. Nothing more.
I yelled, “Help!” and I know
those people working on me thought
I was talking to them, but I wasn’t,
you know? I was calling out to
the universe and all of a sudden . . .
I don’t know how else to say it,
but I wasn’t scared anymore.
And I have no idea what that means,
only if there is something after this
lifetime, I want to learn what it is.
All That Talking
Combined with his morphine drip
has wiped him out. He slips down
into a sea of sleep, much too deep
for dreams to find him. I’ve never
considered what it’s like to come
face-to-face with death. Would I
be “soul-deep scared” of everything
going black? Does it happen all at
once, or does the light fade slowly—
gray, grayer, pewter, coal, obsidian?
If I had that time, would I recycle
regrets? I haven’t lived very long,
relatively speaking, but I’ve managed
to collect quite a few. Do small regrets
flicker, huge ones flash, or are they
more like weights, stacked one by one
until they crush you into oblivion?
Would my very last flashback
be Hayden and me getting hot on
a blanket, segue to a funeral
on a sweltering summer day?
It’s just not fucking fair that Uncle
Jessie has the chance to make good
his biggest regret, but I never can.
The Whisper of a Skirt
Tells me Quin has returned.
I stand to give her the chair
by the bed. Not a whole
lot for me to do here. I almost
wish I’d gone to school after all.
“Dad wants me to let Gram
and Gramps have my bedroom,
so if it’s okay, I’ll stay with you
over the weekend. That way
I can mind the range if you want.”
At least I’ll have something to do
besides sitting here thinking
about stuff I’d rather not consider.
Sounds good. I’ll probably
hang around here until
they kick me out. Take the keys.
And you’ll feed the dogs for me?
“It’s the least I can do in return
for the room and board. I’ll stop
by the house for some clean
clothes. Let me know if you need
anything while I’m still in town.”
I start to leave, but she stops me.
Hold on just a minute. I know
you’re pissed at your father
and his girlfriend, but I hope
you can find a way to reconcile
your relationship with them.
That old saying “life is too short”
has taken on new meaning.
I think we all need to allow
ourselves some healing now.
“I wish I could, Quin,
but I’m not really sure how.
I promise to work on it, though.”
I give her a hint of a hug.
“You’re okay driving
yourself home, right?”
Of course. I think the drama
has subsided, at least for now.
Leave the lights on, but
don’t wait up for me. Not sure
what time I’ll get there.
There’s Nobody Home
When I get there, and that’s all
good with me. I straighten my room,
strip the sheets from the bed, empty
my clothes hamper, and take the dirties
to the laundry room. No use grossing
out the grandparents with the smell
of used underwear and socks, and
anyway, I haven’t stroked my OCD