3.20.2015

M6 - End of Part 2

The sun hung heavy in a late afternoon sky, setting fire to the world as it fell slowly towards the distant horizon.  Shadows drew longer and longer as the minutes ticked off. Today’s warmth began to succumb to the cool breeze now blowing down mostly deserted streets trailing refuse in its wake.  Crumpled newspapers danced and twirled, crushed cans rattled, empty bottles rolled and clinked, plastic bags rustled like leaves, the detritus of civilization sweeping along in an annoying mélange of urban noise.

Sidewalks carried few pedestrians this afternoon.  Midweek, no one had anywhere important to be, and the rush-home-from-work crowd still had some hours to go before their daily stampede. 

As crowds went, the current incarnation was rather dilute, being mostly shiftless teenagers.  Kids with nothing better to do than hang out, no rides, no goals, their stay at homes moms probably too busy making dinner or something else sufficiently homely to care about their whereabouts. 

A ragtag group of skateboarders zipped by, sullen and quiet except for the rhythmic clacking of wheels against dips in the sidewalk.  Headphones in, they slid past without comment, something about the day making everyone depressed.

At least it wasn’t raining.

I shifted, metal chair dug into my back.  My waitress stopped by to ask if I needed a refill.  I shook my head sending her away with a request for the bill and a polite smile. She smiled back and walked off.  I’d had too many already.

One was enough for me, thank you.  Coffee here was always too bitter, too hot, scalded my tongue every time, pick a reason.  I hated the stuff they served at this place, but Marlin loved it, so I did my duty as a good brother and tagged along once a week.  That was the deal; no matter what was going on in our lives, we would always set aside a day for each other. 

Most of the time Marlin would drink while I watched, waiting for the inevitable caffeine buzz to pass from her through me.  Just like the drugs, our preternatural connection allowing me to share her high while sparing me the indignity of swilling blistering garbage water.

Now, her mug sat untouched on the table across from me.  Full, gone cold, mocking our weekly ritual, a reminder of a promise as yet unfulfilled. 

Clouds gathered further off, but the chill that was settling in would not be enough to bring rain.  Still, it would be another starless night, like every night since my sister was taken from me.

The waitress came back, handed me the bill, I handed her a ten and she produced change from somewhere in her apron.  A few folded singles and a handful of change exchanged hands.  One more reason I hated the coffee here, too damned expensive.  Another pair of plastic smiles met, polite but insincere. 

I spilled the coins onto the table.  A dull nickel spun on its edge before clattering onto its face, dying sunlight glinting off tiny polished bits.  I stared down at it, miserable, alone. 

Mom and dad were in denial.  For all intents and purposes, their hope is justified.  Marlin’s body lies inert in a south county hospital bed, in a completely vegetative state.  Maybe she’ll pull out of it, there’s been no physical damage to her body.  Maybe she will be okay.  Maybe this, maybe that.  I know she won’t be, though. 

Out of frustration I grabbed for the change, my hand coming back nearly empty, holding only two cents.  Fuck it, the rest was a tip.  Rising, I pocketed the pennies, tossed the dollar bills into the center of the table, and took the last sip of the horrible coffee. 

Sooner or later, I was going to get my sister back.


Today, though, I was going to Hell.

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