if only i was there in time

Untitled Part 1

Sitting at the desk I drop my pen and zone out.

~

His smile flashing through my mind, the way his glasses slid off his nose. The way he used to make sure I was ok after a fight with dad.

Tears slide down my cheeks as he walked away from the window at 18 as dad kicked me out. The emptiness and loneliness that filled my days without him at my side. Then years on the road, alone, broken, selling myself for parts trying to keep afloat while drowning.

His postcard coming to me out of the blue, probably only tracked me down because ma told him i got outta prison. His desperate plea for help, I went, despite the anxiety, the fear of abandonment.

My arrival at his shack in the woods in the dead of winter. The design is the same as the one we drew when we were little. Every outside detail is identical as I remember drawing it with him all those years ago.

No evidence of him having left the shack in weeks, the snow untouched all around. The walk up to the door was agony, not knowing what he could even want or need. The long minutes of waiting at the door, alone in the cold. Brushing snow off the porch enough to sit and wait for him to answer the door.

Closer inspection had me concerned, the snow had built up a little mound in front of the door. The last snowfall had been several days ago, that's what the locals told me as I was asking around.

Deciding I had waited long enough I tried the door, it had been locked. The windows had all been covered on the inside, I had taken note as I approached. Pounding on the door got no response, ford wasn't a heavy sleeper, he would have come out.

The panic that had set in as I realized something was wrong, picking the locks on the door and shoving it open.

The first thing that hit me was the rancid smell. I called out for him and my voice fell short as i gagged. Stumbling back i vomited into to snow, as the smell seeped out from the shack.

~

My hand comes up to my face as i realize im crying, "shit" my voice comes out half choked by tears..

~

Covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve I made my way past the door. The smell getting worse.

Cursing as i tripped over a loaded crossbow that was by the door.

Noting the specks of reddish brown stains on the floor. Following the trail as the smell grew stronger, post it notes lining the walls some in his handwriting.

Most of them were not in his hand, and written in what i could only assume was blood.

The door at the end of the hall beckoning me. Dried blood all over the handle.

Kicking the door open with my foot and seeing him slumped against the far wall of the room. His head to the side in an unnatural way, the way his body looks limp, like a doll.

Stumbling back down the hall, my eyes burning, not just from the smell. Stumbling to the front door as my brain was trying to process the situation.

Hours later sitting in the station talking with the cops as i explain that he sent me a post card. Showing it to them, and asking to use their phone.

Calling ma, to tell her the news.

Walking from the station to the store, someone stops in their tracks and looked at me as if they were trying to remember me. Whoever it was knew him, not me.

The days following, nothing but a blur. Staying at his house, cleaning. Waiting for what, I didn't know.

Feeling lost and shattered. The funeral was in a few days, ma and pa were going to come, shermie was overseas and couldn't make it back.

Closing up his room after scrubbing the mess away, his glasses on his bed waiting for him. Locking it so nobody can open it. Putting the key on a chain around my neck.

The phone call from the station letting me know it was a suicide.

Borrowing a suit of his to wear to the service. Pa refusing to look at me, blaming me.

Walking up to his casket before they lower him down, placing his journal in with him and stepping back, biting the inside of my cheek so pa doesnt see me cry.

~

Thundering feet making their way downstairs grabs my attention. I cough and wipe my eyes. His picture on the desk in front of me.

"Happy birthday sixer, missed you the last 30, hopefully i get ta see ya in another 20."