Brick Walls

I remember the coffee. It was hot and warmed my rained-soaked soul. I was on my way to one of the mundane classes that seemed to clog up my schedule that third year in college. The sky had opened up and buckets of rain began to drench the earth. I was still several blocks from my class, so I decided to duck in to the coffee shop to wait out the storm.

I walked in and tried to shake the wetness off me, but it made no difference at all. I went to the counter and ordered a cappuccino. The longhaired guy behind the counter brought me the drink. I hoped that he would just make the transaction and not find it necessary to strike up a conversation.

“It’s really coming down out there, huh?” said the coffee guy. His name tag read “Skippy.” Normally I would assume such a handle would be just a nickname, but from the looks of this guy, I wasn’t so sure. If ever in the world there was a guy named Skippy, this was he. “This will warm you up, though. It’ll be $3.50.”

I reached in to my pocket and pulled out four crumpled and damp bills. Apparently the rain had soaked in to my pockets. I hated wet money all most as much as I hated paying three dollars and fifty cents for a cup of coffee.

“It’s been raining off and on like this all day. I’m sure it will stop in a few minutes,” I said, trying to accommodate Skippy’s need for banter.

Skippy gave me my change and I dropped the coins into my pockets. At least he didn’t say something witty and annoying like “don’t spend it all in one place.” I hated little witty sayings almost as much as I hated paying three dolla…you get the point. I sipped my overpriced gourmet coffee, and turned to see how hard the rain was coming down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. She was alone in the corner booth Reading some books and sipping on a cappuccino of her own. Time stopped and I was stuck in that moment, staring at her.

Time began again and I moved to sit down. Would I sit by her? No, the seat by the door suited me just fine. Besides she didn’t even notice me. I was in general a pretty unnoticeable guy. I’m not saying that I was ugly, just not remarkable.

She was something totally different. Her hair was a solid dark brown and it fell down just past her shoulders. She had on a pair of reading glasses, and behind the lenses were the most enchanting pair of brown eyes I had ever seen. The glasses rested on her nose, which was slightly crooked to the left. Some would call it a flaw, but I thought that the slight quirky imperfection added to her allure and beauty. She moved her lips as she read, but in a cute way, not an ignorant I-can’t-seem-to-comprehend-this way. Her concentration on her task was oddly erotic. I could see the hunger and wonder sparkling behind the glasses.

She lifted her head up and glanced my way. My heart pounded just once harder than it had ever pounded before. Then it stopped for two beats. She had seen me staring. She probably thought I was some sort of rapist sizing up my prey. If only I could tell her how captivated I was by her and not sound like a potential sex offender. I knew that she would pretend not to see me and avoid making eye contact again.

But she didn’t. Instead, her gorgeous lips parted in the most perfect and simple smile I had ever seen. I was immediately at ease. That smile had a way of making me comfortable. The same way that a child’s favorite blanket makes everything seem okay. She didn’t think ill of me or want me to go away. As odd as it seemed to me, it was as if she liked what she saw.

More people began to step into the coffee shop to escape the rain. As the place filled up, people would stand in between me and coffee shop girl. Every time I would crane my neck to get a glimpse of her, to my surprise I would discover her doing the same to me. Not even the hustle and bustle of the small shop could keep our attention from one another.

I began to tell myself that I should go talk to her. I needed to say something. I should get her name and number. “What if I am reading these looks the wrong way?” I second-guessed. I probably was. I mean, how could the most attractive girl I had ever seen want anything to do with me.

“It looks like it’s stopping,” said one of the customers.

I looked out the window and saw that indeed the rain had stopped. I looked at my watch. I had five minutes to get to class. I got up coffee in hand and walked toward the door. Just before I walked out, I looked back at her and we exchanged a glance. The glance seemed to say goodbye with a hope of meeting again.

I stepped out on to the street and began to cross to the other side. Why was I doing this? What was I afraid of? I knew I should be inside right now talking to that girl making plans to go to dinner. Hell, I even saw us on that dinner date laughing and exchanging more knowing glances over a bottle of wine. “Then go back,” I told myself.

The clouds broke for a brief second and the sun shone bright. It seemed to bathe me in warmth. I was going to go back in there and talk to her. I was going to go introduce my self and get to know her. I was going to put myself out there and see what would happen. This was my conviction, my moment of clarity. Then the clouds covered the sun again, and all was gray.

I turned around to go back and ran right into a brick wall. The wall was an endless expanse of brick extending in all directions and blocking me from what I wanted. I tried to ram through it, but it was much stronger than I was. Climbing was no use because the top was nowhere in sight. I couldn’t penetrate the obstacle so I turned around and went to class.

* * *

She was crying and I wasn’t. That made me an insensitive, uncaring bastard. Because tears weren’t running down my face, that meant that I was indifferent about the situation. I wasn’t indifferent, just unprepared. I really can’t imagine how any man could be prepared for such a thing.

“Does this mean anything to you at all?” she said. The look on her tear-streaked face seemed to beg for some sort of reaction from me. She got nothing, though. I just didn’t feel anything at that moment. It was like my whole being, even my soul, was hollow.

I had been with her for a long time, something like four years. For me that was damn near an eternity. Before her I hadn’t met a girl who could stand to be involved with me for more than six months. Some said I was too cynical. Others said I was full of too much self-hatred. I even got the heave-ho once because she didn’t like my hair. Now I could take all sorts of attacks on my character, but what’s up with going at my hair.

She could stand me though. She didn’t run from me or any of my “problems,” the biggest one at that time being alcohol. She had accepted me for what I was and decided that I was what she wanted, at least at that stage in her life. But this exchange had seemed to change all of that.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” she yelled.

I wanted to tell her that she wasn’t alone in this. I wanted to say that it was going to be all right and that I was going to be there. Some how these thoughts got mixed up and came out as, “What are you going to do?”

“‘What am I going to do’! Is that all you can say? This involves you, too. This is our decision, isn’t it?”

Not exactly what I wanted to say and defiantly not the reaction I wanted. She did say the word decision though, which meant that we had some options to weigh.

“So you are considering an ab-,“ somehow the word wouldn’t come out. The first syllable seemed to remain suspended in between us.

“An abortion! You want me to get rid of it. It’s our child. Is it the fact that you don’t want to be a father or that you don’t want to be with me?”

“Hey, you know I want to be with you, but do you think that we are ready to be parents? Hell, I can’t even stay sober long enough to keep a job. You want me to be a father now.”

This wasn’t going the direction I wanted at all. The shocked look on her face filled me with regret. Hell, even I was surprised at what was coming out of my mouth. I didn’t even know if I meant it.

“Then it’s settled. I will make this decision by myself and live with the consequences by myself,” she said, wiping tears away.

She stormed out of my apartment never looking back. I stood in disbelief not totally sure what had happened. Why did this shit have to come now? Things were getting really…pleasant. Our relationship had always been adequate. Sometimes it was actually great. Like when we would both blow off work and retreat from the world for an afternoon. I loved her; at least I thought it was love. She was no coffee shop girl, but I realized that no one ever had been.

I was ten years removed from the perfect woman sipping on cappuccino, yet she was still the barometer I used to measure all other women. What was really sad was that not one girl had ever measured up to a woman that I had never even spoken to. That was because it wasn’t possible. The coffee shop girl was never what I really wanted or needed. She was just an excuse for not putting my true heart out there. Coffee shop girl was just something I could throw in a girls face to discredit her instead of working with her to make the relationship work.

What I really wanted had just walked out the door, carrying with her my child. That was my future. I did love her, and I didn’t want to lose her. I had to go get her and tell her that I had always wanted her. I had to show her that we were meant to be together.

I ran to the door and threw it open. I knew, if I hurried, I could catch her before she was gone. But when I tried to step outside I ran in to a brick wall. The wall was as strong and sturdy as ever. I shouted for her to wait and comeback. The sound was all absorbed by the heavy brick. It was no use. We were separated now, she on one side of the giant brick wall and me on the other.

* * *

Guns are heavy. You never really realize that until you hold one. In the movies and on TV, characters wield them as if they are made of plastic. That’s not true, though. They are made of cold, hard, heavy metal.

Cancer is a bitch. Especially bone cancer. It can overtake you without so much as a warning sign. By the time you realize something is wrong, it’s too damn late and the doctor tells you that you have six months to live. They tell you that they can take measures to help you, but the odds are slim. If the treatments don’t work the only thing they can do is make the final days as pain free as possible.

I felt sorry for the poor doctor that had to tell me this. It was real hard for him. I could tell he wasn’t sure how to tell me. I wish I could have saved him the stress. It would have been all right with me if he had just written it in a letter or something.

So now I am here. Sixty-five years all boiled down to six months. Never married, not many friends and six months to think about it. That sounds like hell to me; a lonely, six month hell full of regrets. All the things I’d wished I’d done or said. All the missed opportunities and chances not taken. Looking back at all the things I never wanted to think about.

Not for me. I’ll just close my eyes and this cold heavy steel will help me avoid all of that. Now I know why they call it a peacemaker. The hunk of metal is like an expressway to where I’m going instead of taking the back roads of my past.

But what about all the opportunity to make amends? A lot of living can be done is six months. A lot of bridges can be mended. What about the hope of a cure? Medical science is progressing everyday. They can cure my cancer and I can work on curing my tarnished soul. There is that hope that’s worth living for.

I choose to fight. I accept the challenge. I will embrace life empowered by hope. I stand here decided and determined.

Except, brick walls surround me. They reach up past the sky and they enclose me. Hope cannot penetrate the thick brick. Tall overwhelming brick walls surround me. It seems I cannot take this path.

Guns are heavy. This gun in particular is extremely heavy. The barrel feels cold against my tongue. It is a strange feeling. I am sure of this decision and take comfort in the security of this certainty. What is best, however, is that there are no walls blocking me now.



If you liked this try "The White Scarf"  or "Good Old Jared"