Feeling satisfied with his life decisions on Thanksgiving - or maybe not |
A Wonderful Thanksgiving Eve Bill Porter sits in a folding chair inside his garage. It is raining. Water and fall leaves scrape across the driveway. Grey clouds rush east to west at one altitude while a lower, more whitish layer appears to be moving in the opposite direction. He recalls an aviator friend calling those whitish clouds killer scud because they seemed to follow his Cessna 172 causing diminished vision from his window for moments at a time; possibly enough time for a diligent pilot to miss a nearby private aircraft encroaching in his airspace. With the garage door open he thrills at admiring the beautiful lawns in this classy neighborhood. It is the day before Thanksgiving and Bill muses on his blessings. He rarely stops to consider his life but today he is supremely satisfied. He has a wife who loves him and dotes over his every whim. He has two wonderful children. Both earned advanced degrees and are now professionals enjoying their own children in another state. Bill thinks of his adoring grandkids and now he has great-grands too. He sees them often and they cry to stay just a little longer every time. Bill thinks those grandkids are so lucky to be part of a balanced and happy family. Bill believes the children will be even more successful than their parents because they are loved, being taught the importance of getting a great education and each is blessed with both common sense and intelligence. What more could he wish for? Bill picks up the garage door remote and as the big door glides to a close, he places the .38 hand gun in his mouth a fires. Tilly wonders what the old fart has broken now. She tugs herself out of her easy chair and is intent to give him a piece of her mind. She hauls her waddle of swirling fat into the garage. Bill is slumped over as though reaching for something on the floor. "Get up asshole," she calls. "Why don't you come when I call you? I always have to find you." She reaches out and smacks him hard on the shoulder as she has done many times before. Bill pummels limply to the floor. "So you are finally dead," she whispers. "Well, I got news for you, you old fart, you been dead to me for more years than I can count." She goes to call the ambulance to come and get his sorry carcass. "Guess I'll fish out that $25,000 policy in the morning and get someone to put you away. Don't expect me to beg those kids to come around just for this either." "God knows they spent many years trying to avoid your sorry parentage. Besides they don't get welfare until next week and I sure as hell ain't payin' to get that useless tribe down here." "So, thanks Bill. You finally took my good advice and pulled the trigger. ... Well, we had one or two good years but that don't nearly make up for all them bad ones. Just too bad you didn't ever work steady. Things might have turned out better." With her touching soliloquy said, Tilly went off to call the brood. As each received the news, they acted surprised and sorrowful, but they all had good reasons for not attending the funeral. By the way, each one casually asked, was there any insurance money? "Not a penny," said Tilly. |