In a Moment's Notice (WIP)

Death

Patrick sat in the middle of his bed with his knees drawn into his chest. Tears shamelessly ran down his cheeks. His sobbing became louder. His father knocked on his door, but Patrick couldn’t move from his bed.

“Patrick. Please. Let me in. It’s okay. Really. It’s gonna be okay.”

No. It would never be okay. How could it ever be okay?

“Well. I’m here for you if you need me. I’ll be downstairs. In my study.”

Patrick was supposed to be packing his bags to go with Katie and the boys to Western Style, but instead he would be packing his bags, and going to a funeral. His uncle Terrance’s funeral. His heart ached; feeling like it would explode from pain. He rolled over onto his side. He cried for two hours.

He dozed but his sleep was disturbed by images of his uncle. He and his uncle were playing tennis, not he and Scottie and Skyler. He was beating his uncle Terry. Patrick was hitting the ball with pace and precision. Suddenly, Terry stumbled trying to make a crosscourt backhand. He made the shot and dashed back to the center, anticipating Patrick cross-court forehand. Patrick returned the ball down the line, leaving his uncle, panting flat on his feet.

“C’mon Terry.” Patrick teased, “Move your feet.” A look of pain crossed his face but Patrick ignored it. “You can’t stand to loose.”

Terry slowly moved towards the deuce court to return Patrick’s serve. Patrick served the ball hard and instead of landing in the service court, it his uncle in the chest. Causing him to fall to his knees.

Patrick woke sat up. Very awake and dazed. He looked around his room, blinking. The lights on. Why? Oh My God. Yes. It’s true, Terry was dead. Patrick fell back hard against his mattress, his eyes looking at though not really seeing the ceiling. He felt strange. Out of place. Pictures of Terry popped into his mind; He and Terry at the beach in Fort Myers Beach, Florida. He was twelve. . There was Terry at Christmas, arriving almost too late, carrying an armload of gifts.

Tears slid down the sides of his face. His body was much more quiet. Patrick spent many of his spring breaks with Terry. Lots of times, they’d take three days and travel somewhere. They would always come home for a few days too. It was part of his routine. Off to school during the school year, Home at Christmas break, Terry visiting for a short bit, then, during spring break, the two of them were off traveling.

Terry was the only relative, the only adult for that matter who knew the real Patrick. Who knew the real reason he never had a real girlfriend. Katie and Juliana had no idea. He was sure of it. Now, whom was he supposed to talk to? Surely not his father.

Patrick wrapped his hands around his ringing cell phone. Katie. He just couldn’t talk. He dropped the phone down on the bed where it bounced and fell onto the hardwood floor. His chest still hurt. Would the heavy felling stay with hem always? The helpless feeling pressing harder against his lungs.

He forced himself to get up, walk down stairs and get a cup of milk. For unknown reasons, he heated the glass in the microwave before downing the warm white fluid. . His father stood quietly at the doorway. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered. Patrick glanced at his father ready to pounce; he didn’t care about Uncle Terry the way Patrick did. He was always complaining about Terry’s lack of responsibility, the two fought often. But when Patrick’s eyes met his father’s, he saw genuine pain. They were brothers. “’I did love him. His father’s words trying to fight tears. “I know you think I didn’t. But I did.”

Patrick’s lip quivered. Moved by his father’s open display of emotion, he walked over and hugged him tightly. Together, they sat down at the kitchen table. “You want some scramble eggs son?”

Food was the furthest thing from Patrick’s mind, but he agreed, for the sake of his father, who seemed to need some attention. From him. A rare moment, even through his newly raw grief, he sensed the importance of sharing a meal and emotion with his father.

“Did I ever tell you about the time when Terry got into a fight for me at school?”

“No dad, you didn’t.” He knew the fight story. Terry had told him. He had never heard his ftahter’s version.

“Well, I was a skinny kid. Surprise surpris.” He tried joking while he moved soggy eggs around in the bottome of the frying pan. “And well, in fifth grade, there was this kid, Benny. Yeah, well, he picks on me a lot. And I’m scared. He must weigh a hundred poinds. For a fifth grader that’s a lot. Especially back then, when so many kids weren’t overweight like they are nowadays.”

Patrick reached for two large plates from out of the cabinet. He through some bread into the toaster.

“Here Terry is, one grade younger than me and he can fight Always getting in fights after school. He know better than to throuw a punch on school property. No. Terry would wait until after the dismissal bell and follow ‘em home.

“Well anyway, this kid wa picking on me in the lunch line and Terry happens to see it and goes ballistic. This ki’s threatening me, trying to get me to throw a punch at him so he can nail me. But Terry steps in. Benny wasn’t afaid of Terry, being a small kid himself ya know.

“This ain’t your figh.” Benny says to Terry.

“But that’s my brother.” He says back.

“I’m okay.” I manage to squeal. But I wasn’t okay. I was really scared.

“terry could see it to, and he stepped right in and nailed Benny, right between the eyes. Got suspended for three days. Plus more to come from Mom and Dad. Terry never told the real story.”

“Why did you ride him so had dad?” Patrick couldn’t believe he had just asked.

“Cuz. He could have done anything he wanted. He was smart. I don’t know. I always thought he could do more. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was right.” He reached over and squeezed his Patrick’s arm.

Tears fell down his face. He didn’t bother to wipe them off.