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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1168442-A-Short-Story
Rated: E · Fiction · Drama · #1168442
Short story about a man's death on his kitchen floor.
Brian answered the phone on the second ring. Making his way up the stairs to his room he was greeted by the all too familiar voice of his daughter Claire.
“Dad?” She sounded anxious.
“Hey hun,” came his reply, as he reached into his closet to pull out one of the many neckties scattered within. “I’m just leaving the house now, and I’ll be there in a few minutes. What time did you say it starts?”
“It started ten minutes ago, actually.” Her voice held a hint of frustration, but no surprise.
Brian quickened his pace now as he finished getting ready and searched for his car keys. “I’m sorry dear, I’ve had a busy day and no time to prepare for tonight.”
“You mean, you forgot.”
“I didn’t forget, I just wasn’t sure when it started.”
“This is really important to me dad, the least you could do is be on time.”
Tonight is an important night, he thought to himself. My daughter, a Nobel prize nominee. He chuckled to himself as he thought this. Brian had always hoped his kids would grow up and be successful, he just never imagined how much so they would be.
“Well, I have to get to my table now. Just hurry up and try not to be too late.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the wor-” She hung up before he could finish.
Tossing the phone onto the bed, he located his keys by the floor and bounded down the hall to the stairs. Then it hit him. The doctors had warned Brian of his heart condition, but the heart attack still caught him off guard. Before he could catch his footing, he was falling and everything went black.

As the furnace came to life, the warmth began its continuous routine of pushing out the cold autumn air and replacing it with a more comfortable climate. The noise from the furnace jolted Brian into consciousness and he tried to recall where he was and what had happened. The pain hit him first. His heart was pounding faster than he could think, and his legs throbbed as the reality of what had occured settled in. His first reaction was to get to the phone on the wall. He had to get help. Brian was no doctor, but he could already tell his legs were broken. It’s not hard to do when you are sixty-eight years old. He looked for something he could use as leverage to pull himself up. Spotting a chair by his knees he made an effort to sit up on the floor. It was to no avail. He felt as if there was a pile of bricks on him. The pain! A trickle of blood ran into his left eye, informing him of a gash on his head, probably from hitting the floor. What is claire going to think if I don’t show up to the ceremony? Thoughts of regret began to fill his mind, and he was overwhelmed.

“Daddy?” Brian looked over by the stove to see his daughter standing there, her face giving an innocent and confused expression.
“What is it, hun?” Brian had always called her that.
“When is mommy coming home?”
It had only been days since his wife Lenore had passed away, and Brian was desperately trying to keep up with the house and his attitude for the sake of the kids. Claire was only six at the time, and reality of what had happened would take time to settle in.
“Hun, mommy is not going to be coming back here. She went to heaven, and we won’t see her until we go there someday.” Brian forced a smile to ease her doubts as he thought of what to say next. “That’s why you have to be a good girl. So you can see mommy again someday.” The words caught in his throat as he tried in vain to calm himself. The little girl stood beside him for a moment, and when she felt content there was nothing more he would say, she left the room.

The minutes began to pass, and Brian waited on the floor of his kitchen for salvation. He’d thought of every possible way to get help, but it was hopeless if he couldn’t move. The phone on the wall rang. Brian moved his head to face the wall, frantically trying to work something out. Help is so close, he thought. After the sixth ring the answering machine picked up and suddenly Brian heard Claire’s voice on the other end.
“Hey dad, it’s Claire again. I’m assuming you’re on your way by now.” Her voice was calm, with hint of apology. Any malice or sarcasm that may have been present, was lost somewhere in the phone lines. “I’m sorry I was short with you earlier, It’s just that I really want you to be here. It means so much to me that you are coming. I’ll see you soon then. Bye.”
The beep signified the end of the message. Brian was in tears now. She’s going to hate me after tonight, he thought.

Brian wiped blood and tears from his eyes, but he could not stop his crying. He was going to lay here and die, abandoning his children and the oath he swore to his wife when she died. Slipping once again out of consciousness, he thought back to her funeral.
“I promised you I would always be there for you.” Brian looked down at Lenore’s grave. “I failed you darling, and for that I can never forgive myself. This I will swear now to you and to God. I will always be there for our children. I will not let them down as I did you. And maybe after this, I will find your forgiveness, and mine. I Love you.”

It must have been hours now. Brian could not see the time from where he lay, but he assumed that Claire had accepted her award, and gone home shouting curses to her father the entire way. His thoughts were once again interrupted by the phone. By now he was content to live out the remainder of his life on the floor of his house in the suburbs of a nameless town. The beep again. This time it was his son’s voice, always the happier of the trio, as if everyday was Christmas for him.
“Dad, it’s me. I just wanted to check up on you and the brat. I’m assuming you guys are out celebrating somewhere and all her dreams are coming true. I wish I could have gone tonight, but duty calls. Speaking of which, we won tonight. The college is telling me that if I keep up the good grades, and our team performs every game like we did tonight, then I’ll be a shoo-in at Harvard in two years. Well, I’m on gonna get some sleep now. Tell Claire hi and congrats. I love you.”
Brian was unconscious, a pool of tears, sweat and blood by his face. Dreaming came easy and the difference between reality and his own thoughts were becoming one.

Barely able to hear anything now, he thought he heard the phone ringing yet again. Of course now that he was unreachable, people would be calling. Amidst the beeping of the phone, his own heavy breathing, and the whirring of the fridge, he thought he heard Claire.
“The ceremony is over dad. Thanks for showing up. I probably shouldn’t tell you because I’m sure you don’t care, but I won. No thanks to you. Where did you go? Why didn’t you come?” She was shouting now and Brian’s heart couldn’t take the emotion. He began crying loudly and shouted for Claire. Nothing could have hurt him more than the words she was saying. How could he have failed not only his wife, but his children as well? Forgiveness would surely never find him in this dark place. Brian wanted to die. He couldn’t handle the sadness anymore. Lost in his own nightmare, Brian blended his conscious thoughts with dreams, and everything became a gray blur. He saw but wasn’t aware of the lights crossing the window signifying that someone had pulled into the driveway. Hours passed. Or seconds. It didn’t matter. It wasn't until he noticed tears falling that weren’t his, that he looked up. Claire raised her eyes to meet his, her hands firmly wrapped around him. She smiled, unable to speak the first words, and he returned her smile with more tears. After an unbearably long silence he managed to utter two words.
” I’m sorry.”
Claire bested him with three.
” I love you.”

They sat in silence together as he slowly slipped away. Claire would not let go. The last thing Brian remembered seeing was a man dressed all in white. Sirens in the distance hailed his departure.
© Copyright 2006 stuart james (amaranth at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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