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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1951477-Suzie
Rated: E · Other · Death · #1951477
A man reflects on the loss of a friend's wife and the feelings it brings.
         It had been just under 27 hours since James Cromwell had called him, yanking him out of the daze he had found himself in since leaving the hospital. God, that had only been, what, 14 hours before James had called asking of him. Simon couldn't quite believe all of this had happened in less than two days. So much longer it seemed now that he actually was aware of the time. He hadn't slept more than 4 or 5 hours since he had first walked in those hospital doors, and lack of sleep sure could mess with your sense of time. It fogged up the mind. A job that his ever growing age had been doing rather nicely on its own for the past decade or so. A shifting of weight on his feet caused him to look down at Suzie, his lovable old pup. Although her once shining black coat was now riddled with as much grey hair as there was on Simon's whole body, yes including coming out of his ears and nose, she would always be his pup. If Suzie thought her aging owner trundled along slowly enough on their morning walks, he could now sympathize with her. These past two days, he had been the hare to time's proverbial tortoise, and he was just sitting here waiting for it to catch up and win the race. But it seemed like he would keep on waiting, and so would James, Jimmy as he had always known him, would as well if he didn't get off his flabby butt and call him back.

         It shouldn't have been Jimmy calling Simon in the first place, but the other way around. Hell, it was Jimmy's wife that had just passed away. A stroke landing her in the hospital and then the morgue within hours of each other. Marlene hadn't even had the chance to see the ever growing pile of flowers that had already been stacked neatly by one of the many nurses. Flowers that had been bought and delivered immediately, all of the friends knowing that it was time for another one of their beloved companions to leave them behind. To leave us all behind waiting for our turn. That's the damnedest thing about being old. You get to the point where death is never really forgotten. It's like knowing you have a dentist appointment in a couple of days and you don't quite remember when, but you cannot forget it, so the thought is always there just lurking. No those flowers would never be seen by their intended recipient, she hadn't even opened her eyes once. They would just sit in the corner and turn a dull ashen color, devoid of life, as all of it had been sucked out with the passing of Marlene. Simon had been outside the door when it happened. Had wanted to be inside but couldn't. It was just family, and Jimmy and Marlene had always had a large one. The youngest of the grandkids was still at a tender enough age that she hadn't grasped the seriousness of what was happening, just sat there amongst the flowers coloring, while the others stood and wept. Jimmy, quietest of all with his tears, but one look at his face and you knew the pain he felt was unimaginable. That no matter how hard he cried, it would be but a faint echo of what he himself felt in his empty chest. That's why it should have been Simon calling his best friend of going on 70 years now, instead of the other way around. Even if it was the latter calling to ask a favor. Not even a favor, but just calling to ask, would Simon be a pallbearer. Would he speak at the funeral? It was a question to be expected, and he knew that he had been expecting it in some crevice of his slowly working mind, but nonetheless he hadn't been able to answer then. And he still did not want to answer now.

         James Cromwell, otherwise known as Jimmy to Simon and Marlene and the rest of their brood, had been sprung unwantedly into Simon's life when they were only 10 years old. Thinking on it now, he doesn't know why all of their other friends, and there was a decent sized group of them who ate dinner and attended local shows together, although the members had begun to pass away one at a time recently, hadn't called his best friend Jimmy. To all of them he had always been James, or at most Jim, but that was only after a couple of beers had been tossed back on a fishing trip, or a biweekly poker night. But to Simon, the boy who had walked across the street 70 years ago, although tugged might be a more apt description, had peeked out from behind his mom's billowing flower printed dress long enough to say "Hi, I'm Jimmy," and that is what he always had been. Simon had been born and bred in Auburn, a smallish town, bordering on the edge of medium, and proud to boot. It was all he'd known up to that point in his life of meeting the new boy from across the street. But Jimmy had been born up in Chicago. Even though he was too young to greatly appreciate what he had up there, he had known from the moment his parents had said they were moving south a couple hours, that they'd be surrounded by farms, that he would be greatly missing out. Their forced enthusiasm had failed to catch, and it had been a sullen boy who had climbed onto the train for the first time and headed off to his new home. But when he had discovered there was a boy living right across the street from him, a boy the same age that had a bike that was as shiny a red as his was a dark, he liked to think of it as majestic, blue, the town started to grow on him. It also helped that his parents seemed nicer here, letting him play outside until it was dark. Baseball games stretching on for hours. Him and the neighbor boy Simon hiking and fishing all day. He had warmed to the place and soon grew to love it. Simon and Jimmy became inseparable, going off to college together, moving back to Springfield, the city closest to their hometown, and even carpooling to work. Although they worked in separate buildings, Jimmy as a sportswriter for the city's paper, and Simon as an accountant, the buildings were on adjacent streets and they valued the morning rides together. It had been on one of those morning rides that Jimmy had first told Simon about Marlene. About this new receptionist who had come in and caught just about every guys eye.

         He felt something crawling down his hand and tried to swat it away, fearing it was a spider, god how he hated spiders, before looking down and seeing a tear glistening there. Simon had triggered his internal waterworks, at least water could get out of one of his orifices without a problem regardless of age, thinking back on it all. He hadn't met to wander down memory lane, that's what dinner nights with the group of friends was for. Passing around pictures, telling old tales, spinning them fresh each time to keep them alive. He didn't need that now. He had been meaning to call Jimmy back, to give him an answer, and then lo and behold here he was sitting in his beat up leather recliner right next to the phone crying. "What am I doing?" wondered aloud for only Suzie to hear. And if she heard she didn't give it even a trifle of a thought, not even cocking her ears to her masters words. A chime from the clock caught his attention though, damn objects always capture our interest, we're trained, like whose-was-its dogs? Pavlock..Polav...something or other he'd read an article on. But heeding the clock's call he saw another hour had passed, vanished in the past. 28 hours now since he had called. Almost a day and a half since he had walked out those doors. He had hugged Jimmy, had been the first non-family member to do so, had hugged all of their kids as well, and then strode out the door. He had moved as briskly as a man his age could move. Suzie would have been hard kept to keep pace if it had been one of their romps through the neighborhood. But he had to get out of that place. He hadn't wanted to cry in front of them all, not as much as he knew he was going to. Striding out the door, fumbling for his keys through the already blurring of his eyes, he had hardly slammed the car door shut behind him before he had broken apart. That's how the first hour had been spent by Simon, hunched over in an overheated car that he couldn't feel, crying out in anguish at the death of his love.

         Simon had first met Marlene at his own birthday party, several months after she had become a spoken presence in his life via Jimmy. Simon had been doomed from the start. Knowing Jimmy was one to exaggerate a tad, he had listened kindly as he spun tales of a breathtaking beauty that evidently floated around the office, distributing memos and collecting hearts, all at the same time. Had listened more intently when Jimmy had described his first date with this magical woman, how he had finally won her over and spent a whole two weeks pay taking her out to the nicest place in town he knew. But all of what had been told to him had failed to capture the sheer wonder that was standing before him, wishing him a happy birthday, as Jimmy did the introductions. He had forgotten that night was supposed to be about him and had spent the whole time getting to know her. With each word, Simon nailed his coffin shut, and never once did he care. After that night, Jimmy, Marlene, and Simon had been tight as could be. Always going out to a show or dinner together. Simon would occasionally bring a date, but never one that lasted for more than a month or two. Never one that compared to the girl holding fast to his best friend's arm. And Jimmy was his best friend. A best friend who had found the perfect girl and had been smitten just as Simon himself had. He couldn't take that away from him, couldn't even try. But his love did not and could not go away. He had been the best man at their wedding and hadn't brought a date. Had thrown a weekly dinner at his house, just the three of them, stopping even the pretense of trying to find a different girl for himself, only the first in a long line of Suzie's to lay at his feet. He had gone on loving her up until the doctor had walked out of the room shaking his head 32 hours ago, and by golly he loved her still now. That's why he hadn't been able to answer Jimmy's request of him when he had called. Simon didn't know if he could look down at the love of his life as he carried her to her grave. Didn't know if he could say a few words about how loving of a wife she had been to his best friend. He had stood by all his life, couldn't he have some semblance of her now. Now that she was gone. The clock ticked ticked away and Suzie let out a little whimper in her sleep and Simon knew he couldn't let another hour pass. Couldn't keep counting the time, keeping track of it. He reached for the phone and called.

         Climbing out of the car was a task that got more difficult with age. But Simon felt as if the gravity was stronger here at St. Mary's Cathedral, for it felt as if he could hardly stand straight, let alone stand up as he stared up at the massive stone building where the funeral would take place. But stand up he did, wishing he wasn't so proud as to not use a can. He was old, these past couple of days had aged him even worse, and right now he would take any support he could get. Trudging up the steps he avoided eye contact avidly, not wanting to see anyone before he took his seat and waited for his turn to step to the pulpit and speak a few words. Words that had been hard to find, that had been practiced repeatedly in the mirror above his sink. It was never tough thinking of words to describe Marlene, he could do that in his sleep, and often had in younger days, but those were selfish words. And today he was still here for Jimmy. For Jimmy and Marlene and their whole family. He had almost made it to his seat, he didn't want to be quite at the front, when a familiar hand grabbed his shoulder. He knew it was Jimmy before he was embraced by him, both men crying softly. "Thank you for doing this Simon, thank you so much." Jimmy stared at him, seemingly intent on a goal that was unknown to Simon. "I know you didn't really want to do this, but I felt like you had too. I felt like I owed it to you buddy. I know how much you loved her, I always have. And I just wanted to say that she loved you too, genuinely. I was just the lucky bastard that got to her first. But I wanted you to get to say goodbye, to see her last. You more than deserve that." With that Jimmy pulls him back in for another hug, longer this time, and then hearing his name called by other mourners, he gives Simon a pat on the back and heads off. The words come easier for Simon now when he is called to talk. Never a fan of speaking in front of crowds, he barely notices there is anyone in the room. And although he could hardly stand walking into the church, he can march out strongly carrying the casket. As it sinks down into the ground, into the plot next to the one that Jimmy will no doubt occupy before too much time has passed, Simon can feel time catching up to him for the first time in days. He loved her. And she loved him.



© Copyright 2013 Tyler C. (tcamero2 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1951477-Suzie