One Life to Live

Jeff meets an old man at a bar who gives him some valuable life advice. Will he follow it?

1970

On the outskirts of town, a bar sat next to a barely-used county road. Its neon sign flickered in the dark, inviting the occasional driver to stop in. Despite its relative remoteness, the parking lot was filled with cars, making finding a spot difficult for Jeff as he pulled into the lot. Today was his eighteenth birthday, and he wanted to celebrate with a few drinks before he had to report to the draft board in a few days. His draft number had come up and soon he'd be training to go to war.

He found an empty space on the side of the bar next to some trash cans. As he walked toward the entrance, he could hear the patrons inside talking loudly and singing along with the Led Zeppelin song playing on the jukebox. A man seated on a stool looked him over as he entered and asked, "How old are you kid?"

"Just turned eighteen sir,"

The man eyed him with suspicion but waved him on in. "Don't start any trouble. As long as you can pay, you're good to go."

Jeff reached into his pocket. "What's the cover?"

"No cover tonight. You don't cause any trouble, then we won't have any trouble."

"Yes sir, thank you sir!" Jeff scanned the bar. Cigarette smoke filled the air, the lights were dim, and the music was loud. A group of older men surrounded a pair of pool tables in the back of the bar, and the sound of pool balls snapped through the air. Laughter. Singing. Loud arguments over war stories. Jeff felt at home.

Weaving between the tables, Jeff made his way toward the bar and sat on a stool next to an old man nursing a drink. The bartender walked over and asked, "What'll it be kid? A glass of milk?"

"I'm eighteen. A beer please."

"If you're eighteen then I'm a fish. Let me see your ID." the bartender replied skeptically.

Jeff reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled his license out. The bartender glanced at it briefly then waved it away.

"That's good enough for me. Now we're on the record of me having asked and seen your ID." He poured a glass of beer and set it in front of Jeff.
"Here's your beer."

Jeff looked at the drink and said, "But you didn't ask me which one I wanted."

The bartender gave him a stern look. "Do you want a beer or not? You get what I give you."

Jeff lifted the glass and took a drink. It was the best beer he'd had in his young life. "This is perfect, sir. Thanks."

"That's what I thought. Don't call me sir or I'll kick you out myself." The bartender walked away before Jeff could ask what he should call him.

He nursed his drink as he looked around the smoky bar. A group of girls around his age sat at a table nearby. One in particular caught his eye and he pondered how to approach her.

A shaky voice interrupted his thoughts. The old man was speaking. "So this is how you spend your birthday?"

Jeff turned to face the old man. He looked to be in his seventies or eighties, Jeff wasn't sure. His white hair looked as if it hadn't seen a comb in decades, and his face was deeply carved with wrinkles. A faint scar cut across his cheek. "I just wanted to enjoy it before I gotta go to the Army."

"Got drafted, did you?"

Jeff nodded and took another swig from his glass. The beer was strong, he could feel the alcohol having an effect on him already. "Got the letter in the mail today. I gotta report in a few days."

"What's your name, son? I'm Jay."

"Jeff." He raised his glass and drank again.

"Well, Jeff. I remember when I got my letter a long time ago. That's how I got this," he ran a finger over the scar.

"You were in the War?"

Jay nodded and examined his shot glass. "Bartender! Fill this up!"

Jeff turned to look at the girls again. The one he'd been eyeing was kissing a guy who was clearly her boyfriend. Disappointed, he looked down at his drink. It didn't appear to have emptied any, despite his having had a few swigs from it.

"Can an old guy give you some advice son? You're about to go into the... Army? Navy? Marines?"

Jeff was about to respond, but Jay continued, "It doesn't matter which branch they put you in. If they're drafting you, you'll be sent to the jungles over there in 'Nam. You should've enlisted before your number came up."

"Yeah, that's what my dad said. He served in WWII and Korea in the Marines. He called me a stupid idiot when I got the letter today."

Jay looked wistful. "My father called me a stupid idiot when I got drafted too. Funny how we don't listen to our parents when we're young. Maybe you'll listen to me. You're going to see and experience things that are going to scar you for life. Not gonna sugarcoat it. War is not glamorous. It's hell.

"You're going to want to experience everything you can before you go. Let me tell you that it's not worth starting a relationship six days before you get on that bus to Leonard Wood. What is worth it, is taking life one day at a time. That's how you're going to survive 'Nam. That's how you're going to meet the love of your life.

Jay drank the shot of whiskey he'd been nursing. "When you meet her, you make sure she knows that she is the center of your world. You treat her like a precious gem. You love her like you never loved anyone before. You always put her first. You encourage her interests and ambitions. Treat her like a lady, not an object to be possessed. You do all that, you will have a long life filled with love. If you don't, then you will get nothing but resentment from her."

Pointing at the girls at the table, Jay continued, "None of them are it. Look at those girls. They came in here by themselves. Those guys they're rubbing up on were already here. Those girls aren't looking for love. What they think they're looking for is going to end up hurting them. None of those guys is going to treat any of them right. To them, those girls are just pieces of meat to be had; and the sad thing is that the girls think the same.

"You might get a piece of tail from one of them tonight, but that's all you're gonna get. If you're lucky, that is. They might give you something you don't want."

Jeff looked over at them, then back at Jay. He lifted his glass and drank the courage it contained. "I'll take my chances," he said as he got up and walked toward the table.
 

1975

Jeff nervously paced around the waiting room. He'd been in here for hours with only a few occasional updates. Somewhere beyond the double doors, Patty was giving birth and he wasn't allowed to be with her because they weren't married. He'd proposed, but she said she wasn't ready. Even when she announced her pregnancy, she said she wasn't ready.

"Mr. Sullivan? I have some news," a nurse said from behind him.

Jeff turned around. The nurse had a smile on her face. "Would you like me to tell you what the baby is, or would you rather see for yourself?" She pushed the door open and invited him in.

"Tell me on the way!" Jeff felt giddy as he hurried through the door.

"It's a boy."

Jeff stopped. "A boy? That's wonderful!"

The nurse gently pushed him along. "Keep going, young man. Your son and his mother are waiting for you in room 12."

As Jeff entered the room, he saw Patty laying on the hospital bed, clearly exhausted. She'd been in labor for nearly 12 hours. She was holding a blue blanket and looking down at it with love in her eyes.

"How is he?" Jeff asked gently as he pushed the bangs away from her eyes.

"Sleeping right now. Want to hold him?" She held the baby out to Jeff.

He took his son from her arms and gingerly cradled him in his. Looking down at the sleeping boy's face, Jeff said quietly, "He's beautiful. You did a great job."

Patty stroked Jeff's arm. "You helped," she said with a sly smile.

"I want to help more. Let's get married. He shouldn't grow up without his parents being married. Think of what he's gonna go through when the other kids at school find out."

"Jeff," Patty said, "I've already made my decision." She squeezed his arm. "Look at my hand."

He looked down, and to his surprise she was wearing the ring he'd given her the last time he'd proposed. At the time he insisted that she hold onto the ring in case she changed her mind.

"For real? For real, real?"

"Like you said, Jeffy's going to need both of us."

"Jeffy?"

"Yeah, I thought we'd name him after you."

Jeff gazed at his son and decided then and there that his world couldn't be more perfect. He had his girl. He had a boy. He was going to do everything he could for little Jeffy.
 

1985

"I don't understand why I can't do this! It's just a couple of classes at night, Jeff!" Patty glared at her husband. He'd been drinking again and had shot down her idea of getting a degree.

"The kids need you here, not at some stupid school. I make enough to support us, you don't need to go to school. What could you possibly gain from night school? You don't need to take classes to know how to take care of the house and kids!"

"I could be more than just a housewife! We could get a bigger house if I earned a degree."

Anger filled Jeff. "What's wrong with the house I got us?" he asked menacingly.

"Nothing! But with three kids and another one on the way, we're running out of space."

"And how is that my fault? You're the one who forgot to take the pill. That's how we got the first three. You just conveniently forget to take a simple little pill and suddenly I have another mouth to feed. Now you want to abandon your duties and make me do your housework while you gallivant with college students? Forget it! Your place is here!"

Patty slapped Jeff across the face. His scar turned a deep red from the rage building up in him. "You're not the man I thought you were if that's how you view me!" she shouted.

Jeff shoved her to the floor. "You're fucking lucky my daddy raised me not to hit women, or this fist would be meeting your mouth."

Patty glared at Jeff from the floor. "I gave you fifteen years of my life. You were a charming boy when you came up to me at the bar. I waited for you while you were fighting overseas. I waited until I was sure that you were the one before I said yes. Then when I finally did say yes, you never let me be who I wanted to be! It's always about you and never about me! It's never even been about the kids! You only think of yourself!"

"Well if that's how you feel, then maybe I should go. Let's see how you do without me. You'll come crawling back within a week." Jeff yelled.
"Go. Just, go. You never had any faith in me. You don't know who I am. You never did."

Jeff clenched his fist and he shook with unbridled anger. He stepped toward Patty to hit her, but stopped himself and turned around to leave.
 

2035

His iPhone rang incessantly, waking him up. Jeff looked at the screen and saw it was Jeffrey calling. At sixty years old, that boy still had no sense of when it was appropriate to be calling.

"It's 11 at night, Jeffrey," he said when he answered the call.

"I know, Dad. It's important." Jeffrey's voice cracked.

"What is so god-damned important that you need to wake me up at this hour? I'm nearly 83 years old. I'm too old for this." he said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Mom passed away an hour ago."

Jeff's world stopped.

The memories flooded in: seeing her for the first time at the bar, the time they spent together before he shipped out for basic training, the birth of each of the kids, the breakup, the make up, the second breakup, the second make up, the final breakup. He had never appreciated her for who she was. It wasn't until they broke up for the last time a decade ago that he realized what an amazing woman she was.

He'd spent the last ten years trying to be a good friend to her, if not a partner. But she'd finally learned to keep him at arm's length. Her last words to him just a week ago echoed through his thoughts, "You never saw me. You only saw what you wanted me to be."

"Dad? Are you there?" Jeffrey had been talking and Jeff hadn't heard a word.

"I gotta go. I'll call you back." He ended the call, took a deep breath, and then sobbed into his hands. The years he could have had rushed past. He'd wasted them all by being selfish, and now it was too late.

"Fuck it." Jeff had been sober for twenty-five years, but what he needed most now was a drink.
 

The Bar

As he pulled up, he was surprised to see that the old bar hadn't changed. The parking lot was nearly full, but there were still a few spaces available. He parked his truck near the entrance and headed in. A bouncer sat on a stool just inside the door.

"What's the cover?" he asked.

"No cover tonight." The bouncer waved him in. "Bar's over there."

Jeff looked around. The pool tables were in the same spot, cigarette smoke still filled the air, and the sounds of classic Black Sabbath rocked the joint. He made his way over to the bar and sat down.

The bartender came up and asked, "What'll it be pops?"

"Whiskey, neat." He looked closely at the bartender. "Hey, did your father or grandfather work here?"

"My father owned the bar for a long time. I took ownership of it a few years ago."

Jeff nodded. "That would explain why you look familiar. I met my wife here 65 years ago."

The bartender gave him a strange look. "I see," he said as he filled the shot glass.

Jeff looked down at the shot glass. Twenty-five years of sobriety. Patty had been the only thing that had been keeping him sober, even through their breakups and rough patches. All of which, he realized, were caused by him.

High pitched laughs interrupted his thoughts. He turned and watched a gaggle of young girls walk in and sit down at a table. "Damn, I must be really old. They can't possibly be old enough to be in here." he thought.

He turned his focus back to his shot glass. Twenty-five years of sobriety. Another group walked in. The bar was filling up fast.

Soon, a young man sat down on the stool next to him.

"What'll it be kid? A glass of milk?" the bartender asked.

"I'm eighteen. A beer please."

Jeff turned his head toward his bar neighbor and to his shock, he saw himself. Dumbfounded, he looked around. Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" was playing on a jukebox. A calendar pinned to the wall was showing May 1970. There wasn't a cell phone in sight. The girls who had come in looked familiar. He stared at one in particular. It was Patty.

The bartender glanced at him and nodded.

Tapping his younger self on the shoulder, Jeff asked, "So this is how you spend your birthday?"

2,712 words.