Well,here I sit a bottle of scotch in one hand and a burning cigarette in the other;I have no regrets over my deeds or decisions, but still wonder am I doingright?
Ican't believe that it was just... what day is this, Tuesday? It was just sixdays ago almost to the day that I had my conversation with him and agreed towait a week. So here I am, in a by the hour dump of a hotel looking at a bottleof scotch that is slowly getting empty and a cigarette pack doing the same. There’sa loud banging at the door and the manager is screaming that my time is up forthe money I gave him. I take a drag and crush out the cigarette. I get up fromthe chair, the room starts to spin, I grab the table for support, and the roomsteadies out. I reach for my long black coat, work at getting my arm inside andput it on. Then with bottle in hand I walk out of the room, I stumble down thestairs and out into the cold night. I don't feel the cold though; the scotchkeeps me nice and toasty. I go to grab for a cigarette, take another swig fromthe bottle, and realize that without knowing it I have killed it off, and I'mout of smokes. I drop the bottle on the ground and look around, yep, time isdefinitely moving strangely for me tonight. I thought I had just walked out ofthe hotel but now I am 39 blocks north from it. I am leaning on an oldapartment building for support and the hotel where I was at is exactly 39blocks away. Now how do I know that? Ilook around with my head pressed against the cool walls. The doorman sees mestanding out in front of his building. I don't look like I belong here. Hecomes out, tells me to move on, I wave at him and turn to go. As I do I startto fall backwards and he tries to catch me; that is the last thing he does. As Istumble to stay on my feet I look down at the pile of dust as it slowly startsto blow away, that is all that is left of the doorman, Oh well I didn't meanto, but I have to do it to someone, else I wouldn't be doing my job. The onethat I have vowed to quit.
Ineed a drink; I stagger down the road to an ABC store and walk in, head for thescotches. Find a nice one for $50.00. I don't have a penny to my name, but that’sok, I can fix that. I take my scotch to the register standing in line withothers that are looking for liquid courage, I watch the register working, open,shut, open, shut; money in, money out all done with the futility of the actiongoing nowhere just like my job. As the last customer leaves, I walk up to thecounter and ask for a pack of smokes, as he hands them to me, our hands brushagainst each other, but it is enough. Ilook around; no one saw. I walk out front with my bottle and smokes, as I go Iturn around and touch the doors where they meet in the middle and the doorsbecome rusted shut. I open the bottle and take a long deep swig of the scotch.Ah, that hit the spot. Well I figure I'll go find him. I walk around for awhile trying to figure where he would be, Hospitals, maybe, Hospice, For sure.Funeral homes, probably not, but maybe the grave sides. Only trouble is, evenif I went to them, there would be no guarantee that he would be at that exactone. He moves around so much. Wonder if he would show up at the place where welast met. Better than anyplace else to look, I move to the office building,enter the elevator and press the 110th floor. The elevator starts to rise and Ilean against the back and take a swig of my scotch, look at the bottle andagain time has really passed I only have a quarter of the bottle left.
AgainI wonder if he is with me already, messing with my head. The doors of theelevator open and I move to open the door that says roof access, make my way upthe stairs to the roof. I stand at the edge; I look down the side of thebuilding. Then I take the last swig of the bottle killing it off. Looking downagain I hold the bottle over the edge and let it drop. It takes a while butsoon I see the glass bottle shatter and hear the sound of the breakage a secondor two later.
"Whatare you doing?" He asks. I turn around leaning against the kedge, Yep;there he is in all of his glory.
"Justwanted to say goodbye to someone, figured might as well be you as anyone."
Ipull my smokes out of my coat and try to light one.
"Yourdrunk He said with a stern look on his face.
I stand up a little straighter take a drag ofmy now lit cigarette and say "Nope. I passed drunk a while back, I amofficially plastered" and laugh at my own joke. I lean against the ledge Ireach for the tension wire holding the antennas and missing it stager as Islide down the wall. I start to laugh. I grab at the wall and wire slowly I getto my feet and he just stands there watching. "Thanks for the handup." I slur at him.
"Youknow what would happen if you touched me." He said
"Yeah,yeah, I know, it's been happening everywhere I go." I start to brushmyself off, when it hits him.
"Whatdo you mean where you go?"
"OhI have been to a lot of places this past week, usually two or three people arethere when I get there" I put a finger to my lips "but they won'tgive my secret away cause their gone when I leave."
"Whathave you done?" He said in fear
"Ohtouched a person here, a person there, mostly in cocktail lounges and bars anyplace I was. You know my job. Last place was an ABC store; I would have lefthim but didn’t have the 50 bucks for that nice scotch I just finishedoff." I turn to look at the city to see if there is any other place Iwanted to see, to be, I can’t think of one. I look down to the ground again. Guessit's time for it then...
'"So,you still haven't said what you’re doing up here." He said.
Istager back around and look at him, "Oh I thought that was clear. You saidto take a week to think about what I was doing and that is what I did. I wenthere, I went there looking and trying to see what you see, but couldn’t do it.So now I am going to do what you stopped me from doing last week." Islowly step up on an air conditioner unit and swaying get up on the ledge. Imove over to the right a bit rocking back and forth trying to keep mybalance."Was right about here wasn't it?" I ask as I look at him overmy shoulder.
"Yeahabout there, what am I going to tell the boss?" He asks with a bit of fearin his voice. He always hates to talk to him.
"Simpleenough" I say. "Tell him I was tired of doing my job and I finallydecided to quit."
"Butwhat will happen now?"He asks.
"Iguess you and the big guy will have to (Burp) 'scuse me, will have to figurethat out for yourselves." I slowly turn so as not to fall and look at him"No hard feelings, I just can't do this anymore. Tell Hope she should havean easier time of it soon, at least for a time, and tell the big guy I wasreally, really tired." I look out over the city. Goodbye Faith." Ilean forward, as I fall down to the ground below I think I hear "GoodbyeDeath" but with the wind and all I can’t be sure.