Hospice
Hospice
The last remnants of twilight submitting to the starless sky glowed through the solitary window of corner bar. A slim man sat on a stool across the room from that window, his empty gaze focused on it as he thumbed his cigarette. Near him, the jukebox thumped out Styx’ Grand Illusion; the vibrations pulsing through him like a heart beat. He exhaled into the smoke, hardly disturbing the cloud that had accumulated.
“Another beer, Trav?” a voice said.
Travis’ eyes focused on the bartender, “No thanks. I know my limit now,” he said as he stood up.
“Plan on paying for this?” the bartender said, waving his hand over the dozen empty bottles at Travis’ spot.
“Put it on my tab,” Travis mumbled as dropped his cigarette in the ashtray and stepped through the door.
As if it were miles away, the frigid air touched Travis’ numb face. He pulled his wool cap down over his forehead, flipped up the collar on his brown deerskin-leather coat, and rubbed his unshaven face hard with his hands. Drawing another breath of solace from his cigarette, he sat down on the curb that he knew should have felt icy. His head sank like a lead weight. The view of the street spun in front of him. He waited for the darkness to overwhelm him. He prayed for it.
Slowly and shaking, he took a tattered photo out of his coat pocket and clutched it with both hands.
“Mom…Dad...Jeff…”Travis said to the image, “Please come back…I’m sorry.”
Travis saw the street before him become obscured by his tears, but he did not feel them as they ran down his face. He gasped for air as the dam gave way, and he slumped to his side. He prayed for the darkness again. He prayed to join his family. The pain and tears cradled Travis to unconsciousness as he pressed the photo to his chest.
He was twenty-two again. One of his friends had just turned twenty-one, so Travis and several others took him out to get smashed at the local club. Travis had been the designated driver that night, but managed to sneak in his fair share of drinks. When it came time to leave, his friends decided to walk, but Travis needed to get home soon and he lived farther from the club than they did. Hesitantly, he climbed into his pickup truck and started it. He took off slowly, trying to focus the world around him. He knew it was a bad idea, but he thought he could make it.
Travis was almost home when his headlights went out. He saw the night suddenly leap at him and he panicked, pressing down on the pedal he thought was the brake. His truck barreled though the dark intersection that was ahead. There was a flash from the headlights of another car as skidded into the intersection. Time slowed to a crawl as Travis glanced at the vehicle and through his adrenaline and inebriation, he recognized it from somewhere. Then he saw the driver in the glare of the lights. Dad! He screamed in his mind. His eyes shot to the passenger, Mom!
Then there was nothing but metal crushing metal and screams. Travis awoke two days later in the hospital, breathing through a respirator and staring into a bright light.
“Travis?” a doctor said from a chair next to him.
He turned to the doctor, his eyes begging him not to say what he was about to.
“I’m sorry…but I’m afraid that your mother, father, and brother are-“
There was a crash of garbage cans in a nearby alley. Travis awoke to something wet hitting his face. Fighting the weight of his eyelids, a furry brown face exploded into focus. Too dazed to be surprised, he groaned and swatted a hand at the trespasser. The beast persisted, rubbing its chilly black nose into Travis’ cheek. Propping his body up on his left arm, Travis struggled to sit up. Pain shot out of the dissipating numbness in his arm. He squinted through the darkness and tried to ignore the throbbing of every blood vessel in his brain.
Dog, he thought.
The dog sat on the curb next to him, panting as it grinned at Travis. White teeth pierced the darkness like ivory knives in a pile of coal.
“What do you want, dog?” Travis asked, hoping the dog would find another soul to beg food from.
To Travis’ surprise, the dog barked in response. It moved closer and sat back down. A car drove by them, its lights revealing the animal’s appearance. Fur ravaged by filth and battles coated the canine and would have been a light brown if it was cleaned well enough. Its ears were down, one of them missing a piece the size of a quarter, and deep cuts scarred the area around its eyes. Its nose had been torn open, but had long since healed, leaving a chasm across the nostrils. Travis glanced down quickly to notice that it was missing a paw; in it’s wake, a raw stump pressing on the ground, but not bleeding. The dogs eyes shimmered in the lights of the passing car, as if it said to Travis, “It’s ok, I have three left.”
“You look worse than I ever could,” he said, coughing and shifting his weight to the other arm, “Go away, dog.”
The dog inched forward to rest its head on Travis’ leg, but he pushed it away.
“Do I look like I have food? Go!”
The dog whimpered and tugged at his sleeve, its eyes begging him.
Travis shivered in the cold; the drunkenness was subsiding to a weary buzz. He looked at his hands and realized the photo was no longer there. His eyes desperately scanned the sidewalk where he passed out. Where’d it go, his mind raced. Checking his pockets delivered sorrowful results, and he surrendered to the pull of gravity, falling backwards to lie on the sidewalk.
As if the dog could read his mind, it placed the photo on his chest and barked quietly. It sat back down, the happy grin still fixed on its face. It barked again, raising its disabled leg in a pawing motion.
“Come here, dog,” Travis groaned as he gently placed the stillframe of his past into his coat pocket once more. The dog obediently came forward. Using the dog as a support, Travis struggled to his feet.
“I suppose you’re looking for a favor in return,” he said to it, steadily lighting another cigarette and bringing it to his lips.
The dog wagged its tail in high hopes.
“I should leave you here. You didn’t let me die,” he pointed the cigarette at the dogs face.
It replied with a joyous panting.
Travis started off down the sidewalk, staggering every few steps, “Follow me, you bastard.”
It barked with gratitude and limped to his side.
“I hope you like Spaghetti O’s. I wasn’t expecting company,” Travis said, eying the canine to his left. Woof, he thought to himself.
The last remnants of twilight submitting to the starless sky glowed through the solitary window of corner bar. A slim man sat on a stool across the room from that window, his empty gaze focused on it as he thumbed his cigarette. Near him, the jukebox thumped out Styx’ Grand Illusion; the vibrations pulsing through him like a heart beat. He exhaled into the smoke, hardly disturbing the cloud that had accumulated.
“Another beer, Trav?” a voice said.
Travis’ eyes focused on the bartender, “No thanks. I know my limit now,” he said as he stood up.
“Plan on paying for this?” the bartender said, waving his hand over the dozen empty bottles at Travis’ spot.
“Put it on my tab,” Travis mumbled as dropped his cigarette in the ashtray and stepped through the door.
As if it were miles away, the frigid air touched Travis’ numb face. He pulled his wool cap down over his forehead, flipped up the collar on his brown deerskin-leather coat, and rubbed his unshaven face hard with his hands. Drawing another breath of solace from his cigarette, he sat down on the curb that he knew should have felt icy. His head sank like a lead weight. The view of the street spun in front of him. He waited for the darkness to overwhelm him. He prayed for it.
Slowly and shaking, he took a tattered photo out of his coat pocket and clutched it with both hands.
“Mom…Dad...Jeff…”Travis said to the image, “Please come back…I’m sorry.”
Travis saw the street before him become obscured by his tears, but he did not feel them as they ran down his face. He gasped for air as the dam gave way, and he slumped to his side. He prayed for the darkness again. He prayed to join his family. The pain and tears cradled Travis to unconsciousness as he pressed the photo to his chest.
He was twenty-two again. One of his friends had just turned twenty-one, so Travis and several others took him out to get smashed at the local club. Travis had been the designated driver that night, but managed to sneak in his fair share of drinks. When it came time to leave, his friends decided to walk, but Travis needed to get home soon and he lived farther from the club than they did. Hesitantly, he climbed into his pickup truck and started it. He took off slowly, trying to focus the world around him. He knew it was a bad idea, but he thought he could make it.
Travis was almost home when his headlights went out. He saw the night suddenly leap at him and he panicked, pressing down on the pedal he thought was the brake. His truck barreled though the dark intersection that was ahead. There was a flash from the headlights of another car as skidded into the intersection. Time slowed to a crawl as Travis glanced at the vehicle and through his adrenaline and inebriation, he recognized it from somewhere. Then he saw the driver in the glare of the lights. Dad! He screamed in his mind. His eyes shot to the passenger, Mom!
Then there was nothing but metal crushing metal and screams. Travis awoke two days later in the hospital, breathing through a respirator and staring into a bright light.
“Travis?” a doctor said from a chair next to him.
He turned to the doctor, his eyes begging him not to say what he was about to.
“I’m sorry…but I’m afraid that your mother, father, and brother are-“
There was a crash of garbage cans in a nearby alley. Travis awoke to something wet hitting his face. Fighting the weight of his eyelids, a furry brown face exploded into focus. Too dazed to be surprised, he groaned and swatted a hand at the trespasser. The beast persisted, rubbing its chilly black nose into Travis’ cheek. Propping his body up on his left arm, Travis struggled to sit up. Pain shot out of the dissipating numbness in his arm. He squinted through the darkness and tried to ignore the throbbing of every blood vessel in his brain.
Dog, he thought.
The dog sat on the curb next to him, panting as it grinned at Travis. White teeth pierced the darkness like ivory knives in a pile of coal.
“What do you want, dog?” Travis asked, hoping the dog would find another soul to beg food from.
To Travis’ surprise, the dog barked in response. It moved closer and sat back down. A car drove by them, its lights revealing the animal’s appearance. Fur ravaged by filth and battles coated the canine and would have been a light brown if it was cleaned well enough. Its ears were down, one of them missing a piece the size of a quarter, and deep cuts scarred the area around its eyes. Its nose had been torn open, but had long since healed, leaving a chasm across the nostrils. Travis glanced down quickly to notice that it was missing a paw; in it’s wake, a raw stump pressing on the ground, but not bleeding. The dogs eyes shimmered in the lights of the passing car, as if it said to Travis, “It’s ok, I have three left.”
“You look worse than I ever could,” he said, coughing and shifting his weight to the other arm, “Go away, dog.”
The dog inched forward to rest its head on Travis’ leg, but he pushed it away.
“Do I look like I have food? Go!”
The dog whimpered and tugged at his sleeve, its eyes begging him.
Travis shivered in the cold; the drunkenness was subsiding to a weary buzz. He looked at his hands and realized the photo was no longer there. His eyes desperately scanned the sidewalk where he passed out. Where’d it go, his mind raced. Checking his pockets delivered sorrowful results, and he surrendered to the pull of gravity, falling backwards to lie on the sidewalk.
As if the dog could read his mind, it placed the photo on his chest and barked quietly. It sat back down, the happy grin still fixed on its face. It barked again, raising its disabled leg in a pawing motion.
“Come here, dog,” Travis groaned as he gently placed the stillframe of his past into his coat pocket once more. The dog obediently came forward. Using the dog as a support, Travis struggled to his feet.
“I suppose you’re looking for a favor in return,” he said to it, steadily lighting another cigarette and bringing it to his lips.
The dog wagged its tail in high hopes.
“I should leave you here. You didn’t let me die,” he pointed the cigarette at the dogs face.
It replied with a joyous panting.
Travis started off down the sidewalk, staggering every few steps, “Follow me, you bastard.”
It barked with gratitude and limped to his side.
“I hope you like Spaghetti O’s. I wasn’t expecting company,” Travis said, eying the canine to his left. Woof, he thought to himself.