The tiny Mid City street bustled with throngs of reporters, law enforcement agents and curious onlookers as Chris inched his way through the bustling crowd toward Thomas.
Auntie and Felicia stood off to the side where paramedics administered a field checkup to Felicia. A counselor was speaking with Thomas’ aunt, suggesting proper post event steps that she felt necessary for Felicia.
Chris stared deeply and motionless at Thomas, eye to eye, before uttering a word.
Thomas began to cry as Chris placed his hand on Thomas’ shoulder, pulling him close. He held Thomas tight for a moment.
"I’m not going to lecture you if that’s what you’re worried about Thomas."
"Why not?" Thomas asked, waiting for Chris to verbally beat him senseless.
"I suspect that you got all the lecturing you need for one lifetime this afternoon," Chris replied. "Thomas," Chris sighed, "if this afternoon didn't convince you that your aunt and I are right, then I don’t know what will. But you need to understand something; we can’t force you to learn from it."
"I didn’t do anything directly Chris," Thomas began, almost begging for Chris' understanding. "C...I needed that money, so I let my boy use the house."
"How much?" Chris interrupted.
"How much what?" Thomas was confused by the question.
"I’m curious; how much money was Felicia’s life worth? How much fucking money did you get for putting you, your aunt and everyone within a block from here in harms way?" Chris calmly pressed.
"It’s not like that Chris."
"Yeah Thomas, it is like that...plain and simple," Chris scolded.
Chris fished through his wallet, fumbling through loose cash; Thomas wondered what he was looking for. Finally, Chris sifted out all the money from his wallet. Taking Thomas’ hand, he securely placed the cash in Thomas’ open palm.
"Here’s $400, it’s not much but I’m buying something with it right now, so you don’t have to pay me back," Chris informed.
"What are you buyin’ from me? Thomas asked.
"Your word. I'm also buying some time in hopes that you’ll take a few days to sit back and think, to realize how many good people are in your life, people who love you. Take this money and spend it. For that matter, take Felicia and your aunt on the town; come meet me for drinks, your treat by the way." Use the money to spend time with good friends and family and then sit back afterward and think about how nice it felt, how normal it really is," Chris advised. "Think about what life can be for you Thomas...that's what I'm buyin."
"I’ve fucked up so much Chris; how can I get a chance? Thomas threw his hands up in the air.
"I think you did this afternoon Thomas, and it made the news; pretty impressive don’t you think?"
Chris and Thomas stood silently for the span of a cigarette before Chris posed a simple question.
"How you gonna do things this time around?" Chris asked the same question as Thomas posed from his porch many months ago.
Thomas stomped out his cigarette and looked up at Chris for a moment before answering.
"Differently," he softly replied.
"I hope so Thomas," Chris smiled.
Chris was finishing up his work back at the station before heading out to see Erin when a booming voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Good job!" Howard congratulated, firmly gripping Chris’ shoulder from behind.
"Thanks Howard."
Howard laughed.
"What’s so damn funny?" Chris asked.
"I think you almost gave Joel a heart attack in that house today; he’s a nervous fuckin' wreck."
Chris laughed; "yeah, he probably wanted to kill me himself in there,"Chris concurred.
Howard’s tone turned serious. "Were you scared?"
"Shit yeah! I was absolutely scared," Chris admitted. "Being scared gave me strength," Chris explained.
"How so?" Howard’s curiosity peaked.
"Well, I’ve been worried and scared about lots of things for a while, stupid shit really. What happened in that house kind of put it into perspective I suppose," Chris explained, aimlessly scribbling on his desk calendar.
"Bigger things to worry about huh?" Howard surmised.
"Without a doubt Howard," Chris agreed, staring at his desk and then back to Howard. "Without a doubt," he reiterated with a slight smile.
"You know," Howard changed the subject, "the company flagship wants to talk with me about you tomorrow."
"Yeah?" Chris asked.
"What do you think I should tell them?"
Chris thought for a moment. Working at the network meant another move. Perhaps New York, Chicago or Los Angeles. It meant diving, too soon, back into a cut throat world that he’d chosen to leave. A world he left behind in order to find himself, to do things better. An exercise in futility thus far, but Chris had finally faced the past and had begun repairing.
Chris smiled up at Howard from his cubicle chair, thinking that which he thought he’d never say, much less feel again. "Tell them that I’m happy here."
Howard stared in disbelief at Chris for a moment; a smile crossed his wide, and usually grumpy, face. A moment that needed no words, Howard tacitly understood.
Chris closed his computer bag and rose from his desk. "See ya’ tomorrow Howard," Chris assured, slapping Howard on the shoulder as though it were just another day at the office.
Chris lightly tapped on Erin’s front door, peeking through a partially open window blind.
"Oh my God, hey!" Erin ran through the door and grabbed Chris. She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around him, holding him close and tight. No words exchanged; their body language spoke volumes.
"I was so worried I almost threw up," Erin anxiously announced.
"Yeah? You and me both," Chris laughed.
"Well, I’m glad you’re okay," she beamed.
"Well, I’m glad I didn’t throw up; it would have given Joel way too much to much to gossip about in the office," Chris assured.
"I’m making tea, come on in," Erin invited.
Chris sat on the sofa in the living room watching the 10pm news. He watched the lead story as his thoughts drifted.
"Chris, this is Brenda," the thick, southern voice on the other end of the phone was that of nurse Brenda Franklin. She was the lead nurse in charge of caring for his mother at the assisted living facility.
During his mother’s illness, Chris balanced a hectic schedule between two cities. An 800 mile, 12 hour divide seemed like the Great Wall of China to Chris. He’d made the drive so often that he could tell you the best and worst exits. He knew the exits with the cleanest restrooms, the best variety of food, the cheapest gas...All of it. He was even intimately familiar with the loneliest stretches of highway through Mississippi and Alabama; stretches that seemed like an eternity.
The landscape was rife with open fields, occasionally obscured by pine trees which lined mile after mile of a seemingly never ending interstate. The occasional one horse town exit with one locally owned gas station and a grease pit diner served as brief respites from the lonesome journey; Chris knew them all.
"You need to get back here; I promised you that we’d tell you when it was time and everything we see indicates that it’s time," Nurse Franklin solemnly advised.
The words that Chris knew he’d hear someday on the other end of a cell phone; they were dreaded words that had held him hostage during his mom‘s illness. He remained in constant contact while he was away from Virginia, checking in at all hours of the day and night.
Chris knew every detail about his mother’s care, right down to how much, or how little, she ate each day. He knew his mother’s blood pressure, he knew every vital sign and every blood cell count.
Sleep never impeded his faithful vigil. Deep into the night, each night, he set his alarm so he could call for an update.
Sometimes he’d ask his mother questions to which he clearly knew the answers:
"How much did you eat for dinner tonight?" He’d ask.
"Oh…I ate all of it, it was good. We had baked chicken, green beans, cornbread and mashed potatoes," His mom convincingly replied.
Knowing that she had only eaten half of her cornbread and three bites of potatoes, Chris held back tears on the other end of the phone. Realizing two truths; her appetite was waning, something the hospice service warned him about as the end was near. Secondly, even at the end, his mother tried not to worry him; she wanted him to concentrate on his work, on his life and on his happiness.
"OK," Chris acknowledged Nurse Franklin's request; "I can leave tomorrow."
"Chris," Brenda interrupted, "you need to leave today honey."
He knew what this meant as the nurse continued. "Check in with us from the road; she’s in and out right now but we honestly believe that she’s hangin' on till she sees you."
It was a cold morning, accented by a drizzling rain that permeated the bones. Chris arrived at the medical facility, screeching to a halt, barely taking time to turn off the engine.
The sterile, white hallways were silent except for a group of nurses who congregated near the front, taking a break, talking about work, love lives and typical co-worker chit chat.
Chris bolted through the front door; the nurses immediately knew who he was through word of mouth in the facility. They knew that his mother’s death was imminent and that they should expect him sometime in the middle of the night.
His mom was well loved by the staff so they couldn't imagine how deeply her family must feel for her.
Chris sat with his mom for an hour. The room was silent with the exception of intermittent chirps from medical monitors. Only one nurse remained, periodically administering pain medicine to keep his mother comfortable, occasionally leaving to bring Chris some coffee.
.
Finally, Chris felt her hand tighten. A large gasp followed by total silence. The heart monitor flat lined. Chris’ mother was gone. She passed peacefully. Chris looked at the nurse and back to his mother.
"If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit here for a little while," he softly asked.
"Not at all Mr. Barrow, take as long as you need."
Chris’ eyes were fixed, blankly, on the television screen in Erin’s living room. A small tear formed in his eye as Erin placed a hot tea tray on the table. She looked at Chris with concern.
"Hey? Hey…are you OK sweetie?" Erin asked.
"Yeah, I suppose the day is catching up with me, that’s all," Chris quietly replied. "I was just thinkin' about my last trip back to Virginia. I’m tired, that's all," Chris dismissed.
Erin turned off the TV. "Well, that’s understandable."
Erin placed her hand on Chris’ knee. "It’s hard, I know," she comforted.
"How long did it take you to feel better?" Chris asked about Erin’s mourning period for her own mother.
"A while; it’s different for everyone I think. You just gotta take time for yourself to heal and find peace; that’s true for any major event in life though."
Chris thought about Erin's words for a moment. The advice she’d given in the past where their relationship was concerned. Time and healing was needed in order to move forward, in a healthy way.
"No shortcuts," Chris quietly averred.
"No shortcuts," Erin quickly affirmed with a warm smile.
"I need sleep," Chris yawned.
"You can sleep here if you want," Erin invited.
"That’d be nice," he smiled.
Chris held Erin in his arms until she fell asleep. Chris lay still, staring at the ceiling before drifting off himself.
copyright, Pontchartrain Press 2008
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