Window Stories

I awoke not feeling well. That’s one of the problems getting old. You never know what kind of a day you’ll have. One morning you wake up and feel like you could run a marathon. The next morning, you can hardly move. I looked over at the window and saw a young man running past. It was me as a teenager.

It seemed like I had been running my whole life. When I was about thirty-five, Bob Seger released a song called Running Against the Wind. Sometimes, late at night, I would listen to it on my stereo. I could identify with it. I was always running against the wind. Now, the wind doesn’t blow anymore. Instead, I’m crawling to await my final destination.

I was wiping tears from my eyes when Ms. Sullivan entered the room. She grew very concerned when she saw me. She rushed over and asked what was wrong. I tried to convince her I was okay. However, the next few minutes involved getting my blood pressure and temperature checked. Finally, she stepped back and said that everything seemed fine. She asked, “Do you want me to call in a doctor in case I’ve missed anything?”

“It’s just old age,” I replied. “Don’t ever grow old.”

She smiled and said, “That’s not possible. Old age is God’s gift to us that we have lived a life well spent.” I wanted to laugh in her face. Some gift. The way my body aches sometimes, I wouldn’t want to wish on my worst enemy. I assured her that I was alright, and after taking my breakfast order, she left the room. I began to sing softly, “I’m so old and useless, and I’m still running against the wind.”

I had managed to eat a little breakfast, and I was resting my eyes, when I heard someone enter. It was Colin. He had a smile on his face. He was wearing a powder blue sweatsuit. “Good morning, Phil,” he said as he approached and gently gripped my arm.

I frowned and said, “You’re in a good mood.”

He stepped back and remarked, “Someone is in a bad mood. Didn’t you sleep well?”

“I never sleep well,” I grumbled. “They keep the hallway lights on all night, and someone is always crying or moaning. Last night, medics took the man in the room next door away to the hospital. I’m afraid to ask if he died.”

“Why would you be afraid to ask that?”

I frowned and said, “Because I might be the next one wheeled out.”

Colin touched my arm and said, “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Before I left last night, you said you were going to tell me about your high school graduation.”

“It was boring,” I replied. “After all these years, I don’t remember much.”

Colin grinned and said, “Bullshit, Phil. You have a better memory than anyone I’ve met. I graduated only about six years ago, and I bet I don’t remember as much about my graduation as you do yours.”

I looked over at the window and saw a young man in a gray suit standing smiling in at me. He was extremely handsome with his styled long hair and smug grin on his face.

Before I could begin my story, the door opened, and Jason entered. He smiled when he noticed Colin sitting beside me. “Colin,” he said cheerfully as he walked over and shook his hand. “It’s good to see you.” I watched as they smiled at each other. He looked at me and asked how I was.

I announced, “I would like to skip today’s session.” I was still rather depressed from my earlier thoughts. It would be extremely embarrassing for me to go to the physical therapy room and try to do light exercises in front of two young and able-bodied men.

“Nonsense,” said Colin as he stood beside me. “I got up early this morning because you invited me to join you for your therapy session.” He looked at Jason and smiled. “Besides, I want to watch Attila the Hun torture you.” He and Jason made eye contact and smiled. I was beginning to regret trying to play matchmaker. I felt a deep pain in my heart that I couldn’t explain.

Jason brought my wheelchair closer to my bed and asked Colin to help with getting me into it. He didn’t need Colin’s help. He helped me numerous times alone. I stood and Colin helped me put my robe on. As they wheeled me to the PT room, I could hear them talking behind me. Jason asked Colin his age and if he lived alone.  Colin replied that he lived alone and had a small studio apartment downtown. Jason said he still lived at home in his parent’s basement.

Jason had me do my regular routines. Most are leg strengthening exercises since that is where I am weakest. Lately, he has been having me stand and take a few steps while I hold onto the bar. I’m hoping that someday I can regain the use of my legs so I can move into an apartment. I was also finding it amusing to watch Colin and Jason interact. They seemed to really enjoy each other. It reminded me of the time I met Dwight at a bar. We spent hours just looking into each other’s eyes and smiling. I just hope that if the two of them get together, the outcome will be better than ours.

After forty-five minutes, they returned me to my room and helped me into bed. As usual, I was exhausted. I put my head back on my pillow and closed my eyes. I heard Jason asked Colin if he wanted to go to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. “It’s my breaktime,” he told him. “Phil always needs a few minutes rest after his therapy. You can join me.” I didn’t open my eyes, but I could hear them leave together.

“Dammit,” I muttered. “Why does life have to be so cruel.” A few minutes later, I was fast asleep.

Colin woke me about a half-hour later when he returned to the room. He had the widest smile on his face. “How did it go?” I asked.

He gave me an innocent look and replied, “How did what go?”

I said, “Your tete-a-tete with Jason.”

He gave me a questioning look and asked, “What’s that.”

I rolled my eyes and replied, “Your conversation. Did you guys hit it off?”

At first, I thought he was going to deny feeling anything for Jason, but then a broad grin appeared on his face, and he said, “Yeah. We’re going out to a movie Saturday night.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Are you sure you’re prepared for this?”

“Phil,” he replied. “I’ve been prepared for this for years. Jason seems to be a good guy. If things go beyond just seeing a movie, then I’m going to go for it. I’m tired of being by myself all the time.”

I extended my hand to him. He took it and held it. “I’m happy for you,” I said. “Just take it one step at a time. I learned the hard way not to go to fast, and I paid for it.”

He asked, “What happened?”

I looked past him and saw a tall, handsome figure outside the window. Dwight had his hands on the window as if he was trying to push it in. I shook my head and looked away. “That’s a story for another time,” I said. “I thought you wanted to hear about my graduation.”

He grinned and asked, “Did you hold it in the gym like you did the prom?”

“For your information, yes, we did.”

Colin said, “Ours was in a large arena.”

“Figures,” I responded as I rolled my eyes. “You and your bougie classmates.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Never mind,” I replied.

He laughed and said, “I’m going to have to start googling some of these words you use. They must be old school.”

“They may be old school,” I smiled, “but at least we had better music.”

“Yeah, you did,” he agreed. “My grandfather used to play his albums on the stereo when I was little. I loved the Eagles and Queen.”

I asked, “You know Freddie Mercury died of AIDS?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know that. That was a pretty bad disease, wasn’t it?”

I sadly shook my head and replied, “You have no idea.” I looked over at the window and saw the emaciated face of Dwight. I had to blink away tears.

I shook my head and adjusted myself in bed. I was going to tell you about my graduation.” Colin smiled and nodded his head. “I graduated in 1963. It was a pretty good time. We were excited about leaving school. Some of us were making plans to go on to college, but most planned to stay around and find a job.”

“But you were going to college?”

“I didn’t plan on it at first,” I replied. “I was working at the grocery store, and the owner said if I stayed, he would make me an assistant manager.” I laughed and added, “I would have been making $3.75 an hour.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Colin playfully. “You could have bought a mansion. What made you decide to go to college?”

“There was a war beginning in Vietnam,” I replied. “We kept hearing talk about how they were going to soon start drafting guys graduating out of high school. Some of my classmates were enlisting to go over there to fight.”

“I read about that in history class,” replied Colin. “I wouldn’t have wanted to go over there to fight.”

“I didn’t,” I admitted. “The thought of dying in the jungle of Vietnam scared the shit out of me. We were told that if we went to college, we could get a deferment. Another way was to get married. I didn’t want to go that route, so I enrolled in a local college. My old man hit the ceiling when I told him. He thought going to college was a waste of money. He helped me financially, but I had to work my ass off and apply for grants to be able to afford it.”

Colin gave me a puzzled look. “But weren’t you married? I read somewhere that you were married and had a son.”

“That came later,” I replied. I looked over at the window and saw a young woman holding a small baby in her arms. “I got married in college.” He nodded his head. I was going to tell him about Eloise, but I decided it should wait for another time.

“My graduation wasn’t very exciting,” I said. “Out of 120 students, I believe I ranked sixth in my class. There were three of us with the same GPA, so they assigned us the same rank. I had always been a good student, and I worked hard for good grades. Most subjects came easily for me, like English, history and government.” I frowned and added, “Geometry kicked my ass.”

Colin laughed and said, “I did good in geometry. I hated literature because teachers always had us reading the stupidest books. I thought I would die before I finished reading Tolstoy’s War and Peace.”

I commented, “You’re lucky. We had to write a twelve-page critique of Anna Karenina.” I laughed when Colin tilted his head back and moaned.

He asked, “How did you celebrate?”

“I wish I could tell you I attended a wild party and got drunk and had mad sex,” I laughed. “But it was rather uneventful. At graduation, they handed out our diplomas. My mom, dad and brother were there. When it broke up, they took me out to dinner at a local restaurant. Mom took a bunch of pictures, but I’m not sure what happened to them. She kept the pictures and my diploma in a box in her closet, but when she died, I looked for the box, but it was missing. I asked around, but no one seemed to know what happened to it. So, I don’t have anything from my graduation.”

“What about a yearbook?” asked Colin. “Didn’t you have yearbooks?” I frowned when I saw a huge grin appear on his face. I knew he was going to make some comment about not having printing presses back then.

“It’s gone like everything else,” I replied sadly. “I don’t have anything but memories from my youth. Back then, people didn’t take pictures like you do today. Hell, I’ve seen where people post pictures of their McDonald’s Happy Meals.”

Colin pulled out his cell phone, laughed and said, “I guess we do overdo it sometimes.” He stood and asked, “While I have my phone out, can I take a picture of you, Phil?”

I gave him a skeptical look and asked, “Why?”

“I just want a picture of you,” he replied. Tears appeared in my eyes when he added, “I like to have pictures of my good friends.”

“What about you?” I asked. “How was your graduation? Don’t tell me you were the valedictorian.”

Colin’s face reddened. “I wasn’t.” He grinned and added, “I was salutatorian.”

“Bougie Boy,” I laughed.

Colin pulled out his phone and began typing. “I’m googling what that means. You keep calling me that.” He continued to type, stopped, looked at me and asked how was the word spelled. I told him, and he continued to google.” He then looked up and said excitedly, “I’m not a spoiled rich kid.”

I laughed and said, “You reek bourgeoisie. I bet you never had to worry about money your whole life.”

“I can’t help it if my parents are rich,” he replied indignantly. “It doesn’t mean I have money.”

“Okay,” I smiled. I knew I was going to win this argument. “If you’re not a bougie boy, then what did your parents give you for your high school graduation? I got a steak dinner at The Dandy Diner. What did you get?” His face reddened and he refused to answer. I grinned and said, “I’m waiting.”

“Okay, okay,” he replied. “My parents took me on a vacation to Maui.”

I smiled and said, “You got a trip to Hawaii. And you’re not a bougie boy? They probably even bought you a car.” His face reddened again as he rose from his seat and said he was going down the hall to the bathroom.

He waved me off when I hollered as he was going out the door, “Don’t get piss on your silky Calvin Kleinies!”

He frowned when he returned and sat down. “Let’s talk about something else.” He looked at his watch and said he had to leave in a half hour. “You said you at first didn’t want to go to college. How were you able to enter before the beginning of the school year? I started applying to colleges in my junior year.”

I shrugged my shoulders and said, “It wasn’t difficult as long as I stayed away from the big universities. I had scored pretty high on the SAT, and I had good grades. It was good enough for a small school. I got accepted right away at the first school I applied to. The hard part was trying to qualify for grants and government aid since my father didn’t want to help me. With the money I was able to save over the summer, and the grants I got, I was able to start in the fall.”

“Where did you go?” he asked.

I replied, “It was a small liberal arts college in another state. You’ve never heard of it. It wasn’t an elite bourgeois school like Harvard or Yale which you probably attended.

“I did not attend Harvard or Yale,” he insisted adamantly. When I questioned him more, he reluctantly admitted he had attended Notre Dame on a full scholarship. He became more embarrassed when he had to admit he was a legacy student.

I gave him a puzzled look and asked, “I’m confused. You come from what sounds like a wealthy family. You’ve got a degree from a prestigious university, but you’re working as a social worker. Why? I’m sure you could be doing something that would be more profitable to you.”

Colin rose and walked over to the window and stared out. He stood for several minutes before turning toward me. “I learned from my grandfather,” he said softly as tears welled up in his eyes. “He warned me not to follow the money. He told me it would only make me unhappy.” He sat down and stared again at the window. “My grandfather was very wealthy, but he said all his money made him miserable. He worked long hours, and he never saw his family. My father was a fullback in high school, and he never attended one of his games. He said he missed a lot of birthdays and anniversaries.” He lifted his arm and wiped tears from his eyes on his sleeve.

“I spent a lot of time with him before he died,” he explained. “I was fifteen. He was in a nursing home, and no one visited him. My grandmother was dead, and my dad refused to go see him. He was so lonely.” Again, he wiped tears from his eyes. “He made me promise that I would always follow my dreams and not let money motivate me. He even left me a good inheritance when he died so that I would never have to worry about money.”

“I’m sorry,” I said tearfully.

“When I graduated from high school, I decided I wanted to get a degree in psychology. I ended up with a master’s degree at Notre Dame. I planned to get a doctorate degree in psychology. But as I was working towards my degree, I did a lot of volunteer work. The one thing that brought me the most joy was working in facilities that helped the unfortunate. I volunteered in drug abuse programs, and I worked late shifts at homeless shelters. It was where I felt I was doing the most good with my life.” I watched as he broke down and cried. I reached out my hand, and he held and squeezed it. “I think my grandfather is looking down at me and smiling. He’s very proud of me.”

I squeezed his hand and said, “I’m sure he is. He raised a wonderful grandson.”

“Thank you.” He leaned down and gently kissed my hand.

“You remind me so much of my grandfather,” he said emotionally. “That is why I enjoy visiting you.”

I replied tearfully, “I enjoy your visits. It’s giving me a reason to want to keep living.” We held hands and wept.

After a minute, he leaned back in his seat and smiled. “So, I’m not a bougie boy. I may have money, but I don’t let it spoil me.”

“Damn,” I smiled. “I guess I’ll have to come up with another name for you.”

Just then, Colin’s phone rang. He looked down and his face reddened. He rose from his seat and crossed the room. He tried to cover his mouth, but I was able to understand most of what he was saying. It appeared someone was asking him to join them for lunch. He said, “Bye, Jason,” as he closed his phone.

He walked over to the side of the bed and nervously explained he had to leave. I smiled and asked, “Lunch date?” His face reddened, and he nodded his head.

He touched my arm and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Phil.” He turned and started heading for the door.

I hollered out, “Tell Jason I said hello.” I laughed and added, “Lover Boy.” He waved and hurried out of the room.

Email:  ronyx@themustardjar.com

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