The Waiting
Short Story
by Samuel Blackwell
I was five years old when I first saw you; it was the day you
took my grandfather.
Grandpa lay in the hospital bed; he was drifting in and out of
consciousness, with my Nana sitting at his side. The hospital room was full of
people; aunts, uncles, cousins, and people from the neighborhood would
be stopping by through out the whole day. Grandpa was a very well
respected man in our part of town. As he lay in the hospital bed, he would
occasional open his eyes, I could see something there that I never saw
in him before, it took me a few years to realize that the look was fear.
The room was packed when you walked in, my Grandfather and I were the
only ones to notice you. We looked at each other and then at you, as you
made your way through the crowded room. You were dressed as a Doctor,
no one noticed as you stood at his bedside, and put your hand out to
him. As my grandfather took your hand, his face changed, he no longer
looked scared, and the grayness in his face was gone.
I hid behind my
mother, I didn't understand what you were back then, but I knew there was
something very odd about you. I was shocked to see my grandfather stand
up, (He had not been able to stand or walk for months.) no one noticed
as he and you made your way through the crowed of people. My
grandfather looked back and smiled at me as the two of you walked out of the
room. No one did anything; they just stood and quietly talked amongst themselves as they had been doing all day. I ran to the door and looked down
the hall in both directions, but the halls were empty. Then my Nana
began to scream and wail loudly, I turned around to see my Nana holding my
grandfathers body in her arms.
I wouldn't see you again until the summer of my ninth year. It was a
hot August day, my best friend Johnny McCorbin and I were trying to see
who could climb the highest in an old tree we used to play in. I had
known Johnny all my life; we were always competing with each other. This
particular day we had both climb higher then we ever had in this tree,
Johnny was higher than I, and of course was letting me know that, when
the branch he was on broke. I heard the crack and down he came, he was
directly above me his body hit mine and we both plummeted to the ground.
We both lay on the ground on our backs. There was a sharp shooting pain
through my shoulder, I had broken my collarbone. Johnny landed on his
head; he was looking at me very glassy eyed and making a low gurgling
noise.
Then I saw you walking slowly toward us, at first I didn't realize
it was you. You had taken the form of a hobo. Standing between the both
of us, you offered your hand. I screamed NO! And immediately rolled
over. I struggled to get to my feet; the pain was unbearable. I shouted to
Johnny to get up and run. I ran as fast as I could; I never looked
back, I thought Johnny was right behind me, but he had taken your hand. He
was buried three days later.
I saw you again that same year when you took my Nana.
The small apartment we lived in back then only had two rooms, Nana and
I had to share one. I was awakened one night to see you sitting at the
edge of her bed, you looked just like the pictures of grandpa when he
was younger. I was frozen with fear. I tried but couldn't say a word as
she took your hand and the two of you walked out the door. After you were
gone I looked over to see my grandmother, her eyes were wide open and
she was staring at the ceiling, she was gone.
Eight years had passed; I was seventeen, asleep in my bed when I was
awakened by a loud knock at the front door of our apartment. It was a
fireman they were evacuating the complex due to a fire.
As we all stood in the street in our night clothes looking for family
and neighbors making sure everyone was out, I saw you. You were dressed
as a fireman; my heart sank when you went into our building. I kept
looking around trying to figure out who was still in there. Then you
walked out with Nancy Stienman; you had one arm around her and the other arm
cradling her baby. No one else noticed as the three of you disappeared
into the night.
Nancy was a young mother who lived two doors down from us, she was only
two years older then me, we had gone to the same high school, in fact I
had a crush on her for several years, when she was Nancy Thompson. She
married her high school sweet heart Larry Stienman, shortly after they
were married Larry joined the service, he was in boot camp when the
baby was born. He never had a chance to hold his baby.
It would be almost ten years before I saw you again; in fact I had made
myself believe that you were something that I imagined.
June 6th 1944, D-Day. I was with the 2nd Ranger Battalion; we were part
of the second wave to hit the beach at Omaha. I watched in horror as we
made our way to the beach. I saw you everywhere, you moved at an
unnatural speed, changing shape as you moved from one fallen soldier to
another. As I made my way off the landing craft, I wanted so desperately to
run away, but there was no where to go except the shore. It was the
most frightening experience of my life, we trained for months, but it was
nothing like I had ever seen before. Utter chaos, bombs exploding over
head, bullets flying by, soldiers falling in every direction, and of
course you, you had a very busy day that day.
I remember thinking to myself as long as you were not close to me I
would be all right.
As I made my way to the shore I felt a sharp burning sensation in my
upper right thigh, I looked down to see the water around me quickly
becoming red. Standing for just a moment I was hit again, this time in my
left shoulder the bullet hit so hard that I was thrown back into the
water. I somehow managed to make my way to the shore, as I lay there, I
tried to keep and eye on you. I was losing consciousness. I heard a young
soldier next to me calling out for his mother. Within a second you were
there, holding him in your arms in the shape of his mother, he looked
at you and cried Mommy. With a flash you were gone onto the next dying
soldier. As I watched you, I remember thinking with each shape you took
you were being what was most dear to these men, a mother, a beautiful
young wife, a father, a friend. I faded into unconsciousness.
I received a Purple Heart for my wounds; to this day I still feel the
pain in my shoulder, when the weather is cold or damp.
Soon after coming home I married Jenny Volts, I met her while I was in
the service through a pen pal program. She was beautiful, she would
send me pictures along with her letters. Those pictures got me through
some very lonely nights over seas; in fact I was always asking her for
more, because the guys in my troop kept stealing them.
Jenny lived less then one hundred miles from where I grew up, one day I
drove out to see her, and as they say the rest is history.
After we were married I cashed in my Veterans benefits. We bought a
home; I went back to school and became an engineer. Those were the best
years of my life. I didn't forget about you, I was always on the look out
for you. Sometimes you would even be in my dreams, chasing me.
Jenny gave me three beautiful children; it wasn't until the birth of
the last one that you showed up again. Little Annie was born March 12,
1956.
I was caught in traffic and showed up a half-hour after she was born. I
stood at the window of the nursery looking through all the babies
trying to find her, a box of cigars in one hand, and flowers for Jenny in
the other. I was reading the names on the front of the baby baskets;
there she was, baby Goble, nine pounds two ounces, nineteen inches long. I
was admiring her when I noticed you, I got this strange feeling, I
looked up and there you were in the nursery.
To this day I can't remember what guise you had taken, I stood frozen in fear as you slowly made your
way to the babies. NO! I shouted as you walked toward Annie, I sighed
a sigh of relief as you walked passed her. At this point a nurse asked
me if everything was okay, a little shaky I said yes, she then asked me
to keep it down. By this time you were standing in front of an
Incubator.
From where I stood, I could see the small premature baby inside, it
was no bigger then my hand. Its tiny head was very misshapen, and its
little chest struggled with every breath it took, I watched with
sadness as you put your hands through the glass, like a ghost walking through
a wall. You cradled this child ever so gently in your hands as you
brought the baby up close to your chest; it changed to a healthy full term
baby. My eyes began to well up with tears, I closed them for just a
second, and a buzzer went off. I opened them to see a staff of nurses
hovering over the incubator, trying to revive the little angel.
I realized at that point that you, like everyone else in this world had
a job to do. I wondered if you had bad days, and if you had bad days,
what you did. Did they have bars in heaven? Did you go down the street
to Saint Peter's Pub, and knock a few down before going home? Did you
have a home? A wife, kids, or were you like a priest not allowed these
comforts? These thoughts didn't help, I still feared you, because I knew
whenever I saw you I may lose someone close to me, and I also knew one
day you will be coming for me.
November 22, 1963, I watched the events from my television, I watched
as you took our President. I never saw you, in fact I wondered where you
were, how you came to him. Were you the on the grassy knoll? Were you
with Oswald, did you steady his hand as he pulled the trigger? Were you
in the car, did his blood splatter on you as it did his widow?
I've always wondered do you get extra points for the big names, or is
it all in a days work, just another one on the list?
You wouldn't be visiting my family for another five years. My father
was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer in early 1968; you took him in
June of that year. I was working late that day when Jenny called me and
said I better get to my parent's house, that my father was doing very
badly. I drove as fast as I could, when I got to the house, it was to
late. The sun was going down, I could see two silhouettes on the front
porch. I sat in my car and watched as you let my father smoke his last
cigarette, as the sun set. My father spent many sunsets smoking on that
porch. I felt a little comfort as the two of you faded away, knowing that
he was no longer in pain.
I had seen you from time to time during the seventies and early
eighties, going about your business, I made sure that I stayed clear of you. I
wasn't there to see you take my mother in '73, I had been on a cruise
with Jenny, I was told she had died in her sleep, of course you and I both
know that you had to wake her so she could take your hand.
1985, I had been retired for a couple of years, Jenny and I were living
in a condo in Florida. I was asleep in my easy chair when I woke to see
you standing above me in my living room. I quickly jumped up and ducked
trying not to touch you; I made my way out the door, and ran to my car
with the keys in my hand. I drove three blocks, when I remembered Jenny
asleep in our bed.
Oh dear God no!... Not Jenny. I turned the car around and drove back
as fast as I could. Running to the house I realized I had left the
front door wide open. I called out to Jenny as I made my way to our
bedroom. I stood in the doorway of our room. Jenny please wake up. Part of
me knew you had taken her, but I didn't want to believe it. I quickly
got in bed and put my arms around her, held her as I have done for so
many years. As the sun rose I laid there not wanting to move knowing that
as soon as I got up, I will never have her to hold again.
So, here I am twenty years later. You have taken two of my children,
thanks to an auto accident and a brain tumor. Annie is living out in
California; I can't bear the thought of outliving her. I am in the
Crestview Convalescent home, I can't walk with out the help of a walker, and I
am unable to control the use of my bladder and bowels. I spend most of
my days in this bed watching Television and being treated like I'm a
three-year-old from these condescending nurses. I spend a lot of time
looking out my window, looking for you. Where are you? How long do I have
to wait? Sometimes I will get out of this bed and with the assistants
of my walker will scoot around the halls trying to find you; I seem to
always miss you. I think your deliberately hiding from me.
3:45 am, I have been staring out my window all night long, in hopes of
catching you.
So who are you looking for? A voice said in the darkness of my room. I
looked to see the silhouette of a curvaceous woman, in an evening gown
standing in my doorway.
I turned on the light to see Rita Hayworth; you came to me in the shape
of Rita Hayworth.
You know I said you were always my favorite, in fact I almost danced
with you at a USO show.
Looking every bit the movie starlet Rita says back to me.
So how about that dance? With out hesitation I make my way out of
bed, grab my walker, and go straight toward the thing I have been running
from all my life. As I reach out to hold Rita, She disappears. I am
standing alone in my room.
What kind of sick joke? I think to myself. Then I hear her calling my
name; I look out the window to see her standing on the front lawn of
the convalescent home. She is so beautiful by the moonlight.
Come on, she shouts, I want my dance. I make my way through the now
empty halls, scooting slowly along with my walker. Pass the nurses
desk, there is no one there to stop me. I slowly shuffle through the
automatic doors, into the cool night air. I made my way to her, but as soon
as I reached out to touch her she was gone again. This time she called
out to me from across the street. Come on lover I want to dance.
Without hesitation I began to cross the street. I heard the loud horn, but
didn't have time to turn as the large truck plowed over me. My body
rolled underneath the truck, I felt like I was in a meat grinder as it
quickly chewed me up, and spit me out the back end. I rolled and bounced
down the highway until I stopped at the gutter. I laid in the gutter
unable to move, from what I could tell my body was a twisted bloody mess.
I began to choke up blood; I struggled to breathe as I coughed up more
blood. Rita was standing over me now.
How about that dance? She said, as she held her hand out to me.
I can think of nothing better that I'd rather be doing now. I
gurgled. I was able to move my hand to hers, as soon as we touched she lifted
me up and we were dancing, I was no longer in pain, old, or broken. I
could hear the sirens, and a crowed starting to gather as we danced into
the night. The sirens became a slight ringing in my ears as the noises
and cares of this world drifted away.
The Waiting© COPYRIGHT 2005 Samuel Blackwell. Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author. 09/15/05
