One I wrote quite a while ago that has been languishing on my hard drive. I tinkered and tinkered and...here it is.
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SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR
She came along at the right time.
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HENRY
It was a long way down. I don't think ever I fully understood or appreciated just how high the bridge was from the surface of the water. Of course, I had only ever been on the bridge while driving across it in my car. I had never looked down from the edge as I was doing now. And it was a long way down.
But that was the point, of course. It needed to be a long way down in order to get the job done. I didn't want to survive this and spend the rest of my life, such as it was, lying in a coma somewhere. That would be even worse. I wasn't looking to suffer; in fact, that was the whole point of my being where I was now. I didn't want to suffer anymore. I didn't want to hurt anymore.
It was late enough in the evening and the road was seldom traveled anyway, so the cars were few and far between. I supposed some of the drivers didn't see me, and any that did could always say they didn't if they had to, though I saw no reason why they would be in a position of having to explain driving past me.
But as the headlights came and went, maybe only a dozen times over the past hour, I just sat there staring down into the darkness.
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KAZEY
The clock on the dash caught my eye as it switched from 7:59 to 8:00pm. I had just come off the junction from Highway 65 and was now moving East on US 278. I had an eventual destination of a warehouse in St Louis but wasn't due there until tomorrow afternoon. I much preferred the rural roads. Not only was there less traffic but they were much more fun to drive than those boring, straight interstate freeways.
I noticed a car off to the side of the road but that wasn't entirely unusual. Gas stations were few and far between out here and it wasn't unheard of for someone low on fuel to get on one of these roads and run out before they could find their way to a gas station, so I paid it little mind.
What was unusual was someone sitting on the concrete barrier overlooking the mighty Mississippi, as there was now. I assumed the car belonged to him and it appeared that he intended for it to stay there for the foreseeable future, since he didn't plan to come back for it. I hit the brakes.
I pulled to the side as best I could and put my flashers on. The bridge was only one lane in each direction but I was sure traffic was slow enough so that my truck wouldn't be a problem. In case it wasn't clear, my truck is an 18-wheeler, Kenworth by brand, and I'm hauling a load of office furniture to an Office Max warehouse in St. Louis.
I climbed out of the cab and walked the short distance back to where the man was sitting on the ledge, his intentions clear. Even as I walked toward him I had no idea what I was going to say. All the clichΓ©s popped into my head: 'it can't be that bad'; 'you have so much to live for'; 'this is a permanent end to a temporary problem'; etc. I wouldn't pay much attention to stuff like that so I doubted he would either.
I was soon within about 20 feet of his position, obviously close enough for him to hear me approach.
"Leave me alone, please."
There was no life in his voice. He was hurting and hurting bad, but then he wouldn't be where he is if he wasn't, would he? Of course, I couldn't do as he asked, not and live with myself. I had to try.
"What's your name?"
He ignored the question. I tried again.
"My name is Kazey. What's yours?"
"Please leave me alone."
"I can't do that, I'm sorry. We're here until you jump in front of me or you climb down."
He turned his eyes back toward me. They were filled with sadness and despair.
"You said your name was Casey?"
"No, Kazey. K-A-Z-E-Y."
"Okay Kazey, why do you care? Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"Look, I'm not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel or what you're going through. I'm sure you wouldn't be here if you didn't think it was your only option. But I've been through the shit before myself, and I wasn't too far from being in the same place you are. But some people helped me. They told me that once I hit rock bottom there was nowhere to go but up. I know it sounds trite, but there's some truth to it, you know?"
"You're right. That is trite, and you do have no idea how I feel or what I'm going through. But you tried, so you can get back in your truck and go on down the road guilt free. I proclaim you good with the universe."
"Can you at least tell me your name, and give me a number I can call to let someone know what happened."
"My name is Henry, and there's no one that cares what happens to me so I can't give you a number."
"No parents, friends, brothers or sisters?"
"None that care."
"How can you be so sure?"
He didn't answer.
"What do you do for a living, Henry?"
"I'm a supervisor at the Department of Motor Vehicles."
"I'll bet that's interesting."
"It's boring and tedious, and most days I walk out of there wanting to kill myself."
He turned to me and flashed a rueful smile.
"And no, that's not why I'm sitting here. Sadly, that's the bright spot of my life right now."
This wasn't getting me anywhere. He hadn't even given one second of thought to climbing off of that barrier, and frankly I had no idea what else to say. The one thing that I tried was as clichΓ© as anything I had thought of and he recognized it for what it was. I needed to try a different tack.
"So, Henry, I've got a load of furniture I'm hauling up to St. Louis. I've got about 7 hours of driving ahead of me and I could use some company. Wanna come along?"
He didn't tell me no immediately and I thought that might be a good sign. In fact, it looked like he was seriously thinking about it. I took a chance but thought it might seal the deal.
"If you still want to do this after we get there they have bridges in St. Louis, too."
To my surprise he actually chuckled at that. I was glad he could appreciate some of my dark humor. But he still hadn't climbed off the ledge.
"Come on, Henry. Let's get in the truck and hit the road. Maybe you'll find a reason to live between here and there. Besides, if you really wanted to jump, you'd have jumped by now, I think."
He turned to look at me again; his face suddenly more serious after the lighthearted exchange had broken his dark mood momentarily.
"I do want to, but it's scary, you know."