At seven-forty Thursday morning, in Berwyn, Illinois, Sammy White awoke from bitter dream, hold a hard pillow against his chest, calling his dead wife’s name in the silently, lonely room. The broken and chilled quality of his own voice had grabbed him from the clutches of the dream. The dream, like all the others, would leave his mind slowly, mocking him with the desires we will never again know.
When he realized that there was only a pillow against his chest, and that once again Annie hadn’t walked back into reality from his dream, he clutched to the pillow tighter, fighting back tears. Though the dream was long over, Sammy had came out with the strawberry smell of hair, and was afraid the smallest movement would cause it to leave his nose without a trace.
Unfortunately, the power to keep the surreal memories in his grasp was beyond his reach, and the smell faded into nothingness. The vividness of the dream turned into mere phantom thoughts and images. Annie was gone forever, and nothing Sammy did was going to bring her back.
Deprived, he got out of bed and walked to the bedroom window, slid it up, stuck his out and breathed in the crisp, cool air while looking into the empty alley below. The bedroom behind him was utterly empty. The television was always off, the VCR no longer played, the king-size bed seemed as vast as the Atlantic Ocean.
The two bedroom apartment was more than enough he needed, in fact, as the days of solitude increased, it became hauntingly spacious. The apartment also had a kitchen, a living room and stuffed bathroom. After selling the house where he’d spent so many wonderful years with his wife, he had come to the place to live, buying used furniture from a nearby thrift store, giving away everything from his old life except pictures and memories. Even the clothes from the old life were gone. Everything reminded Sammy of Annie and when he remembered, the pain followed, and when the pain came, the sadness stalked, and when the sadness sank its clutches into him, suicide entered his mind.
For an entire year he had been paying rent, working at the cemetery two blocks down, eating and drinking when necessary and living an absolutely miserable existence while waiting for death to knock at his door. He was forty and in pretty good shape, so he knew he had a long wait, but Sammy had nothing but time.
The window offered him a pretty fair look at the garbage truck half down the alley. He could make out the shapes of men tossing blacks garbage into the truck. Above the sky was overcast. It was windy, but hot all the same. The sun was hiding behind a cloud. Another empty day a world he longer belonged too.
He was disappointed not to be dead, but knew in his heart he hadn’t been alive in a year. Sammy didn’t know what that put him, but wherever this was, he definitely wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Somewhere outside them doors, an ending was suited just for him, he had to find it. Suicide was out of the question no matter how often it entered his mind. If he killed himself, there a chance he would wake up in hell, and if he woke up in hell, there was no chance Annie would be down there waiting. He kept himself away from guns and knives, but found himself getting into other’s people’s business all the time, walking in the wrong neighborhoods, doing really stupid things intentionally, hoping to catch his death.
He went away from the window, left his room, went to the kitchen, got himself a beer from the refrigerator, and grabbed a seat at the kitchen table. The apartment was big enough for two, had enough stuff two, hell Sammy even cooked for two, but these things were out of habit. Getting used to the single’s life was tough.
Beer for breakfast. Eight in the damn morning. The remains of a shattered man.
He kept seeing his wife’s golden blond hair, her sparkling gray eyes, her gentle smile. Sammy often heard her life, her voice, her sneaky footsteps. He thought maybe he could drink himself to an early tombstone, but he didn’t dare risk losing his precious memories. Memories are the only thing in his life worth holding on to. He drank heavily every twice a week and avoiding temptation five nights a week.
Other than the growling of the garbage truck outside, the entire town of Berwyn seemed unusually quiet. The shades were drawn, and the light were turned off, so the kitchen was rather dim, like a bar he’d once known.
Sammy needed to talk to somebody really bad, and there was only person in the world who he hadn’t offended enough to keep away. With this person, he could be honest and tell the absolute truth. His mother was dead, he’d never known a father, he’d chased his closest friends away, he never knew the joy of having siblings and he didn’t ever keep in touch with other members of his family, but there was always Paige. She was the only person left in the shadows he now lived in. Paige brought light to world covered in darkness. She could help.
He picked up the phone from the table and began dialing Paige’s number. He was pretty sure she would be up.
Paige picked up the phone on the third ring. “Hello.” Her voice was filled with glee and energy. She was a morning person, but she could stay up all night.
“It’s me, Paige,” Sammy said softly. “I thought I’d give you a call.”
“Well its damn good to hear from you,” she said. Sammy heard something that sounded like relief in her voice. “After last week, well never mind, but I was really worried. You sounded more gloomy than usual. I guess I can’t blame you though.”
She took your ear off if you let her. Sammy loved that about her. And he did have a right to be extra gloomy that last time they spoke. It had been one year to the day that he’d lost his wife in an automobile accident. Paige and Annie had been sisters, separated by three years. Paige is a pretty thirty-seven year old blond, petite, tall and always wore a smile, even during times that were otherwise grim.
“I’ve been feeling worse lately. Ever since our visit to Annie, well the bad thoughts are coming to my head more frequently.”
“You’ve got to start doing something with your life again,” Paige said. “You work at a cemetery, you live alone, by God, you’ve practically surrounded yourself with death, and you’ve lost a lot of weight. Have you been eating?”
He thought about lying to her, but found it impossible. “Not much.”
“You got to get your life back on track. I’m worried about you, Sam. I loved Annie almost as much as you do, maybe as much, but you’ve got to let go. You’re ruining your life. You quit your job, chased away your friends.”
“Have I chased you away?” he asked.
“Never. But I would like to have fun with you instead sitting around in your world of despair. When Annie was around, you were actually a fun guy.”
“That guy died with Annie.”
“No he didn’t. He just got misplaced.”
There was a moment of silence. He could hear the roar of the garbage truck even closer now.
