Four minutes and half a life

Submitted into Contest #245 in response to: Set your story during a total eclipse — either natural, or man-made.... view prompt

19 comments

Contemporary

Everyone was speaking about it. It was the day when celestial bodies would meet, the light would disappear, and magic would happen: the total eclipse was about to happen, and no one would shut up about it. It would only last four minutes, but I had heard about it for weeks. No matter what channel I set on the television, someone spoke about it: science lovers, adventure junkies, romance seekers, first timers, experienced people... everybody wanted to be there, feel it, be able to say "I was there," but I didn't. I couldn't care less because a) I lived far away from the places where I could see it, b) I was not about to move a single finger to experience it, and c) I had something much worse to do at that time.


I know people choose the better things when given options, but sometimes, we don't choose; we simply have instructions to follow. So, by the time thousands of people would be wearing weird glasses and cheering to the sky, I would be wearing an odd gown, some lousy headphones, and looking at the walls of a white tube. While so many people would be outdoors, I would feel my heart jumping and my veins pumping, laying in a cold chamber. People would be cheering outside. Inside, all I could hear would be the deafening "Pam- Pam- Pam- Pam..." Why do those machines do that? If Science has progressed so much, why has no one invented a noise-canceling thing to attach to that machine... and, if it indeed exists, why did my hospital not adopt the latest technology? Once inside, I wished I were not claustrophobic but deaf—although I don't think I have fear of tiny spaces. What I feared then was what that small space would do to my life. 


The days before the test, I tried to keep my cool around the family. Nothing good comes from a stressed mother. I worked, did my chores around the house, helped the older kids with their homework, and played with the smaller one. Whenever I felt the nerves were catching up with me, I read, gamed, and cooked. I baked as well. I baked a lot. The worst part of baking was that, although I usually don't eat the cakes, cookies, and pastries I bake, this time, I did. At a certain point, I stopped myself from licking the baking trays, which was not a good sign. The stress was eating me, and I was eating whatever was before me. 


So, I tried to behave as usual, but it didn't go according to plan because the usual chaos at home does not tolerate good intentions. I tried to cook and eat healthy, but that did not work because I became a very hungry hippo. No matter how healthy you cook, eating five portions is not healthy anymore. Then, I started to think... to think a lot. My mind was not only worried about work and family, shopping lists, bills, and the wall I realized I had to paint since the dogs confused it with a chewing toy... No. I started to have dark thoughts about my life, and believe me: that was not good either. I began to think about my father.


"I will never turn fifty." That's what my father used to say whenever someone accused him of enjoying an excessive lifestyle. He had a good and whole life, and I am sure he heard those comments many times, but he did not seem to care, laughed back at them, and kept doing whatever he wanted. I don't think he ever feared failing anyone but himself, which is an excellent way to care less about what people think about us and focus on what makes us happy. It is a way of life, but only for some. I have a pathological fear of deceiving others. A few years ago, someone asked me if I had ever had suicidal thoughts, and the only thing I could think about was who would do the laundry if I was missing. I know it is ridiculous, but the amount of laundry at home is of an industrial- scale... still, it is absurd. I never thought about ending my life, but I fantasized about how it would be to be surrounded by nothing but a beautiful void... 

I entered a white tube to scan my insides at forty-five, the same age my father was when he was diagnosed with his first cancer. As predicted by that man-- who I'm not sure if he was wise or just "lucky"-- he never turned fifty. He died at forty-nine, surrounded by party friends and a few "I-told-you-so" relatives, with a life full of stories and memories that could fill three lives of regular humans walking the Earth.  


I would not like to follow his steps, though, because I never did before. When I was younger, I was not rebellious or adventurous. I did not travel the world as he did. I spent half my life in offices working for other people. I was not entrepreneurial. I did not risk (and lose) it all to re-invent myself and become a modern Phoenix. Compared to him, I am boring, and I have only lived half of what I should—only half a life.


I laid down on my belly, closed my eyes, and held the panic button with my left hand. One of the nurses put me some earplugs and headphones with music. 

"Don't move," they told me. "It will only take fifteen or twenty minutes," they said.

My toes were weirdly curved, and my arms were extended as if I were in a bank robbery. Still, considering the circumstances, I behaved very well. I did not move even if my nose was itching. I did not move even when the "Pam, Pam, Pam, Pam" reminded me of EDM (Electric Dance Music), and I pictured my younger son dancing in the middle of the living room. The thing I tried not to think of was my children, but there I was, remembering how Leo jumped across the room. I behaved well and did not think of all the terrible events that could come after that medical appointment. I was nervous, but I did not cry. I was tired, but I smiled at the nurses because that's how I was taught to be: always nice...


The noise ended. The test ended. One of the nurses came to pick me up. She helped me leave the white cocoon, the earplugs, and the headphones behind.

"Someone will call you," they told me. I smiled again.

I picked up my clothes and got dressed. I left the room and met my husband, who happily showed me the eclipse news on his phone...

"It's cool," I said, looking at the ring on the screen. 

"Twenty more years for the next one," he replied.

I smiled because I always do, but what I thought was about punching the phone... That was yesterday. Tomorrow someone will call me.

April 09, 2024 12:09

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19 comments

Angie Sherwood
18:55 Apr 18, 2024

This story resonated with me as I have a family member fighting cancer now. Thanks for sharing it.

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11:56 Apr 19, 2024

Hi Angie, thanks for your feedback. I hope everything goes well.

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Jennifer Luckett
21:58 Apr 17, 2024

Loved the line “The stress was eating me, and I was eating whatever was before me.” So relatable and well-stated to describe her unease. I enjoyed the story-very well-done.

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08:35 Apr 18, 2024

Thanks a lot, Jennifer. It is always nice when people like what you write, but I love it when it is relatable and makes others feel like my characters :)

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Daniel Rogers
16:11 Apr 15, 2024

Longevity versus quality of life, I agree with Dad. Great story.

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17:14 Apr 15, 2024

Thank you Daniel 😊

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James Moore
08:51 Apr 15, 2024

I suppose an eclipse could be seen as a mini death and rebirth, which is what your story put me in mind of, most of us have experienced times we don't think we'd come back from but looking back you can just tell yourself 'that was just an eclipse'.

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14:11 Apr 15, 2024

Indeed, it was just another celestial event I will not remember :) Thanks for your comment James. I really like to see how these stories can connect with other people, and loved your mini-birth and rebirth concept...

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Darvico Ulmeli
05:09 Apr 15, 2024

Yes, it's all about perspective. For ones the beautiful event, moment of happiness and for other a terrible experience of life cut it away. What is really important? It's all about the perspective. Liked.

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07:30 Apr 15, 2024

Thanks Darvico. It is always nice to receive your comments :)

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Patricia Casey
20:37 Apr 14, 2024

Hi Laura, We like to get excited about upcoming rare events, but you presented a different side. Life does try to rob us of our joy, and you portrayed your sentiments well. One of the nurses put me some earplugs and headphones with music. (You might want to revise this sentence.) Your ending was powerful and summarized your journey that stole your potential enthusiasm for the eclipse. Well done! Patricia

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08:17 Apr 15, 2024

Hi Patricia, Thanks for your comments. As you say, no matter what good things happen around the world, we might not be in the best circumstances to embrace them. I will revise the sentence; it might not convey the weirdness of being asked to be still, having someone put the plugs in your ears, and then covering your ears even more, trying to make you feel more comfortable. Thanks for your advice!

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Patricia Casey
19:02 Apr 15, 2024

The confusing part for me was that earplugs stop the sound and headphones add sound. I couldn't grasp how you could have both.

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19:13 Apr 15, 2024

Ah, ok, that one is easy to explain: the machine is SO loud that they put patients first earplugs, and then headphones on top, playing music. Even with that, the noise is terrible, and when you feel the pulses you cannot listen to the music... so, yes... confusing but true.

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Patricia Casey
01:25 Apr 16, 2024

Now it makes sense. Thanks for explaining.

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08:39 Apr 11, 2024

A lot of emotional depth here and excellent writing. Loved the contrast between the excitement over something 'cool' but essentially meaningless, and the harrowing and very important test the protagonist has to go through.

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11:38 Apr 11, 2024

Thanks a lot Melissa, really happy that the feeling came across 😊

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Kristi Gott
05:54 Apr 10, 2024

This is very sensitive and describes this slice of life experience in a compelling, engaging manner that draws the reader into the story. The sensation of dealing with these issues and the character's reactions feels authentic. A story told well.

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06:52 Apr 10, 2024

Thank you Kristi. I did not want it to be sad, and it is not something to make fun of either so I guess I wrote it as I see life… a random mix of feelings and experiences. Happy that you liked it 😊

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