Time and Time, Again

I tried to warn him. I’ve tried ever since I first heard, but they just look at me like I’m tuned to the wrong channel somehow. It was April first. Probably why no one believe me. Who would think about playing a trick like that. Now its May, tomorrow. I know cause it’s his birthday, first husband. Now he listened when I told him things. Really too bad what happened to him. But then they said insanity run in the family. Best start lunch, even though no one but me and the dog eats it.

“Hey you! You comin in? Lunch.”

“What was that you said? The neighbor has the stock car races on again. Can’t hear myself think. We should get him a hearing aid, or call the police. He sits out there in the front yard watching the cars go by, the radio turned to full blast, and pretends he’s the only one left in the world.”

“I said, according to the Weather Channel we are supposed to be dead by morning.”

“What are you talking about. I just bought bread yesterday. We can’t be out already.”

“Come in here you old fool. I can’t talk to the wall and expect to get a descent answer… 

Sit down over there, and listen. I’ll shut the door, that should help. The Weather Channel said there is a meteor headed for earth. Not only earth, but the West Coast in particular. It is supposed to come through the atmosphere and hopefully burn up. But they said it was the size of Rhode Island, and the likelihood of some, if not all, will make it to earth. They showed some picture of a pot hole someplace where it happened the last time. According to them it killed every living thing on the planet eventually. But that was speculation, as they have no absolute proof. What do you think we should do?”

“I think we should pretend you didn’t hear that. It is more than likely a hoax, like all the other hoaxes we’ve been subject too over the past few years. Stealing elections, some virus thing, oceans rising! Makes you want to move. But no, I’m not goin anywhere. If God wants us gone, we are gone. Simple as that.”

“You don’t think we should do something? Call the kids, feed the dog? I know you have a calmer disposition than I do, but we aren’t dead yet. Isn’t there something you’d like to do before it’s too late?”

“Yes, there is one thing. Well two actually. I’m goin to the store and get some ice cream. Then I’m comin home, going to eat the whole quart, and then cut the grass. You needin anything while I’m out?”

He’s always been like that. Not so much selfish, as thoughtless. He thinks mostly about himself when he’s not thinking about God. I’m sure it has something to do with the way he was brought up, but you’d think after all these years he’d begin to believe a little more in reality. I don’t think the Weather Channel, of all people, is going to put out something as devastating as being murdered by a meteor without having a good reason for doing so.

When he was younger they were poor. Not that they didn’t have the necessities. They were just considered poor, because they considered themselves poor. We went to school together, so I got to know him then. His father was the one who yelled the loudest at sports games, and Bill wasn’t even playing. He complained the loudest at parent-teacher meetings. You could hear his voice bouncing down the hallways no matter where you stood.

I think he felt there was always someone keeping him down. He didn’t have the heart to look at himself and realize it was him. He passed that negativity down to Bill. What did Bill do? He takes the negativity and turns it on its head. From about the age of fourteen, maybe a little later, it didn’t matter what happened, Bill would find the good in it. 

You could see someone get hit by a bus and Bill would remark, “Good it didn’t hurt the bus none. All of them people dependin on it to get to work.”

I can see where being dead by morning doesn’t bother him on the outside, but I’ll bet you a dollar to a donut that he’s up all night pacing. He’s a pacer when things get troubled. I’m thinking it wouldn’t surprise me if he goes next door and asks old man McGuinness if he’s up for a night of star watching. I’d bet he stops on his way from the store and buys a telescope, even though he knows we can’t afford it.

He’ll come up with some story about how beautiful meteors are. Like he’s ever seen one. He falls asleep right after super, 6:30, and he’s snoring up a Milky Way alright. He can’t even stay up till ten on New Years Eve. He says it’s because he needs the extra sleep to get ready for all the things he’s got planned for the New Year.

I asked him what those plans might be, and he just kind of mumbled. I asked again what the plans might be, just in case I was included. He says, “I’ve been thinkin seriously about savin the world. Somebody’s got to do it, and the mess we got for a government, you know they can’t tie their own shoes without getting approval from our Supremist Court. Always thought the courts were supposed to interpret law, not pretend it didn’t exist, before they got their hands on it.” And then he’ll say he’s going upstairs to get a better look at the neighbors yard. He says McGuiness is one of those people who’s bringing the property values down, if you let him. He goes over there when McGuinness is at church and cuts his grass. Just the front, so as people will think our neighborhood is keeping up with the suburban class. 

I don’t know if something is going on with him or not. He asked me the other day, before he knew of the meteor, if I had thought about what I’d like to do after I died? He said he thought he’d come back just to make sure people were keeping the place up. He hates to see anything deteriorate. It’s that father thing again. It got into his head, that everything has to be better than it needs to be. I’m thinking even the meteor isn’t going to change that. It just won't be good enough, I know it.

He’s back. He didn’t come right in, so I figured he’s already eaten the ice cream. Now he’s pulling the lawn chair out by McGuiness and he’s got a radio with him. Sounds like the races going on are getting interpreted by a sports announcer who can’t see any reason to call off the game because of a guess, some weather guy is making. 

I have to admit, people are taking this whole thing better than I would have imagined. I thought there would be panic. Everyone for themselves. But the street is still quiet except for the two old fools out front, and that doctor fellow who keeps telling me, “Everything will be alright, you’ll see, you'll see.”

He seems to enjoy repeatin himself.