Lights Out

Friday 8:30AM February

Once you’ve taken this step there is no going back. Looking up at the Tobin Memorial Bridge shimmering in the hot August sun, Jakob realized today is the day he had been contemplating for weeks. The end. Lights out. Dead. Standing there motionless watching the Boston commuters scurry into the T station on their way to jobs they probably hated and families they loved, he was struck with the pain of what brought him here today. The brink of his own personal destruction and part of him wished the people around him could see into his soul and help him, touch him, reach him in a way that he truly needed. But they continued to pass by him, too consumed with their own lives to be concerned for a lonely, desperate and invisible man.

Reaching into his pocket, Jakob palmed his phone nervously, eventually pulling it out and playing the most recent voicemail. “ Jakob honey, its Lisbeth. Just wanted to tell you how much I love you and I’ll be at the airport to get you. Safe travels.” Swiping through older messages, he landed on one from earlier this year and with a trembling hand hit play: “ Jakob the pain is getting worse and now there is blood, please hurry…. “

Tuesday 7:45AM November

“Mr Novak, your wife was rushed here because she was in preterm labor, combined with a small amount of bloody discharge. She’s resting now and both symptoms have stopped after we administered a dose of Terbutaline, but as she is at 30 weeks, we would like to admit her just to keep an eye on her progress.” Standing motionless, Jakob finally asked, “what about the baby, my daughter.” “So far, doing well and no signs of fetal distress. You should probably go see her, she’s been asking about you,” waving his hand toward a cracked door with a square silver plate, the numbers 333 glinting from the early morning sun. 

Walking toward the door, Jakob noticed a few Thanksgiving cards propped on the nurse’s station and was overcome with feelings of fear, excitement and the need to vomit all at the same time. Opening the door to the room, he was blasted with the smell of disinfectant and the sight of his beautiful wife Magda hooked up to a fetal monitor, IV bag and a multitude of other medical equipment all designed to keep her and his unborn child safe. 

He drew close to her bed, forcing a smile “ sweetheart, its all ok.” he said, doing his best to reassure her while inside he felt his world flip flop. “The doctor says it was premature labor, but you’re fine now.” reaching out to touch her pregnant belly, “ and so is our little Sophia.” The cell phone beeping on the bedside table jarred them both clear of the moment. Magda glanced at the phone. “Oh, its mama. I called her too. Can you call her back please?” handing the phone to Jakob. “ You know how she is, she’ll keep calling or show up here.”

7PM December

Frozen. Time standing still. Jakob stared out the window as the snow slowly drifted down to the ground turning the manicured lawn into a white blanket, the pain in his heart matched only by the agony in his legs. “Why God, why?” whispering quietly. “What ever happened to all things work together for those that love God?” “Jakob, I’m sorry to disturb you, but we should probably get started, some of your family has started to arrive a bit early.” Following him out of the side room into the lobby, he was struck with the finality of it all. The tiny white casket propped up on a pedestal surrounded by several poinsettias and bright red and yellow mums, but no matter how many flowers were circling it, it doesn’t hide the fact it was his beautiful little Sophia. Gone. Passed. Dead. It was all he could do to not fall to his knees and wail. 

“Is my ex-wife here yet?”

“I’m sorry, no. Not yet.” Placing his hand gently on Jakob’s shoulder, the funeral director guided him to the front of the room while Jakob grabbed the wooden cane propped against the wall, wincing in pain as he stepped forward. 

“Would you mind grabbing my bag please and handing me the pills in the front, I should probably take my meds before this gets any worse.” Stooping to pick up the bag, he stops abruptly when he sees the pill bottle label.

“Why didn’t you tell me. I recognize these. My wife takes them. “ These are for metastatic bone cancer.”

“Because it’s none of your business. And what’s the difference anyway. My newborn daughter is dead, my wife left me and according to the geniuses at the medical center, I have less than six months to live. Now if you really want to help,” screaming while snatching the pills. “Find the minister so we can get this nightmare over with.”

2PM January

“Jakob, why do you want to dredge up the past? It’s gone, over with. Buried. 

“Because Baba, I need to know if it’s true.” raising the petite cup to his mouth to finish the last drops of coffee. 

“We had no choice, your grandfather and I. The Nazi’s gave us no choice.”

Closing his eyes and dropping his head.” So it is true. You helped them with the Final Solution. “Oh dear God. This is unbelievable. “ Standing up quickly he nearly knocked the cups off the table. “ Now it all makes sense. My crappy useless life. The awful jobs, no cash, a stillborn daughter, a ex-wife that is in permanent psychosis and now cancer.” Pacing the room, he continues his tirade. “This is all your fault. All of it. You and Poppa and your cowardice!! I never ever believed in stupid ancient curses but now, oh now I see how I’ve been punished.” Staring back at his Baba with one final outburst. “ I will never ever forgive you for this.”

9:15AM February 

Walking along the desolate footpath towards the bridge, Jakob was oddly overcome with a sharp sense of peace, content in the knowledge of finally making a decision of his own free will. No baggage. No curses. No regrets. Kicking a stray rock out of the way his mind was focused solely on getting his power back.