Albert

Albert jerked his eyes open. Something was vibrating. He sat up. He lifted his blankets and didn't see anything. He looked at the bedside stand. Nothing. He opened the drawer. Light pierced his eyes. He squinted and picked up a foreign object. He moved his thumb to the side of the device and pressed down as if his muscles knew exactly what to do. The vibrating stopped.

Words flashed on the screen. “Today is grandma's birthday! Tell her happy birthday! Ps: your favorite granddaughter” 

“Today is Bethany's birthday? How could I have forgotten such an important day?”

He uncovered himself from the blankets and stood. Blood rushed to his head. His vision went dark and returned back to him. He let out a faint groan and placed his hand on his lower back. 

He checked the time. 4:08 AM. 

“Every doggone store will be closed this hour,” he thought.

He felt his way out of the bedroom, careful not to wake his wife.

He made it out successfully. He flipped on the hallway light, and shuffled to the stairwell. He froze and peered down as far as his eyes could see, the stairs went on for eternity. He dug his fingers into the guardrail . The railing was slippery from the profuse sweat of his palms. He took a step. Then another. And another veering deeper into oblivion. 

The stairs were not that high. He knew that. He could remember a time where he raced down them with joy. He could even remember carrying his wife up them. He let out a heavy sign. Tears blurred his vision. He swept them away. 

“Focus on the doggone task. Focus.” 

He grit his teeth and took the final step. He securely placed his foot on the tiled floor. A shiver struck through his spine. He crossed his arms over his chest. 

He patted the wall. His fingers hit something cold and sleek. He felt his way around it and flipped a switch. Light blinded him. His eyes adjusted and he paced, searching his mind for an idea. 

“How can I make this day special for her? It's too late to buy anything.”

“Or is it too early? Is it early or is it late? It's a paradox. It's madness! It's…”

Albert shifted his eyes up the stairwell. 

“I was in bed moments ago…moments ago.” 

Albert stood in place. He couldn't move. He was a statue. Stone perhaps. But he could breathe. Could stone breathe? No. He was definitely human. He was a man. What was he doing? He was doing something; he was sure of it. 

“My wife's birthday,” he remembered. 

HIs gut twisted in knots. He sighed heavily. 

“Focus on the doggone task! focus.” 

He stepped into the garage. He opened a box. Then another and another till he found it. Decorations of sorts. Red fabric tied in elegant knots he had never seen before. “She will love this.” He searched the box more. A yellow starfish caught his eye. It had a cylinder base. So it could stand on its own of course. His wife loved the ocean. He set the starfish and ribbons aside. 

He dug to the bottom of the box. A plant. It was a miracle it was still green. It had a rough texture and an eloquently tied ribbon on the end similar to the others and it had a single root protruding out.

He had never seen a plant so bizarre in his life. He would have to put it in a planter pot immediately. He held the plant in one hand and picked up the starfish and ribbons in the other. 

He exhaled and with all his muscles, pushed himself to his feet. His knees popped. He groaned and placed his hand on his lower back pausing to let his body settle. When he was ready he shuffled out of the garage. 

His eyes darted to the left and right. His heart pounded. He didn't recognize anything. He took small steps towards the light in the living room. Sweat dripped from his brow. 

His eyes locked on a glass horse set up above the fireplace mantle. It belonged to his wife. He knew that. He remembered his wife. He looked down at the items in his hands and scrunched his eyebrows together.

He set the items on the sofa, not knowing where to put them or where they had come from.

He sat down. 

“How do I make this a special day for my wife? All the doggone stores are closed.” 

He glanced at the items next to him searching for an idea. He was doing something. He was sure of it.

His body tensed. He sighed loudly and threw himself back against the couch. 

A strange plant caught his attention. He turned his head analyzing it. How is that thing not dead? “It needs to be potted.” He exhaled and stood. His knees popped and he groaned.

He searched the kitchen for a planter pot. He ran his finger along the brim of what appeared to be the perfect pot. It even had a built-in handle. He smiled. 

He went into the backyard and filled it with dirt. Something caught his eye. It was tinted under a blue guise. A flower perhaps. He turned his gaze upward and gasped. Moonlight reflected in his eyes. Never had he seen something with such grace and wonder. 

He couldn't wipe the grin from his face. He felt whole. He felt as if the moon was an old friend he would meet again one day. 

“We are all moons and stars,” he whispered.

He brought the pot inside and set it above the fireplace. He picked up the plant and relaxed his hands as much as his coordination, or lack thereof allowed. His hands shook as he tried to be precise. He stuck the plant in the pot and buried dirt over its base.

“She will love this.” 

The starfish would look great next to the plant. 

Where was the starfish? He had it in his hand moments ago. Where had it gone? 

His memory wasn’t what it used to be. He knew that. He sighed loudly and placed his hands on his hips. Time was running out. The sun would rise soon and there was still so much to do. Albert frowned. His legs felt weak. He needed to rest. 

He plopped on the couch and sighed. He needed to rest his eyes. It had been a long and stressful night. Or morning. Or whatever it was. Albert lost track. 

His body twitched. He jerked his eyes open. 5:30 AM. Time was running out. He saw a yellow glimmer of light to the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw the long lost starfish. Albert laughed and rushed to his feet forgetting his age. His knees popped and he groaned loudly. He pressed his hand against his lower back. He took a moment to compose himself. Then he picked up the starfish and the fancy knotted fabric and placed both on the fireplace mantle.

The decorations were finished! He stepped back and grinned from ear to ear. 

His shoulders popped and ached as he raised his shaking arms to readjust the starfish. The edge of his palm pushed against the horse. His heart jumped, causing his arm to twitch, pushing the horse off the mantle. 

Albert’s heart stopped. He watched in slow motion as the horse fell and shattered. He stared down in disbelief.

Time was running out. He wanted to impress his wife, and a broken mess on the floor would ruin all his hard work. Surely she heard it break. He needed to act fast.

Before he had a chance to move, he heard shuffling on the stairs. He rushed to see who was coming. 

“Who's that?” His voice quivered.

He squinted his eyes.

“Bethany,” a soft voice replied.

“Go back to bed sweetheart.” 

“What are you doing awake so early?” She continued her way down the steps.

Albert’s heart raced. He glanced over at the broken mess and back at her. 

“I'm answering a fax message.”

She laughed, “Those don't exist anymore.” 

His mind went blank, and he rushed over to the mess. Everything around him went dark with the exception of the broken glass.

He got on his knees and began scraping the glass with his hands. He couldn't let her see this. Shards cut his palms. He quickly swept up the pieces and cupped his hands. He stood. It took everything in him not to let out a groan along with his creaking body. He turned around to head for the trash.  

Bethany gasped.

His eyes bulged and he froze. 

Blood dripped from his cupped hands onto the floor.

His eyes met hers.

“I decorated for you my love. Happy birthday.” His voice was raspy and weak. 

“Your hand.” her voice quivering.

“Never mind that.” 

Bethany's eyes shifted towards the fireplace mantle. 

Red Christmas bows rested near a cooking pot stuffed with dirt. A mistletoe protruded from the soil and a Christmas tree topper star was set up next to it. 

She wrapped her arms tightly around him. She rested her head on his shoulder. His heart erupted in euphoria.

“Oh Albert,” her voice quivered.

He heard a smile through her words. He knew she loved it. Albert grinned, his cheeks pale, and shuffled his legs and feet, dancing his way to the kitchen. 

Bethany wiped away her tears. She laughed and followed him to address the wounds.