Dwelling by Thomas S. Flowers

Author:Thomas S. Flowers [Flowers, Thomas S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC
Published: 2015-12-08T00:00:00+00:00

***

Downstairs, breakfast was long over. But, thankfully, a row of heated urns still contained some coffee inside. Johnathan pressed the lever and filled a to-go cup, courtesy of Capital Hill Hotel. He checked his phone. About two hours before I need to be there. He found a lonesome seat near the lounge and dialed Karen. The phone rang twice.

“Hey, mister, why didn’t you call when you landed?” Karen’s voice was full of concern and perhaps a little hurt.

“Sorry, babe. Jet lag. Must have slipped my mind,” Johnathan said, unconvincingly.

“You sound a little rough.”

What are you trying to say?

“Rough night. Always hard sleeping somewhere new.” Johnathan cleared his throat.

“Okay.”

There was a long and uncomfortable silence. Johnathan sipped his coffee.

“So…” Karen started, “all ready for your big speech?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Silence.

“You doing all right?” she probed, her concern as irritating as ever.

Johnathan rolled his eyes.

No, Karen, I’m not. I drank an elephant’s portion of scotch last night. Fancied overdosing off my meds, you know the ones that are supposed to keep me sane and functioning, except all they do is send me on cloud nine or drag me into the gutter. And I’m pretty sure I am going crazy.

Saw Ricky at the airport. Yup, my dead friend Ricky. Real Night of the Living Dead type shit. Oh and he was kind of upset with me—not that I blame the guy or anything. I was the one who was supposed to have his back. Seeing…whatever it was…when I should have seen that raghead with the RPG. But hey, who’s taking score, right? Oh, and the kicker, not only am I hungover, but just about every morning I can feel my toes wiggling, and—for just a moment—for a moment it feels as if my leg is really there, even though I know it’s not. And it pisses me off to no end.

Ricky’s dead and I’m a freak. Do you know how I know I’m a freak? Well, just ask the nice lady who brought me my food last night. Ask that girl just what the fuck she was staring at? Huh? Take a fucking picture you bitch, it’d last longer! I should have told her that, but hey, I don’t mean to get upset. Got me one nice hangover to deal with this morning while I drive over to the VA, limp on stage, and blab on and on about mental health, and positive thinking, and moving beyond our disabilities. You know, hero bullshit type stuff, right? So—yeah, to answer your question, I’m doing just fine and dandy. Tip-top.

“How’s Tabitha?” Johnathan asked.

There was another long and miserable pause. And then the conversation shifted to the business-as-usual talk. Tabitha was doing well. High marks in class. Missed daddy, of course. Daddy missed the hell out of her, too. He missed his little sunshine. And daddy missed mommy too. Despite everything, Johnathan knew he was one lucky son-of-a-bitch. She deals with a lot; it can’t be easy married to me and all my crap.

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