Guy.”
After a few hours filled with catching up with the old man, playing portable video games with his nephew, more kisses to his forehead and several bags of unwanted leftovers shoved into his arms from his mother, Dane hugged everyone goodbye and left the house. It felt good to visit home. Moments like this helped his soul; his spirit fed off of his family’s closeness, not only the family meal. He made his way to his car, which he’d parked in front of the suburban Cape Cod style house with white shingles and windows covered in thick cream curtains. As he started the car, he said a silent ‘Thank You’ for having such a warm, loving family...especially since he knew that so many people didn’t have such a blessing, and nowhere to call their very own. Even if, deep down, some wires were loose, and some pain remained unresolved, he still felt grateful and positive, for he’d seen much worse in his vocational travels.
But as soon as he left the warmth of his family home, the truth inside him would come to light, and tempt him with temporary solutions. He fought the darkness, the negativity—the truth in its sinister, cold, nasty natural form. Dark secrets lived inside him, stuffed away in dank recesses of a vivid remembrance. Nothing he couldn’t handle...he had to handle it because it wasn’t a choice. Too many people were depending on him to be strong, to be the rock, the backbone—and he was, regardless of the emotional weight that threatened to break him in two...
~***~
A few days later...
Dane couldn’t part with his grin. The expression had completely taken over his face, broad-siding him and making his cheeks ache as they arched upward— freezing his happiness in place, for all patrons to see. He watched closely out the frosted restaurant window, gripping the table as he sat at the two-seater bar –style table right at the front of the restaurant. He observed as his best friend, Josh Perkins, made his way across the street toward him, a newspaper covering his head as he dodged the raindrops and oncoming traffic. Josh pushed through the front doors, his light brown eyes darting around the place, searching for Dane.
“Josh!” Dane called out, waving to him. With a smile, Josh walked to the table and took a seat. Dane gave his friend the once over.
What in the world? He doesn’t look right...
Dane looked the man directly in the eye and hugged him tightly, hardly able to hide his concern. The rain seeped through Josh’s dark brown leather jacket down to his striped blue and white Polo shirt. But the man was entirely too frail, as if he’d evaporated, leaving only a shell and a memory of what he once was. He stood back and again scanned the man from head to toe. Josh’s face appeared distended, the muscle tone lost. When Dane had first spotted him crossing the street, he’d hoped somehow that the downpour was distorting his friend’s image through the window, that the man had simply lost a few pounds, nothing too severe. No, this was something more than the results of a low-carb diet.
The once attractive, six foot two fellow high school football star was a mere shadow of his former self. His straight, sandy brown hair clung to his forehead, and the glimmer that once shone in his mischievous golden eyes was gone. Cracked, dry lips—near bleeding—stood out in a pale face, tinged with blue. Dane braced himself for a story he didn’t want to hear for this was his friend, his brother, the man who knew everything in the world about him...
Both men took their seats. Dane sat down slowly, his eyes still focused on the man before him.
“Nice to see you, Dane. So good to see you, bro.”
Dane coughed into his fist and looked around—anywhere but at his friend. His heart sank. He considered himself a bit of an intuitive—it helped with the job, and he realized that this dinner with a long-time friend was going to hurt him to his core.
“Yes,” Dane said quietly as he sat back in
M. R. James, Darryl Jones