A Man Named Dave

asked about Father. And now,” I shouted as my frustration spilled over, “it’s like Father doesn’t exist. It’s too much for them. Or he’s not important enough? I don’t know. They didn’t ask about him –how he’s doing, what’s going on, nothing. They didn’t offer to lift a finger. Everything, all the time, is always them. How they feel their pain. Poor pitiful them. Dammit!” I swore, hitting my knee.
    I quickly caught myself. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t want Alice to think I was upset at her. Feeling myself run out of steam, I added, “I don’t know what I’m doing … I mean, about Father. I just wish I had a real family who loved each other or for once could bury their hate and do what’s right. That’s all I wanna do.”
     
    “David!” Alice cried. “Wake up, we’re late. It’s after nine. We’ve overslept.” Before she could finish, I shot up from the couch, brushed my crumpled fatigues, which I had worn for the last four days, and bolted to the front door. In record time Alice and I arrived at the hospital.
    Sprinting down the hallway, I met Steve at the entrance to Father’s room. Extending his arm, Steve blocked me from entering. “We need to talk,” he stated. Peeking in on Father, I noticed that except for his intensified breathing he seemed the same. But I knew by Steve’s forced smile all I needed to know. “David, you need to understand … sometimes they can’t … they won’t go … until they know the ones they love will be fine. You … ah, get what I’m saying, David?”
    I fully understood, but the moment was too much for me. “Hey, David,” he went on, “your dad, he’s in pain. You have to tell him you’ll be fine. You have to let him go. You understand, right, David? He won’t pass until you do this. Ease his suffering. It’s the right thing for him. It’s the proper thing to do. He won’t pass until …”
    I turned to Alice. “Could you go in and talk to him, please?” I begged, before fleeing to the far end of the hall, where I found a wooden bench. With a million thoughts running through my mind, I became fixated with my cheap Timex watch. It showed a few minutes to ten. Clasping my hands together, I prayed. “I’ve never really asked you for much. And you know what I’ve been through. I guess I thought I could save him…. So, if you could grant me this … if there’s no way that he can get better … then take him. Ease his pain and take my dad. Amen.”
    Not knowing what to do next, I wiped away my tears, cleared my mind, and made my way to Father’s room. A small legion of nurses and specialists, who had probably been Father’s only contact with the outside world for the past few months, cleared a pathway as I stepped into his room. Alice turned toward me after patting Father’s arm. “You’re a good man, Mr Pelzer. God be with you,” Alice said with tears swelling in her eyes, then left the room. From behind me Steve whispered, “Let him go.” Everyone else filed out after him.
    Alone now, I noticed how huge the room seemed. The drapes were wide open, and the sun poured through the windows. Besides the bed, all the other furniture and medical equipment had been removed. The sheet to Father’s bed was crisp, and his gown seemed new. The only sound to be heard was Father’s raspy breathing. Taking a long, hard look, I saw for the first time, below the left side of his neck, that Father’s bandage had been removed. It exposed the blackened area where the cancer had literally eaten his skin. Even then, as much as I wanted to ease his pain, I could not say good-bye.
    Standing by his bed, I took Father’s trembling hand. From behind my eyes I could feel the pressure build, and fought to bury the pain.
    “I, ah, got … some great news,” I lied. “The doctor says everything’s gonna be fine … and that … they can have you up and outta here real soon.” Part of me felt like a heel, and yet the more I talked, the more my fantasy seemed to take hold. Peering into Father’s face, I stated with confidence, “I didn’t tell you this before, but I got a home on the Russian River.” I paused, beaming at Father, who seemed to understand. “It’s got knotty pine walls and ceilings. A stone fireplace, your own room. It’s always warm and sunny. It’s really nice. It’s got everything. It’s on the river, and when the sun goes down, the water’s as smooth as glass. At night you can smell the redwood trees … it’s a piece of heaven, Dad. Heaven.
    “Remember that time when I was a kid and you let me walk with