Forgive Me Father For I Have Loved (12 page)

He smiled at her, a smile of appreciation, and warmth. “And, is your name really Rhapsody? Or...am I going too far? Delving too deep? I never spoke to you in high school; I never knew your name...”

She shook her head and looked briefly away. “Yes, my name is
really
Rhapsody, but my last name is not Blue. I just use that for my performances. My real last name is Thomason.”

“I’ll call you Rhapsody Blue...it suits you.”

“Thank you, Dane.” And there it was again, that sparkle in his eyes. She found herself holding back a smile.

He accepted her answers, nodding, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that, from his expression, he had more questions. However, like all other days before this, they stopped, said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Next time, they may pick up the conversation where they last left off, and other times, they’d start clean—just like the brand new day they’d been given...

~***~

Dane sat in the nursing home lobby gripping his leather-bound, worn black Bible. He’d finished his rounds, and usually, even with them being so close to death, and him losing people he’d befriended, he was in a good mood after seeing a smile or two on his favorite elderly patients’ faces. Mrs. White would slowly creep past him, her smiling dark brown eyes twinkling under the harsh ceiling lights. Unable to speak, she’d gently tap his knee as she walked past. Mr. Harris always greeted him with a toothy grin, his thick rimmed glasses sliding down the long bridge of his freckled nose. The man was an inspiration; in terrible pain and a double leg amputee, he kept in good spirits and became a good friend.

Regardless, Dane felt heavy uneasiness and he wasn’t sure how to rid himself of the emotions. He wanted to discard them, throw them away in some invisible receptacle in the sky, but instead, they grew by the minute, festering. He continued to have times like this as he struggled with what the future held, but today, something happened that caused him alarm, something he hadn’t anticipated, and it tore at him in ways that left him emotionally exhausted. Nevertheless, he wanted to gather his thoughts and get himself together before he drove back home, and the best way for him to do it was to think about how he felt and why, and try to get through the ordeal, ask the important questions. He traced his steps in his mind.

When he’d arrived at the nursing home, he’d felt perfectly fine. He did his usual tour of duty, walking from room to room, talking with various people, and stopping to say hello to the staff that seemed to truly appreciate his visits. He’d also left the usual bouquet of yellow roses for Ms. Ivy, a woman who held a special place in his heart and was soon to be moved to hospice in the next day or two. Then, he walked into the cafeteria to get a glass of water before heading out for the day. Just then, he spotted a man he’d never seen before sitting at a small, round table, isolated, all alone with his thick salt and pepper eyebrows bunched, hovering over two sullen, cloudy blue eyes.

Dane walked up to him and extended his hand. The man’s body straightened from his previously slumped position and his gaze slowly drifted upward. The two men locked eyes but the gentleman’s look of disdain didn’t lessen. Instead, he grunted and clung tighter to the edge of his chair. Dane looked at the table; the man’s food seemed untouched and a balled up napkin lay next to his plate, as if he’d taken all of his aggression out on the poor thing.

“Hello. My name is Fr. Caruso. I come here every week and—”

“Oh, here we go.” The man glowered, disgust in his tone. “I’m not Catholic and I don’t care.” He huffed, turning away and looking toward nothing in particular.

“Well, it is nice to meet you all the same.” Dane kept his smile and a small part of him was tickled at the man’s response. He’d seen it many times before, and considered the man now a much welcomed challenge.
“Do you mind if I have a seat?” He pointed to the chair across from him.

The man looked at him, rolled his eyes, but remained silent.

Dane sat down and clasped his hands together. “This is a nice day for a walk. Would you like me to walk with you? We can go into the garden, or just hang around.”

“What the hell for? I don’t wanna walk. What’s the purpose of that?” He looked away as he continued to rant. “I’m in the Forest Grove Nursing Home! I’m old, but I know where I am. No one gives a damn about me, and you’re not different from anyone else. Just go away,” he wheezed and waved Dane away, as if shooing a mangy dog that had wandered in from the outside.

Dane grinned and cocked his head to the side. “You know, I’m a good listener. You seem upset. What’s bothering you?”

“I just told ya! What are you, hard of hearing? Ya deaf?!” the man hollered, spit shooting out of his mouth. Dane was unmoved and kept his same expression.

“Damn it, I’m in this nursing home. I don’t have anybody to take care of me, no one! I don’t wanna talk, I don’t wanna walk, I don’t wanna eat!” The old man gave his tray a hard shove, causing the contents to tumble in various directions. The open container of milk saturated the napkin, making it soppy.

“That’s fine.” Dane said calmly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but being alone is a choice.”

“Like hell it is! You can be in a room full of people, and still be alone. I’ve been alone my whole life, after all the service I did. I am a Vietnam Vet!” The man sat straighter and proudly poked his chest with the tip of his finger. “I paid my dues, and this is the damn thanks I get...sitting here with bland food, no one speaking to me for days on end unless it is to force me to take a pill. And here comes a chipper, know-it-all priest boy with a smug smile on his face trying to uplift me in my time of need!” he sneered, sarcasm dripping off the words. “I served my country, no one gives a shit about me. I’m useless now. Old and can’t keep hold of my own piss!”

Dane’s smile and resolve slowly began to melt. The words hit him in the gut—they hit him harder than bricks—and resonated deep within his core as he now felt a heaviness in his heart. He repeated what the man said in his mind,
You can be in a room full of people, and still be alone...

He quickly gathered himself. “Well, talking may help and you aren’t alone right
now
. I’m with you.”

The man exhaled loudly and slapped the table, a cheerless grin across his wrinkled face.

“You just don’t get it, do ya?” he sighed as they both observed another old man moseying past, his hands trembling as he carried a tray passed them. “I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you. You aren’t my friend, my brother, nothin’. These bastards in here, like that guy that just walked by, he shits on himself, but at least his son and grandkids come to visit. When a guy likes you comes around, it means the person is dyin’, at heaven’s gate. You’re the damn grim reaper!” He laughed, tears welling in his eyes. “I’ve been here two weeks; no one has come to see me. Notta one!”

“Well, maybe I can help you contact your family so we can arrange that. I can speak with them and we can get some things settled.”

“Call who?! I ain’t got a wife, never had one! No kids, no grandkids, parents been dead since I was thirteen and my sisters and brother are clear across the country in their own state of falling apart! Who needs it!”

“You are angry, and I understand it. In times like these, we have to trust God and—”

“ Ha! What a joke! I wish you all would just let me die in peace. Where was God when I had bullets flyin’ past my head and saw my cousin get his brains blown out, huh?! Where was God when I had to throw several of my comrades’ body parts in a home-made grave I dug with my bare hands so that their bodies wouldn’t be desecrated by those bastards? I came back to Michigan and people threw food and beer at me, Americans! Home of the brave! Told me I was a killer and the war was bogus! I was gone, living in hell fightin’ for their freedom and they spit at me! You and your God can kiss my white, wrinkled ass and you are a priest, that’s funny!” The man ended with a maniacal chuckle.

Dane leaned back in his seat and studied the man. He was a stranger, he didn’t know his name, yet he seemed so familiar in that moment, as if they’d had this conversation before. It had a hint of déjà vu, and he found it unnerving.

“Why is that funny? Nothing you’ve shared is funny. It is heartbreaking. That doesn’t make God any less real though. You have to rise above this, you’re better than this.”

“Oh, it’s
plenty
funny,” the man continued to laugh, “because you’re no better off than me. If I had to do it all over again, I’d choose differently, that’s for damn sure. You are going to end up just like me. Just you wait and see.” He vigorously shook his head, a smirk on his face. “Look how young you are? Living in nursing homes...And I ain’t queer, but you’re good lookin’, too. If I had to do it all over again, I sure as hell wouldn’t be wastin’ my life away like you, goin’ to prisons, hospitals and walkin’ around watching people die. You got your whole life ahead of ya! I don’t understand your religion. I don’t understand your God that you keep defending. Bunch of kooks! Forcing young boys to give their whole lives away, to what? The army did the same thing to me. The army takes young boys and makes ’em choose and then throws ’em away! You are in the same fight and you don’t even know it.”

“How so?” Dane fought his emotions, and continued to engage the man; he was driven to do so.

“You’ll get old and still be in the same spot you are right now,
alone.
No family, no one carin’ about you. They only care about cha when you’re useful. Once people get done usin’ ya, they’ll throw ya away like some old dishrag. After that happens, then you can come talk to me about this great God you serve. I bet you’ll be singing a different tune!”

And with that, the man hobbled to his feet. His chair abruptly hit the floor as he stomped away, leaving Dane alone, stewing in his own thoughts. After a while, Dane got up and picked up the man’s tray of scattered food. He placed it in the trash receptacle and headed toward the front of the building. Normally, he’d get in his car and drive away, but instead, he sat down on a bench in the lobby and held that Bible so tight, it twisted in his grip. He now understood why he felt so out of sorts. It wasn’t the interaction within itself, or even what the man had said. He’d heard things like that before, and you had to have a tough skin when dealing with the public. It was something much worse, something that dug deep inside of him and brought up the recent struggles he’d been tormented by, night after night—for he couldn’t shake away the thought that that man was his
future
. Looking at him had been like looking at himself, fifty years down the line, and this haunted him. He could feel the forthcoming nightmares being sewn together and he hadn’t even closed his eyes. That stranger was no stranger at all. It was as if he’d looked into a mirror of what was to come.

Dane was on the frontline, serving the people, a faithful servant to the Church. There was honor in that, and he’d paid his dues. But after it had all been said and done, and he’d sacrificed it all, then what? Would he be okay with giving more of himself than he could afford? Would he look back and wonder about all the ‘what ifs’ and ‘could’ve beens’? Would he be filled with horrible regrets after decades of faithful provision? He knew it was possible. At that moment, the fear birthed inside of him, real and all encompassing, no longer a shadow of itself, looming here and there. He now knew, despite the differences, there were too many similarities to the old man’s story and his own worries and concerns, things he hadn’t dared utter, but troubled him nonetheless. That man was no stranger at all. That angry soul was him...

~***~

Rhapsody sat at the edge of her bed, a candied orange slice dangling out the side of her mouth as she peered down at the sheet music. She’d been fussing with a new song and it had her by the throat. Slightly raw from the morning’s practice, she chewed the candy, tossed the paper aside and gulped her warm lemon tea.

Mmmm, that’s better...

Her doctor had warned her to give her throat a rest for at least a week, and she’d promised, knowing full well as soon as she left his office with her prescription in hand, she’d be right back in front of that piano, singing a tune. She couldn’t help herself—what he’d asked of her was like expecting a child to stay away from a grand birthday cake. She did manage to take the rest of the day off. No exercise, no classes, no park...What she was left with were swarthy thoughts of a man that she had no business obsessing about. Yet here she was, once again. Her mind had turned into a ball of bizarre contemplations, and she bounced ideas around, strange ones, with whimsical twists.

What if there is something going on between us? You are crazy, of course there isn’t...

Taking out her cellphone, she searched for the recent photos she’d taken of the man. They were just playing around, and she decided she’d snap some shots. Truth of the matter, she wanted something to look at when he wasn’t in her presence. She hated admitting that the park visits didn’t seem to be enough anymore.

Ahhh, there he is...

She grinned as she gripped her phone, smiling wider and wider until her teeth were exposed.

Damn he is fine...Dane, my God, what a waste. I shouldn’t say that, but shit, that’s how I feel...

She jumped, startled by the phone ringing. She burst out laughing, closed her eyes and clutched the fabric of her shirt before placing the phone to her ear.