It was
Halloween and approaching midnight. No one ever came to the apartment complex
for trick or treat. Not even the few
youngsters that lived at the end of the quarter mile sprawl of buildings.
Fifteen hundred apartments in a square where everyone was a stranger.
The old
man sat in the dark sucking on a Bacardi Rum and Coke staring at the boob tube.
For the past two hours he had watched infomercials soliciting viewers to
purchase first, Dean Martin TV shows with famous guest stars like John Wayne,
and now, Time Warner’s offer of the Hee-Haw series starting back in 1969.
He sat
there, stretched out in his Lazy Boy, Rum and Coke in his left hand, his right
hand stroking the old cat sleeping in his lap.
Tears
welled in his eyes as he watched the infomercial with Roy Clark urging him to
call the 800 number to purchase the entire series for only five payments of $
19.95 each, shipping included. The tears
were not from thinking about the prices. The tears were because of the memories
the last two hours of programming had brought forth. For him, memories of
better times. Times when he had family, friends, a career, a home to go to
every night where he was safe, and loved.
That was
all gone now. Just like the stars of those old programs, most of his friends
and family were gone. Of those who remained, few communicated anymore. He heard from his sons and grandchildren
maybe two or three times a year, if he was lucky. Everyone had their own world and the demands
that it made upon them. The concept of
family, even extended family, was a thing of the past, suppressed by the new
culture of modern society.
Conway
Twitty was now singing “Hello, Darlin’. It’s been a long time.” He felt a
twinge as he remembered all those he had loved, the two women he had married,
and a few he wished he had. How he wished he could return to those old times.
“Yeah,
it’s been a long time,” the old man sighed as he flipped the TV off and pushed
himself out of the chair. The cat jumped to the floor.
It was
pitch dark in the apartment as he padded his way across the living room towards
the bedroom. He felt his bare foot come
down on the cat’s golf ball, then his legs going out from under him as fell
backwards onto the floor.
He never
saw the golf ball propel itself upwards, striking the ceiling, and hurtling
downward. Nor did he feel the pain it brought as it struck his forehead with a
crack.
What he
saw next was John Wayne standing in front of him, right hand extended, saying,
“Hello Partner, it’s been a long time. C’mon in and set a spell.”
