Disengagement

By

Morgan La Femina

Attribution Non-Commercial No Derivatives

Mel slumped over his seat. He was at a Diner over on the south end. He was quite tired

from a long day at the office, having plenty to do that day and having had plenty accomplished

during his time there. Of course his boss did not think much of his work but then his Principle

was making a good two million off his sales reps. He still had more to do tomorrow and the next

day. He was thinking of traveling in on Saturday against his wife’s wishes. Mel would rise up in

the early morning sunshine, leave his friend and companion alone, routinely ready himself and

make the hour long commute.

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 “How many Saturdays?” Who knows, he would ask himself. They had bills to pay and

that is what he was there for; they did just keep on coming.

Jenny would awaken without him in their bed and look around to see still another

yellow sticky note. The note would be hastily written and she would get little comfort from it or

nowadays nothing from it. Jenny had faded just as soon as the yellow notes came into their life.

She would look out the window of her small starter home and see the cars pass by, a bird or

two with their spring chicks feeding about the overgrown front lawn. Mel knew when he

arrived home she would be inebriated again, drunk. He had to mow the lawn after he tended to

her a bit. He knew that she had slowly replaced him with a thick glass bottle of fire that burned

down her throat. It burned him down through his heart. Hell, he had to pay for it and Mr. JD

was not cheap.

The server was cleaning some of the empty tables: the place emptier than not. There

was a man and a woman looking over their coffee at each other, in love. “What was love?” Mel

asked himself, long-suffering or through the pain or the upward descent toward accumulating

wealth? How far can you go to survive? How much money can you possibly make to pay off

your life? They had to live and he knew they simply just were not. He looked again at the

server; perhaps the bus boys were taking a break in the back. Mel rubbed the stubble on his

face he needed a shave. She took the weight of both now and for a time.

The waitress noticed him and came over, "Are you ready to order?"

Mel looked at the menu and rubbed his eyes, smiling at her. She was attractive with

long black hair, held back, "I will take a number two"
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 "Two?"

Mel looked down at himself and his blue and black tie, "Two."

"Okay," She said, and he gave her the menu, "Be back shortly."

Mel watched her leave and then he glanced back at the other couple. Mel turned to

look out the large windows of the Diner from his booth. At first, he was more aware of the glass

than what lay beyond. He saw himself and then refocused; it was pitch black out with only a

dim street light and the Diner sign showing up in the wall of darkness. An occasional car went

by. Mel pulled at his cuff links, picking at them. He had his suit on much too long, his shirt

sticking to him from sweat, but he refused to undo his tie knot. Why he just really did not know

but he was used to it anyway.

Mel took the drive home. He was half way to there and half way from work, between

both worlds but never in one permanently. Mel turned on his phone and put the clip in his ear,

listening to the message she left him two hours ago. He hurt as he forgot to respond to her

plea. He just did not have the time and he missed it by accident. It made the hole in him that

much deeper. He noticed the gas gauge was reading low. Mel took a deep inhale of cabin air

and pulled over to get fuel. He swiped his card and pressed no, which lit up black on a green

glow background. The fuel went in and his account went down. He closed his eyes...he was so

tired. An image of a piece of land upstate flashed before his eyes, all green and full of trees. He

could almost smell it. He needed to get home. Mel needed to hold onto his wife. A sound came.

It was soft at first, a low drone and then loud and bright, flashing red before him.

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 He opened his eyes as it slashed passed him and through the night. The night returned,

the suffocating intensity of quiet, he knew well. It was gone just as it came. Mel slammed the

nozzle back onto the pump and fell into his car. Mel rubbed his eyes, yawned then his stomach

began to burn. He drove and pressed his shoe to the accelerator. The car pounded and he

began to panic. He could not breathe.

Mel rushed out of his car tripping onto the ground, a rock tearing his pant leg, drawing

blood, the dirt covering his pinstripe suit, “Hey!”

He ran up to his door, the door nearly split by a forced entry from the police, ambulance

and the sounds and lights of death swarming around him. He ran up the steps pushing a police

officer. "Hey! Wait! Stop-"

Mel turned to him, "She is my wife!"

Another officer: "Wait!"

The paramedics threw the limp Jenny on the stretcher, covered her with blankets and

pounded on her chest. She had blood and vomit along the side of her face and mouth. Jenny's

blond hair was in clots. Mel ran over to her and fell onto the stretcher as they were moving her.

"Jenny!"

A paramedic yelled at him, "You have to get back sir!"

"She is my wife!"

"You can ride with us sir, but you have to get back!"

“Shit, Jenny!”

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 He followed the speeding ambulance, down the road and around. The emergency doors

glided effortlessly open. They took her in. He closed his eyes and there was nothing.

Mel found himself in the first floor chapel of the hospital. He had brought her to the

hospital before but never like this. It was empty save for a bible and some well-worn seats. A

quiet place at least. He did not want to think, or even if he could what he should. He

remembered what he had said to the paramedic, that she was his wife. He wished things were

better. It had not started out this way but it rather got that way. Mel knew it did not. He wished

he could be free. What he wanted-

A man imperceptibly walked in. It was, he thought, the Chaplin. Mel turned his head

away to make him think he had not noticed. The Chaplin sat next to him, or at least Mel

thought he was. Mel looked down at his blue and black tie. The Chaplin spoke softly to him,

"Nice and quiet in here, huh?"

Mel felt uncomfortable. He turned to him at this point but still kept his head down; the

Chaplin was an older gentleman dressed in the traditional black, "Yeah, I've had enough noise

for a while."

The chaplain went to shake Mel’s hand, "Bill."

Mel shook his hand looking up, "Mel."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Mel-" Bill said with a smile. He seemed rather at peace.

Mel wiped his brow for a second. There was a long pause and then a break in the

silence, "Can I ask you a question Bill?"

"Sure."
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 "Can you just walk away?"

Bill ran his fingers over his graying beard, "What do you mean?"

Mel thought about it for a moment. "To just get out of the race and take the pain and

leave it all behind."

The chaplain was puzzled, "The race- the pain?"

"Financially, losing what we have and what we worked hard for and just leaving- going

someplace where we can get some peace?"

The chaplain looked at him warmly: "Mel, I think you’re talking to the wrong person."

Mel was startled, "Why?"

Bill smiled again at him, "I already have myself."

Mel went up to the ICU unit full of glass, machines and a blue trim along the white walls.

He asked for the doctor who told Mel that Jenny was stable for the night, that he should get

some rest and come back in the morning. He went to her as she was on a respirator, kissed her

forehead, "Goodnight, princess." He loosened his tie, sat for a while and fell fast asleep.

Mel took off the next day and then with a very bitter conscience the next. His boss

Carter, the principal of the agency, was disgruntled about Mel’s hasty decisions. He stood in his

Principles office. Carter looked at Mel fiercely, “Mel, I don’t know what the hell you are doing

around here anymore.”

Mel stood up from his chair: “Mr. Carter, listen I need time for me and my wife. She has

gotten real sick and I need to take care of here.”

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 Carter pointed at a stack of files, “These are contracts, contracts that you never secured

because you’re out there bullshitting with your clients when you should be selling insurance!

These are from my other agents.”

“I know Mr. Carter.”

“Your coming in on Saturdays now right, to pick up the slack?”

Mel looked down at Carter clenching a fist, “Listen, I care about my clients first- sales

come second- I need to know them first-“

Carter had a mirror next to him on the wall, a big oval one. He stood and interrupted

Mel, pointing: “Mel, you should have told me this before you came on board.”

“Well my wife wasn’t in a coma then.”

Carter nodded, “Go see her, take a few days off- then come back strong and we then

need you to work Saturdays- its rollover season.”

Mel looked at him and at the mirror, “Fuck you, Carter.”

Mel had a proposal and four clients to meet by. Carter did not like this because it was

going to cost Carter in time and money. The wholesalers were arriving next week and the

principal was enthusiastic that Mel would close a sale or two before then. Mel just had enough

and no amount of money would bring back what he had lost. He needed to salvage his life,

some things money can’t buy and to hell with their debt.

Mel went to the front desk, "I need a pass to the third floor."

The elderly volunteer wrote it out and smiled, "Here you go, sweetheart."
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 Mel rode the stainless steel elevator. He wore his jeans and polo shirts because he was

off work and he would be from now on. The battle inside was difficult, the war destructive. He

was so tired. The last time he had taken off work or did not have a suit on, he just could not

remember. Out of the steel elevator, he stepped and through the ICU doors. He found her

doctor, Doctor Ramirez, "Doctor?"

Doctor Ramirez turned around in white, "Oh, hi there-"

"How is she doing?"

"Well I mean she is in and out, but as soon as she is more conscious and her stomach is

okay we’re going to give her some ice chips and then start her on soft food- Jell-O. I would like

to transfer her today to the fifth floor." The doctor looked at Mel sternly, "She dodged the

bullet this time, your very fortunate."

Mel nodded and looked down again, "I know."

Mel found her room entered and stood over her. She was breathing on her own and the

warm color of life was returning. Jenny was covered with blankets and an IV was still stuck in

her arm. She was half-away awake but eventually noticed him. Softly, Jenny spoke to him,

"Mel?"

He caressed her hair, still matted but it seemed brighter than he had remembered it-

almost in a whisper, "It's me."

She smiled a bit then started to cry a little, "Mel I'm sorry."

Mel wiped away her tears and kissed her on her cheek, almost like the wind on a sunny

day, "Shhhh, it’s okay."

He was quite literally heartbroken. He had been for such a long time.
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 "Mel, I know you work so hard, and-"

Something inside Mel simply collapsed, the weight on both scales fell shattering the

chains. Mel had enough of what they had become, with warmth that was called up from where

he just did not know, maybe from the depths of his soul, "Listen, remember that piece of land

upstate?"

Jenny still sobbing a bit, "Yes."

"Well, I cashed in my retirement and our bonds and I bought it. We talked about buying

it for so long and she knew us from before so-"

Jenny started to cry again, "Mel, how are we going to make it?"

Mel pleading: "Jenny, don't worry we will."

Her eyes started to light up a bit, in hope in the last remaining threads of a bond of love

between them and life itself, "Oh."

He pulled from inside him the last remaining authority over control of his life and family’s

life, "I promise."

Jenny nodded, "I hope so."

Mel was tired...he had had enough, "I want to close your eyes."

She did simply in part because she was still exhausted from the fight.

"Tell me Jenny what do you see?"

"Green." Jenny opened her eyes, "I see some green-" and for the first time in a long

time, her eyes were bright, "I saw green."

"Yeah, Jenny…me too."

"Mel, I don't know why but it was all green."

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 Mel gripped her hand, "I know."

Jenny smiled, "I didn't know you had such deep blue eyes." still sobbing a bit, "Mel, I had

forgotten."

Mel held her as best he could, "Rest, it’s all over. Jenny, rest it is all over."

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