Getting it All Together
He knew he had earned the pain by staying in bed for so long but the book was good. Hemingway seemed to capture exactly where his life was at right now. It was great to finally be pushing forward and living life again instead of just waiting for things to happen. He frowned at a nearby calendar as he realized today was the first day in two weeks he actually would be leaving the apartment.
Rolling on to his side he began to read again when the phone rang. Always, he thought, it never rings in the shower, only when I’m at the good part of a book. He threw himself on to his other side and picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
The voice on the other end had a shrill nasal quality that made it quite unique, and quite annoying, Peterson thought, even though it was his mother’s.
“Hello dear. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No mom. I’m just laying in bed and reading.”
“Again? It’s after 9:00 in the morning. You should be up doing something.”
“There’s nothing for me to do…”
“Nonsense, you could be looking for work or over here doing those repairs you promised you’d do,” she interrupted.
“I was going to say that I had nothing to do because I have a dental appointment today.”
“Oh.”
“And besides I’m expecting a call back on a job.”
“Oh? At the Folsom Agency?”
“No. At a small place in the Broadview District.”
“Oh, another one of those.”
“Just because I don’t want the job dad got me at Folsom doesn’t mean that other places can’t exist.”
“Maybe so but these other places sure haven’t been doing much hiring in the past two months.”
“I told you that I just didn’t feel like working right away.”
“Well you should be doing something more than lying around.”
Peterson paused to collect himself. Why is it that she can always set me off, even when I’m in a good mood?
“I am doing something. I’m going to the bathroom, so I’ll talk to you later,” he hung up the phone before she could say anything more. It wasn’t nice and Dad would yell at him later about it but he wasn’t about to let her ruin a good day.
He swung his legs out of bed and sat up, stretching. Fumbling around a table covered with papers and two months of assorted junk he reached into a bag and pulled out a new scrub brush and soap. As he walked towards the bathroom he pulled off the tag on the brush, then the soap wrapper.
Peterson adjusted the shower head, turned on the water, and stepped in. He turned the temperature to warmer than usual and proceeded to scrub himself vigorously with the soapy brush. The heat made him grimace. But he sighed as he could almost feel the boredom and apathy of the last year being scrubbed off along with the dirt.
He stayed in the shower for almost thirty minutes getting every part of his body cleaner than it had been in a long while. Stepping out of the shower he grabbed a towel and started to dry himself, rubbing very quickly. He had to wipe the steam off of the mirror in order to get a look at himself. Wrapping the towel around his neck he got his razor and beard trimmer out and began to go to work. It took him almost ten minutes to turn a scraggly mass of whiskers into a decent looking beard. He gave himself a final pat of aftershave and went to get dressed.
Wending his way past the piles of dirty T-shirts and shorts Peterson opened the closet door and pulled out a nice shirt and slacks, still as fresh as they were when he got them cleaned and pressed four months ago, for the job interview that never happened. Quickly dressing he walked into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. He was hungry for the first time in a long time, but knew there was little food in the apartment, as there had been little need for it. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he was having a nice lunch at one of the better places in town in order to celebrate his new job.
He started to walk towards the door when his leg shot out from under him. He scrambled to grab the edge of the table and steadied himself. Looking around he spotted the culprit, a wine bottle had slipped out of the box it had been in. Unable to find a permanent place for it, or the others he had gotten from a friend for use as piggy-banks, he set it on the table. He wished they had been rinsed out before he brought them over.
The phone rang, and rang again as he hesitated, wondering if it was his mother again trying to spread her daily dose of gloom. But he remembered his new boss said he might call so he picked up the receiver.
“Hello.”
“This is Dr. Dormus’s office confirming your 1 p.m. dental appointment.”
“Thanks, I’m just leaving to come into town.”
“Great. We also need to remind you that you will be treated under a general anesthetic and that you should plan not to drive.”
“I’ll be taking the bus.”
“Very good, see you at one.”
“Good-bye.”
With that done he started towards the door, but again the phone rang. He muttered something about Grand Central Station and picked it up.
“Hello.”
“Peterson? This is Jim Hope at United Futures. I just wanted to tell you that we’ve had a problem with our new computer systems.”
“That’s too bad”, he said, hearing the door shutting on yet another opportunity.
“A real pain. So there’s no need for you to come in until Thursday as your office is going to be torn apart, or so they tell me.”
“O.K.”, he replied, the door swinging wide open again.
“Sorry about that, but what can you do. I am really looking forward to hearing your ideas. I really think that with a little effort you can go far in this firm.”
“I hope so.”
“So do I. Well, see you on Thursday then.”
“Yes sir.”‘
He didn’t know if his relief stemmed from still having a job or not having to hear his mother say ‘I told you so’. He looked at the clock, which said 10:25, and rushed towards the door praying that he didn’t miss his bus. Remembering that he wanted to take his spare suits in to be mended he stopped did an about-face and quickly retrieved the clothing. In his rush he knocked several stacks of books all over the floor. He’d have to get them later.
Quickly locking his door, he dashed down the hallway, taking the stairs three at a time. Seeing the bus outside he barreled through the door and hurried to the bus stop. He went as fast as possible but he bumped into a post and dropped the bag with his clothes which spilled out into the street. Swearing under his breath he frantically gathered the clothes back into the bag. But as he turned to move again he saw the bus lurching forward, leaving behind a cloud of oily black exhaust.
He stalked over to the bus stop and looked at the schedule posted nearby. Glancing at his watch he snarled and threw the bag down on an empty bench.
“Goddammit. The stupid bus was early”, he sputtered whirling around and smacking the bus sign with a tightly clenched fist.
His tirade lasted for a few seconds. He looked back to the apartment building and saw his landlady glaring at him, the distaste and disapproval almost tangible. He calmed down as he didn’t want to let the strange old bat see him angry.
She wasn’t too fond of renting to young people, thinking they were all drug users and troublemakers, as she was fond of telling him. He remembered how an accident with a shook up pop can almost got him kicked out. She thought his attempt to avoid getting sprayed some sort of drug fit. He never saw her leave her apartment much and she seemed to get most of her information and company from the TV and from tabloid newspapers which she actually had delivered to her doorstep. To think I was turning into someone like her, he mused quietly.
His thoughts were interrupted by another bus. He looked at the number and chuckled as he saw that this was the one he wanted. He waited until everyone got off then boarded, quickly depositing his fare. He sat down near the back by an open window, through which the sun was shining and a fresh breeze was blowing.
As the bus traveled its route he took note of various shops and other places he would soon visit now that he would have a little money in his pocket from a steady job. It would be nice not to have to worry about money. That had been one of the biggest weights on him the past few months.
After about ten minutes he saw his stop coming up and pulled the cord. He got off with a wave to the bus driver and found himself right in front of the cleaners. Even though it was the middle of the day there was only a small line and he was quickly able to drop his suits off. Leaving the cleaners he turned and headed towards a very nice looking restaurant. Looking in the glass in the door he quickly straightened his tie and entered.
“Good morning sir”, the host said as he approached.
“Morning. Reservation for Peterson.”
“Very good, sir”, was the reply as the man glanced at a schedule, “Yes sir, if you’d step this way.”
He was led to a window booth facing the busy street he had entered from.
“Would you like anything to drink?”
“Coffee, black, please.”
“Yes sir.”
His waitress came with the coffee and he gave her his order. He didn’t need to look at the menu as this had been his favorite spot before the problems had started and he always had the same thing.
The meal was served quickly and as he ate he thought about his new job and how he had been told when he was hired that a promotion and raise could be expected within only a few months. He smiled as he pictured the car that the raise would buy him. This put him into such a good frame of mind that he decided to do something he did rarely. A few minutes later the waitress came to clear his plates.
“I’d like one of your patented ‘Triple-layer Hot Fudge Sundaes’, please.”
“You better be careful or you’ll get a cavity”, she smiled.
“It’s okay, my next stop is the dentist anyway.”
She laughed and went back to the kitchen. The dessert was quickly brought out and he savored every spoonful. He hadn’t felt like indulging himself in a long time and he intended to enjoy it. After the sundae was no more he sat back and sipped a last cup of coffee.
He would have loved to sit there for hours but a glance at his watch told him it was time to get to the dentist’s office. He paid the bill, leaving a generous tip, and headed towards the dentist, which was only a few blocks away. He made it there quickly. In front of the office was a homeless man holding a sign saying ‘Not a bum! Just having a bad time. Please help’. Peterson looked at the sign for a moment and then pulled out his wallet.
“I know how you feel”. he said putting all of his money, save his bus fare, into the man’s cup. The man thanked him, and got up to leave, muttering something about a meal and a shower.
He smiled as he watched the man leave. He then entered the office and walked up to the receptionist’s desk.
“Good afternoon. I have a 1:00 appointment with Dr. Dormus.”
“Mr. Peterson?”, the receptionist asked. Getting an affirmative nod she handed him a clipboard, “It’s been a while since you’ve been in. If you could fill this out.”
He sat down and filled out the form. He set it back on the desk and turned to sit back down.
“Mr. Peterson, you can come back now.”
“Okay”, he said in some surprise. He had expected a long wait. But these days everything seemed to be going his way.
After a brief examination and one-sided small talk he saw a hand placing the gas mask over him and he quickly went under.
Suddenly he was awake and laying down on a small bed.
“Mr. Peterson? Just lay still. You’ll need to stay there for about twenty minutes before you’ll be able to leave”, this from a voice he remembered belonging to the dental assistant. She began to give him a list of instructions to follow, most of which barely registered with his semi-conscious brain.
Time passed slowly for the groggy man but eventually the assistant helped him up and out to the waiting area. He was still a little punchy but he found if he concentrated he could function. The assistant handed him some paperwork and a prescription for some painkillers. He thanked her and slowly but resolutely made his way to the bus stop.
The bus came quickly and made few stops on the way back to his apartment. His head was clearing but very slowly. He got off at the right stop and walked to his building. Seeing he had some mail he stopped and pulled out the box key, concentrating on every step. He frowned as he saw it wasn’t worth the effort, a credit card bill and a sweepstakes entry. A light clicked on in his fogged-up brain and he opened the sweepstakes to see if they had a good deal on a magazine which he would need for work. He had trouble looking at the small print so he decided to look at it later. He ripped open the other and saw a big payment due. He knew he had racked up quite a debt on the card but now that he had a job it would be okay.
He started up the stairs clenching the rail for support. After a few steps he heard his phone, which had a distinctive ring to it. He shuffled quicker up the stairs. Reaching the top he moved towards his door, but in doing so lost his mail. He bent down quickly to get it which made him extremely dizzy. He straightened up but having trouble keeping his balance he stumbled backwards.
The policeman gingerly stepped around the body with a grace borne of years of practice. He hated these situations but in his line of work selectivity wasn’t a perk normally awarded. He turned to the landlady, who was fairly calm about the whole matter and actually more helpful than he expected.
“He was a bit of a troublemaker and probably was doing drugs too”, she said in an authoritative tone.
“You say he had some kind of seizure this morning?”, he asked.
“Yes. And when he came back he was bobbing and weaving. Just like my ex-husband used to do. The lout.”
“It does seem to fit. He had quite a few wine bottles in his room, which was a mess. Books knocked over and everything. Looks like he had been cooped up there for quite a long time. And he had a prescription for some pretty powerful pills but we’ll have to check it out.”
“Kids these days. I just don’t get it.”
“It also looks like he was in money trouble like so many are. No money in his wallet and a big credit card bill clenched in his hand, it looks like he was hoping for the sweepstakes to be his ticket out.”
“Like I told you, he didn’t have a job.”
The officer just shook his head sadly, “When are kids today just going to get it together?”
