The Wait
Two Captains, O Captain.
+++++
It was a Saturday evening at the beginning of winter. The absence of snow and it's reflective nature added to the dullness, but it was calming. Dimness doesn't have to be seen as the absence of light, and though the sky seemed to be giving off the impression that it needed a light bulb changed and it's glass covering dusted, I still felt an injection of hope running through my veins
I could see my breath flowing through the air only to disappear into the grayness of its surroundings. Each step helped pump the injection further throughout my body and by the time I reached the bar door I no longer felt the cold. I grabbed the aging metal handle and felt my heart pause for a moment as I swung the door open. I stepped inside and analyzed my surroundings. It was dim in here too, as usual, and there was a quiet hum as its occupants were not far enough along in their drinking yet to forget that anyone but their company existed.
My heart began to beat again as I realized that she was not here yet. I quietly made my way to the far side of the bar where I could see the whole room, and sat down. This was our spot. This is where she would immediately come to when she walked through the door. I glanced sideways at my appearance in the large mirror with the bottle cap frame and didn't allow the criticism, that was pounding at the walls of my confidence, to create a disturbance. I looked tired, but well kept. I had a clean shaven face and styled dark hair that barely touched my ears. My attire was nice, but not overly done. I looked like an average man grasping onto the last few years of his twenties.
“Captain and coke Sam?”, the bartender asked. She was a petite, pale woman named Rita, who looked to be around the age of 50. She had unnaturally red hair, that she kept up out of her face. She had aged gracefully, she was pretty, and had kind hazel eyes that looked quizzically over at me.
“Yes, thank you”, I replied. I was surprised that she remembered my name. I smiled at her to acknowledge my appreciation.
She made the drink and placed it in front of me before giving me another questioning look and turning around to help a group of people who had just entered the room. I sipped on my drink and looked around.
Soon she would be here.
This room seemed to have a lasting energy that had lingered and became stronger each day. The striped green wallpaper seemed to have absorbed our conversations and held onto the words as if each syllable were the glue that kept it from falling to the ground. The pool tables gave a place for our fingerprints to lie with one another and the lights were only working because it held our happiness. I sat there for a while and just appreciated everything that we had done in life together.
She would be walking through that door any minute and I didn't have a clue what I would say. I should have brought my guitar so I could play something on the stage for her. She's the one who made me appreciate the instrument and showed me that it's more than a talent guys work hard at in order to get layed. This thought made me chuckle, back then I would have been that douche in order to get her.
She showed me the beautiful side to so many different things in life that had before seemed ordinary. I would be a completely different person had it not been for her. She found the wanderlust in my soul and has always supported it. She knew how much in my core it was buried before I even knew. I guess that's what happens when you grow up traveling your whole life, you can spot the need in others. I hope when it's all said and done, she will be proud of me, because I thought of her every step of my journey. Through every beautiful scenery and charming little town, I saw her there.
“Sam?” Rita interrupted as she took my empty glasses. I looked up at her, coming out of my daze.
Quickly realizing what she was asking, I said, “No thanks,”
I looked at the clock and continued, “ I think I must have gotten the wrong day. I'm just going to go home. Thank you again Rita.” and I slapped some bills on the counter before putting on my coat and walking out the door. More time had passed than I had realized and that injection of hope that I had felt coming in, was gone. It was replaced with a strain on my heartbeat. I felt like it could stop any second and I didn't really care if it did. She wasn't coming.
The patrons of the bar, who had stepped out for some air before I exited, had consumed a decent amount of alcohol in the time I had been there. They were a group of younger kids, that couldn't be older than 20. It consisted of mainly males but there was one young woman amongst them with her hood up to protect herself from the cold. She was standing next to a blonde haired boy who was laughing at a joke one of his friends had made. As I closed the door behind me and began to walk around the group, the blonde haired kid stepped back and was surprised when he bumped into me.
“I'm sorry dude!,” he exclaimed while holding up his hands; his eyes were wide with alarm.
“Don't worry about it, capt'n,” I replied coolly, “ You have a good night.”
“You too, man.”
Hands in my pockets I continued on my way down the empty street.
“Was that him?”, I thought I heard one of his friends say, in an attempted hushed voice. The alcohol rendered him unable to control his volume with much skill. I kept walking but wondered if I had heard him correctly or if his slurring had led me in a different direction. How would a group of kids know me? It was a thought that left my mind just as soon as it entered. Nothing seemed to matter to me in that moment and I felt sick.
--------
“Yea, that was him.”, I whispered weakly. I couldn't breathe and I felt my eyes starting to water. I turned around and pulled the hood off my head. Here I was, watching him walk away, again. When he was out of sight I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to hold back the tears.
“I need a drink,” I muttered and placed my fingers on the same aging metal handle that his hand had been on just moments before. It felt like I was touching his ghost. These poor kids probably think I'm insane. I opened the door and walked over to the far side of the bar, next to the bottle cap framed mirror. I angled my body away from it, I couldn't look at myself. I flagged down the bartender and gave her a half assed smile.
“Captain and coke, please.”
It was a Saturday evening at the beginning of winter. The absence of snow and it's reflective nature added to the dullness, but it was calming. Dimness doesn't have to be seen as the absence of light, and though the sky seemed to be giving off the impression that it needed a light bulb changed and it's glass covering dusted, I still felt an injection of hope running through my veins
I could see my breath flowing through the air only to disappear into the grayness of its surroundings. Each step helped pump the injection further throughout my body and by the time I reached the bar door I no longer felt the cold. I grabbed the aging metal handle and felt my heart pause for a moment as I swung the door open. I stepped inside and analyzed my surroundings. It was dim in here too, as usual, and there was a quiet hum as its occupants were not far enough along in their drinking yet to forget that anyone but their company existed.
My heart began to beat again as I realized that she was not here yet. I quietly made my way to the far side of the bar where I could see the whole room, and sat down. This was our spot. This is where she would immediately come to when she walked through the door. I glanced sideways at my appearance in the large mirror with the bottle cap frame and didn't allow the criticism, that was pounding at the walls of my confidence, to create a disturbance. I looked tired, but well kept. I had a clean shaven face and styled dark hair that barely touched my ears. My attire was nice, but not overly done. I looked like an average man grasping onto the last few years of his twenties.
“Captain and coke Sam?”, the bartender asked. She was a petite, pale woman named Rita, who looked to be around the age of 50. She had unnaturally red hair, that she kept up out of her face. She had aged gracefully, she was pretty, and had kind hazel eyes that looked quizzically over at me.
“Yes, thank you”, I replied. I was surprised that she remembered my name. I smiled at her to acknowledge my appreciation.
She made the drink and placed it in front of me before giving me another questioning look and turning around to help a group of people who had just entered the room. I sipped on my drink and looked around.
Soon she would be here.
This room seemed to have a lasting energy that had lingered and became stronger each day. The striped green wallpaper seemed to have absorbed our conversations and held onto the words as if each syllable were the glue that kept it from falling to the ground. The pool tables gave a place for our fingerprints to lie with one another and the lights were only working because it held our happiness. I sat there for a while and just appreciated everything that we had done in life together.
She would be walking through that door any minute and I didn't have a clue what I would say. I should have brought my guitar so I could play something on the stage for her. She's the one who made me appreciate the instrument and showed me that it's more than a talent guys work hard at in order to get layed. This thought made me chuckle, back then I would have been that douche in order to get her.
She showed me the beautiful side to so many different things in life that had before seemed ordinary. I would be a completely different person had it not been for her. She found the wanderlust in my soul and has always supported it. She knew how much in my core it was buried before I even knew. I guess that's what happens when you grow up traveling your whole life, you can spot the need in others. I hope when it's all said and done, she will be proud of me, because I thought of her every step of my journey. Through every beautiful scenery and charming little town, I saw her there.
“Sam?” Rita interrupted as she took my empty glasses. I looked up at her, coming out of my daze.
Quickly realizing what she was asking, I said, “No thanks,”
I looked at the clock and continued, “ I think I must have gotten the wrong day. I'm just going to go home. Thank you again Rita.” and I slapped some bills on the counter before putting on my coat and walking out the door. More time had passed than I had realized and that injection of hope that I had felt coming in, was gone. It was replaced with a strain on my heartbeat. I felt like it could stop any second and I didn't really care if it did. She wasn't coming.
The patrons of the bar, who had stepped out for some air before I exited, had consumed a decent amount of alcohol in the time I had been there. They were a group of younger kids, that couldn't be older than 20. It consisted of mainly males but there was one young woman amongst them with her hood up to protect herself from the cold. She was standing next to a blonde haired boy who was laughing at a joke one of his friends had made. As I closed the door behind me and began to walk around the group, the blonde haired kid stepped back and was surprised when he bumped into me.
“I'm sorry dude!,” he exclaimed while holding up his hands; his eyes were wide with alarm.
“Don't worry about it, capt'n,” I replied coolly, “ You have a good night.”
“You too, man.”
Hands in my pockets I continued on my way down the empty street.
“Was that him?”, I thought I heard one of his friends say, in an attempted hushed voice. The alcohol rendered him unable to control his volume with much skill. I kept walking but wondered if I had heard him correctly or if his slurring had led me in a different direction. How would a group of kids know me? It was a thought that left my mind just as soon as it entered. Nothing seemed to matter to me in that moment and I felt sick.
--------
“Yea, that was him.”, I whispered weakly. I couldn't breathe and I felt my eyes starting to water. I turned around and pulled the hood off my head. Here I was, watching him walk away, again. When he was out of sight I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to hold back the tears.
“I need a drink,” I muttered and placed my fingers on the same aging metal handle that his hand had been on just moments before. It felt like I was touching his ghost. These poor kids probably think I'm insane. I opened the door and walked over to the far side of the bar, next to the bottle cap framed mirror. I angled my body away from it, I couldn't look at myself. I flagged down the bartender and gave her a half assed smile.
“Captain and coke, please.”