When life is endless, the bigger questions seem that much smaller.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Huh, weird.’
We all down a shot. We all cheer. We’re all like rowdy frat guys that just burst into our friends room with a video camera while he was having anal sex with a virgin.
It’s a good time. I think.
By the end of the night I’m feeling dizzy. Drunker than usual. My head’s buzzing. My eyes are half shot. The world around me is fading in and out. I know that I’m holding conversations. Trying to articulate myself like most drunk people do. Trying to sound smarter than I really am.
I start talking about death with Franklin. The words are strange. Odd. I’ve rarely ever spoken about death.
And so we ramble on.
The conversation comes out in pieces.
‘I had a dog that got hit by a car once.’
‘Nothing lasts forever.’
‘I heard a rumor about people dying on the East coast.’
‘It could be worse.’
‘Fifty years is nothing.’
‘It could be you.’
‘Coughing up blood…’
‘Is she still putting out?’
Fragments. Non-linear, nonsensical. A mish mash of drunken philosophizing.
And then I’m home. I don’t know how. There’s no recollection of driving. I stumble up the stairs. To my bedroom. To our bedroom.
My body hits the bed.
My arm reaches for Evaline.
She’s not there.
‘She left me a note.’
I’m talking to Franklin. We’re at work. I’m tapping my foot on the ground in a 5/4 rhythm and I’m wearing a suit jacket that doesn’t quite fit my depressed frame.
Franklin looks distant.
Non-plussed.
Dead (assuming death were possible).
‘What did it say?’
‘Don’t worry about it. It didn’t say much.’
This is a lie.
I’m biting my lips because I want them to bleed. I’m chewing on my skin because it’s ready to break.
And Evaline is gone.
And Evaline is going to die.
I’m still talking but the words are dreamlike. They keep slipping out of my mouth like water from a faucet, like candy from a vending machine. They keep pouring from me in a cheap and easy fashion.
Franklin stops me.
‘Oh yeah.’
‘Oh yeah what? ‘
‘I forgot that she was going to die.’
‘I know. It seems weird.’
‘So why are you here?’
‘Because I work here.’
‘But shouldn’t you be spending time with her?’
‘…’
I look around. The electric lights hum. Office papers shuffle. You can hear the boredom and repetition in the air.
‘I mean, she’s going to die soon, right?’
‘Within the next 50 years.’
‘That just seems weird to me.’
There’s a pause.
My eyes squint. It looks like I’m thinking. It’s more like I’m dreaming.
Franklin is looking around. Searching. He seems nervous. He looks like he needs to be somewhere. He looks as if he wants to get back to work.
I already miss my routine.
‘So yeah. She left a note. She’s gone. I’m sure she’ll be back soon though. It’s not like her to just leave.’
‘Are you sure she didn’t join one of those southern death cults?’
There’s a pause. Because I don’t know anymore. Because when you live this long there are certain things that inevitably feel concrete.
We all breathe.
We don’t die.
Routines stay in place.
When the things that seemed concrete start to fall away…
‘No she didn’t join one of those.’
‘Where would she go then?’
And the air around us. It tastes stale. It’s been processed and filtered and it feels fake.
It feels bitter.
It feels vile and reprehensible and all I really want is to go outside and breathe in something fresh. Even for a second.
‘Where would she go?’
My forehead goes flush.
And the answer is that I don’t know.
Just like I don’t know what Evaline’s favorite food is.
Just like I don’t know who her best friend is.
Just like I don’t know the reason that I started loving her in the first place.
Some things just get lost in the routine.
Some things just take a back seat to the flow of time.
What does she do during the day? Who are her friends? Does she do anything? Does she have a certain place that she likes to shop? Does she make a certain noise after she kisses me?
I’m blank.
The obvious answers.
They should be spilling from the tip of my tongue.
Evaline.
My wife.
She used to be something I knew. She used to be familiar to me. The verse to my chorus. The thing that made me worth singing.
Did I ever even know the answers to these questions?
It seems so long ago.
Too distant to remember.
I close my eyes and struggle.
My body, it keeps on living, even though my memories, the ones that I thought would be cherished forever, they disappear. Memories replaced by something new. Replaced by football stats and investment earnings.
