Buddy sits quietly in his small, dimly lit apartment. A pair of headlights shine through the window, making shadows dance on the dark walls.“I hate the dark,” Buddy says aloud and raises the bottle of Jack Daniels to his lips.
Then turn on the light, a small voice inside tells him.
“But I hate the light.”
Buddy Phillips is a young writer trying to get on his feet. His current job consists of emptying peoples’ garbage all along Wayne Drive every Monday, Thursday, and Friday, then taking it all to a huge junk pile just outside of town. Oh, how he loves his job.
When Buddy was eleven, he figured that by now he would be married with two kids and be a brave fireman in his small town of Arnold, Missouri. And now, he is rapidly reaching mid-life crisis and has not done any of those things.
Too bad we can’t all live the life of an eleven-year-old, he thinks and sips the last of his drink.
Slouching in his overstuffed black recliner, staring at a lame television, Buddy thinks about two years ago when everything in his life was going right.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“It’s the big day,” Bud’s best friend Paul chanted.
“Yep. The big day,” Buddy repeated, “Time to throw in the bachelor’s towel, time to make anew, time to...”
“Screw one woman for the rest of your life?” Paul chimed in.
“Um, that too.”
They both chuckled. After a few more minutes of primping... hey, a guy has to look decent for his wedding... the two took their places in front of the podium.
Just as the wedding music began to play, Carlotta, the Maid of Honor, ran to the pew.
“She’s not coming!”
A sudden gasp went through the crowd of family and friends.
“What do you mean, ‘She’s not coming’?” Paul asked just above a whisper.
“Just what I said, she’s not coming.”
“What the...?” he mumbled
“She wants to talk to you, Bud.”
Reluctantly, Buddy followed Carlotta into the room where the women got dressed. Sandy, who was sitting in front of a mirror, was crying softly.
“Sweetheart? What’s the matter?” asked Buddy.
“I... I just can’t... I...” she turned to face him, “I just can’t marry you, Buddy.”
He sat beside her, gently rubbing her back, “Why? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no. It’s not you... it’s me.”
“You haven’t done anything, sweetheart.”
“Oh, but I have. I...”
Buddy sat silently, waiting.
“I... slept with another man.”
Buddy rose to his feet. Anger rising from his toes to his temples.
“I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t help myself. I was drunk and...”
With clenched teeth, Bud asked, “Who is this man?”
“I can’t tell you that.” she replied.
“I see, well,” he cleared his throat, “I think this is for the best then. I just wish you could’ve told me sooner.”
Buddy left slowly, wanting to turn back, but not thinking twice of it. Once in the parking lot of the church, he stepped into his small, green Ford and was off. He didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away.
“Well, Phillips. You know there has been a lot of downsizing lately?” Alan Parker, Buddy’s boss asked him.
“Yes sir. It has been very hectic.”
“And you know that it takes a lot of work to keep a newspaper going? Right son?”
“Yes sir, I do.”
“You also know that is very hard for me to lay people off?”
Buddy could only nod his head. He dreads Mr. Parkers next words.
“You’ve been a great asset to this newspaper. We always need active and informative journalists but it seems that we don’t need that many. Phillips,” he paused, “you’re fired.”
Buddy slumped in Mr. Parker’s brown office chair. He sat up quickly and said, “I guess I should get my things.”
He stood and walked awkwardly to his cubical, almost as if drunk. There, he opened his briefcase and threw in papers, pens and pictures of his mother, father and sister, Claire who had recently passed away. He sat in his chair and put a disk into the computer. He began copying all of his pieces onto the crisp yellow disk. When finished, he removed the disk and stuck it in his pocket. He then retrieved his plain coffee mug and snapped his briefcase shut. He stepped toward the elevator.
While waiting for the elevator, Buddy glanced one last time at his office. He would miss it.
With a ding, the elevator arrived. Buddy pushed the ‘Parking Level’ button and that was the last he saw of his job.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Near tears, but forcing himself not to, Buddy stands and walks to the fridge. Opening it slightly, thinking twice, and finally opening it, he spots a can of Budweiser and grabs it. He also sees a half-eaten ham sandwich and grabs it too.
He travels to his small coffee table beside the stove where he sits and thinks some more.
Buddy is a smart man, always has been and probably always will be, however, his main problem is laziness. He doesn’t want to be lazy. He wants to be happy. That’s all, just happy. Happiness is hard to come by when dealing with Buddy Phillips. He had been close to it many times, but something always went wrong.
But, what is happiness? Buddy would contemplate this for hours. Happiness, in essence, is being content with your life. Buddy Phillips is not content. And he does not know what would make him happy. He has a few guesses but there is one thing that he just can’t grasp.
Chapter 2
Scenes from Buddy’s childhood dart through his mind.“Buddy, can you help me with my math?”
“Hey, that’s mine!!”
“You... you... you stupid head!”
“I’ll be the cop, you be the robber.”
“Ooh, Claire’s got a boyfriend.”
“Happy birthday, Buddy, happy birthday...”
“Are you gonna eat that?”
“Of course bro. The female species has always been smarter...”
Suddenly, his dream changes to the day of Claire’s funeral.
“She will always be in our hearts.”’
“I loved Claire, like a sister.”
“I don’t think I can live...”
“She was the best friend I ever...”
“No, CLAIRE!!”
“As I walk through the valley of the shadow...”
“My only sister, my only friend.”
Buddy is startled awake in the middle of the night. He looks around the room slowly seeing his dark room after his eyes adjust to the dark. He spots a couple beer cans on the floor and rubs his forehead with force.
“What the hell?” he mumbles and falls back asleep.
Chapter 3
Buddy drives to the garbage truck terminal the next day. After switching cars, he heads on his morning route.“Why must I pick up trash so early in the morning? Why not ten or eleven o’clock?” he manages to mutter to himself.
After retrieving all the trash on his route and taking it all to the local junk pile, Buddy drives back to the terminal and parks the truck.
Stepping out of the truck, he spots an attractive woman sitting on a bench. He has never seen her before and is curious. After a few minutes of pondering, he finds the courage to walk up to her and chat.
“Hello, I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before.”
“You’re right. I’m replacing Charles Denberg while he’s on vacation.”
“Oh, yeah. Good ole’ Charlie. He’s one character.” Buddy laughs to himself, “By the way, my name is Buddy Phillips.”
They shake hands, “I’m Alexandria Hammel, call me Ale. Nice to meet you.”
He smiles at her, a sweet smile. Ale is a very attractive lady, probably in her mid-30's. She has light blonde hair waving down her back. Her skin is lightly freckled and a perfect shade of peach. Buddy isn’t able to see her eyes because she is wearing a pair of thin-rimmed shades. Her dress is light, a tank top and jean shorts. And when Ale smiles, he feels a warmness flow through him, like when you’re at the beach on a cloudy day and the sun suddenly comes out.
He realizes that he is staring at her and says, “Nice to meet you too, Ale.”
He gazes at her one more time before turning to leave.
“Buddy?”
“Yes?” he asks turning around abruptly, thinking he has done something wrong.
“Would you,” she hesitates, “like to go out sometime?”
He responds all too eagerly, “Yes, oh yes. I would love that,” and smiles.
4 months later...
“Hello?” Buddy speaks into his cream colored phone.“Hi, it’s me. How’s it going?”
“Oh, Ale. It’s great to hear from you. I’ve been wonderful. My life is totally changing and I owe it all to you!”
“I’m happy for you. Hey, you owe me, right? Could you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” he responds merrily.
“Could you drop by here a little later tonight?”
“Sure, is there any particular reason?”
Ale pauses, trying to look for a good answer, “Company,” she replies simply.
“Okay. See ya soon.”
“See ya.”
Buddy hangs up the phone quietly.
“She wants company? Here I am.” he says raising his arms triumphantly.
He preps, brushing his teeth three times and gargling twice. He applies some Brut cologne and deodorant and gets a clean shirt from the dryer. After straitening his hair, as well as his collar, he checks for his keys and steps out the door. Then turns and gets a few tic-tacs from his un-sturdy end table.
On his way to Ale’s, Buddy tries to think of how long he and Ale have been dating. Their first date had been the Saturday after the two had talked. It didn’t take them long to decide to see only each other, well, once Buddy quit drinking that is. Alcohol is one of those things that Ale just cannot tolerate. She had made him promise not to drink anymore and to go to a couple AA meetings to rid him of his filthy habit. “Promise you’ll never drink again?”
“I’ve got to drink water to live, don’t I?”
“I know that, silly, but I’m being serious.”
“Ok, ok. Cross my heart hope to die, I’ll never drink alcohol again!”
He had taken his right index finger and crossed it gingerly across his chest to prove that he meant what he said. He had no intentions at all to drink anymore, Ale meant too much to him.
Another great thing about being with Ale was that she has a friend that works in publishing, which he found out on their fourth or fifth date. When she heard that his dream is to be a writer, she eagerly introduced the idea that she give some of his works to her friend. He loved the idea and gladly accepted the offer.
A few days after Ale gave her friend, Jessie McDow, some of Buddy’s pieces, Jessie called and told Ale that Buddy has some decent work and would like to see some more. He has been working with Jessie at the publishing company ever since. Jessie has told Buddy that he just might be able to call himself a published writer soon.
Reaching his destination, an old five story apartment building on 135th Ave, Buddy parks his old Honda and hops out. He walks to the front door and pushes the button labeled 302.
“Ale, tis I, my sweet.”
“Come on up, the door is open.”
He hears a buzz and then proceeds through the front doors to the elevator.
After reaching the third floor, he pops out of the elevator and skips to Ale’s apartment, finding the door slightly ajar.
“Hullo? Anybody home?” Buddy asks.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He hears Ale’s voice from behind the bathroom door.
Bud seats himself in a comfy blue love seat by a window a picks up a glamour magazine from the end table beside him.
Ale has a small apartment but it has a certain coziness to it. She has a TV in one corner of the living area and in the opposite corner sits an end table with an elegant antique lamp on it. To the left of the table, the room fades into the kitchen and to the right is the love seat in which Buddy now sits. Directly in front of the TV is a matching recliner. He thinks that Ale could easily be an interior decorator and intends to bring it up.
He hears a creak of a door opening and turns toward it. To his surprise, Ale stands there in a red satin negligee and red high heels.
“Lovely,” Buddy whispers.
She struts toward him, hands on hips, hair falling down her back in even waves.
“Is this seat taken?” she asks politely.
“Not at all,” he replies.
She pushes him against the arm of the love seat and snickers. “Good.”
Chapter 4
Buddy and Ale are sitting together at the dinning table while drinking coffee. Ale picks up a newspaper and begins flipping through the wanted ads.Buddy asks, “Will you hand me the funnies?”
”Sure dear.”
He starts with Garfield. He has always liked Garfield. That fat orange cat cracks him up every time he pushes Odie off the counter. It never gets old.
Buddy laughs loudly after finishing the comic and moves on to Peanuts.
“What about a secretary?”
“Huh?”
“What about me being a secretary for some corporate guy,” Ale repeats.
Buddy lowers his head.
“You ok, Bud?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” What he doesn’t tell her is that his ex-fiancee was a secretary and the man she cheated with on him was her “corporate guy” boss. The two got married five weeks after she broke up with Buddy.
“Uh, I don’t think you’d like being a secretary.”
“Ah, you’re right. I’ll keep looking.”
Buddy sits silently while Ale looks in the newspaper and finally decides to give her a suggestion.
“Why not try interior decorating? This place looks great and you did wonders with my place. You’ve already got the talent.”
“Well,” she smiles shyly, “I do enjoy it.”
“Look,” Buddy points at the paper, “Here’s someone that needs a decorator. Go ahead, call.”
Somewhat reluctantly she replies, “Oh, ok.”
Ale picks up the phone and dials. Buddy steps into her bedroom to get dressed. He pulls off his jeans and then realizes his underwear is no where in sight.
He gets down on all fours and starts poking around the room. A white sock. A t-shirt. A tennis ball. A tennis ball? Whatever. Ah, Ale’s negligee. Buddy begins to daydream.
Ale walks in the doorway and giggles quietly. She struts up behind him and he still doesn’t notice her so she pinches his butt.
“Hey!”
She chuckles, “What are you doing, silly?”
“I can’t find my undies.”
She reaches behind the door to reveal a pair of green boxers.
Buddy blushes, “I knew that.”
He gets back to his feet and dresses.
“I called.”
“What’d they say?” he asks interested.
“He said they wanted to see my work. The man and his wife are coming over tomorrow to look at your house, if.....”
“My house? Why mine? Why not yours?”
“Because I didn’t do that much here and we have pictures of what yours used to look like. They can compare.” Ale smiles irresistibly.
“Geez. Well, ok. You can use my house.”
“Oh, thanks Buddy!” She gives him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. Then she turns and leaves the room.
“No problem.”
Chapter 5
Buddy knocks on the door and opens it slightly.“Hi Jes.”
She waves a hand for him to come in.
Buddy enters the small but comfortable office of which ‘Jessie McDow: Assistant Publisher’ is written in glittery gold letters on the office door.
Jessie is seated in a leather office chair with a slender white phone to her ear.
“Yes, of course Bob... Oh, I know... yes... yes... ok... Sure, anytime... Really... No problem... Alright... Ok, buh-bye”, she replaces the phone on it’s receiver.
“Sorry about that”, she rises, “Come in, sit down.”
“Thanks.”
“Coffee?” she asks.
“No.”
“Your loss. Jenny makes the best coffee.”
“Oh, alright”, he gives in.
She pushes a button near her telephone and talks into a small speaker.
“Jenny, could you get us two coffees? You know how Mr. Phillips likes it.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Thank you Jenny.” She turns to Buddy, “So, how’s the book coming?”
“Great. I’m making progress.”
“Good good. Progress is good.”
A queer smile enters Bud’s face, “Yes, it is.”
Jessie giggles, “ I must seem like a wreck.”
“Well...”
“I know. Don’t even say it.”
“But I wasn’t...” Buddy can’t hide the truth from his face.
“I’m sure. Moving along. You’re making progress? Does this mean I’ll be able to see the finished product within two weeks?”
There’s a pause, “Hopefully.”
“Just ‘hopefully’? Why not definitely or no doubt? ‘Hopefully’?”
“Uh, yeah. Hopefully.”
“Fine, fine. Why I’m helping you, I don’t know.”
“Because I’ve got talent?”
Jessie cackles, “That must be it!”
They laugh together and continue to talk. The two spent another hour just talking about life in general.
Jessie has become a good friend since they were introduced by Ale. Now, every time they get together to talk about Buddy’s book, the end up chatting and becoming even better friends.
He rises to leave and they say their goodbyes. Buddy only took two sips of his coffee. He isn’t much of a fan.
Once he arrived in the parking lot, he sat in his car for a few minutes thinking.
Many thoughts passed in and out of his mind. The Cubs batting average, when the next World War will be, when is the sun going to scorch the Earth, if Newton had not discovered gravity what would have happened, why television has so many stupid commercials, whether or not there are aliens ‘out there’. All these things running through his brain.
He jerked his head back as if someone had popped him a good one in the nose.
He’s not sure where he’s going to go because he can’t go to his place because Ale is there showing the Smiths his house. So he decides to go to Ale’s apartment.
He drives down the highway listening to Areosmith and the passing cars. “Dude looks like a lady, dun dun, dude looks like a lady, dun dun, dude looks like a lady, “he sings while nodding his head and tapping his fingers on the grey steering wheel.
He passes a run-down bar with ‘Carl’s’ written in large red letters above the entrance. He has the sudden urge to eat some peanuts. Bar peanuts.
Turning left off the highway, he pulls into the parking lot. It is full of broken glass and paper.
“This doesn’t look like that great a place, “Buddy says aloud.
He parks and strolls toward the front entrance of the old wooden building. Once inside, he plops down at the bar and cracks a peanut or two. Buddy glances around, seeing the ripped cushions in the booths and the toppled over chairs. At the end of the bar is an attractive red-head who seems to be eying him.
After turning back to the bartender there is a tap on his shoulder.
A sweet voice calls behind him, “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before.”
“If you have it was my evil twin," he turns and smiles at a slender woman with dark red lips and blazing red hair.
She laughs slightly, “I don’t believe I’ve seen him either.”
“Hope not. He’s one dangerous fellow.”
“Yeah?” a smirk enters her face, “I like danger.”
“Well then, you’d better be careful.”
“By the way, I’m Carla,” she offers a delicate hand.
“Buddy.”
They talk for a little while about nothing in particular. Then she pops the question.
“So, do you want to come by my place? See the sights?”
“No thanks.”
“Oh, why not?” she puts on an innocent puppy-dog face.
“Because I’m in love.” Shock surges through Buddy’s body.
I’m in love? I’m in love!? I’M IN LOVE! Omigod. I’m in love. I love Ale. Wait till she hears this. Wow. I love her, I really do.
“Oh," is all Carla can say. There is a pause. “Why don’t you marry her?”
“I... I, uh... I dunno.” Then it hits him. He really should marry Ale. He loves her, loves her so much that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her.
“I’ve got to go. Thank you.”
Carla is confused, “For what?”
“Everything. Goodbye.”
Buddy gets into his car and starts the engine. He drives down the street to a jewelry shop.
After talking with the jeweler, he buys a shining diamond engagement ring and drives to Ale’s apartment.
He’s got it all played out in his mind. He’s going to cook dinner for Ale and when she comes in the door, the lights will be dimmed and soft music will be playing. They’ll have dinner and afterwards, while they’re snuggled up on the love seat, Buddy will impulsively get down on his knee with her hand in his and purpose.
It’s perfect, he thinks.
Chapter 6
Finally, Buddy arrives at the crumbling apartments. He hurriedly parks and runs up to the door. As he is fumbling with the key he notices some tulips at the corner of the building. He grabs a bundle and races up the stairs and into Ale’s room.After locking the door, getting a vase for the flowers, and putting the ring in his front left pocket, Buddy states aloud, “Ok, ok. What first?”
He glances around the room, thinking.
“Ah, yes. The meal, must prepare the meal. And the only thing it could be, lasagna!”
He dives into the cupboards, retrieving all the materials to make his famous lasagna (which is also Ale’s favorite food).
After he gets the lasagna in the oven, he makes a caesar salad and sticks it back in the fridge to cool.
Good thing Ale went shopping yesterday, he thinks.
Buddy glides slowly to the stereo system. He searches through the CD’s, trying desperately to find the right one. Finally, he pops in Maxwell.
“I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Maxwell, and your seductive music,” he snickers as he speaks to the CD cover, “Imagine the possibilities.”
Suddenly, there is a beep that brings Buddy back from his fantasy.
He hurries over to get the food and begins setting the table. He puts his “hand-picked” flowers in the middle with a white candle on each side of it. Then he sets two places with a plate, light blue napkin, glass, and silverware.
After all the preparation was done, he rechecks himself four times. Each time, making sure he did not miss something because this night has to be perfect.
As if Ale had read his mind, she came through the front door. She is dressed in her dark blue business suit and even in her work clothes she looks absolutely stunning.
Buddy smiles and pull out a chair, motioning her to sit.
“What is all this?” Ale asks in delightful awe.
He puts his hands to her lips to shush her and proceeds to dish up her favorite food.
“Tell me when to stop, dear,” he mentions.
“Never stop”, she giggles.
Once they were both seated, Buddy asks, “How was your day?” almost as if they ate dinner like this every night.
Ale looks at him slyly, “It was great... and yours?”
“Wonderful. The meeting with Jessie was great. We’re defiantly making progress. And, I came to a magnificent conclusion today.”
“Oh, and what was that?”
“You’ll find out in time,” he smiles.
They continue to talk and eat for almost an hour. Buddy offers her another helping of lasagna and she refuses.
“A little bubbly then?” he asks.
“Buddy...”
“I was kidding, I bought some apple cider
She grins lightly, “In that case, it sounds wonderful.”
Buddy retrieves the cider that he picked up on the way over to Ale’s and pops the cork. He pours two glasses and heads to the TV area with Ale.
They snuggle up on the fluffy love seat just as he had imagined. They talked about everything, from the weather, to religion, from television, to politics. Then, just as the two were at loss for words, Buddy impulsively kneels on one knee, takes Ale’s hand in his and says, “Alexandria Dee Hammel, will you marry me?”
Ale looks cool and calm, Buddy suddenly thinks she might assume that he is joking. She looks at Buddy with her head tilted slightly and says, “I thought you’d never ask,” then grins.
Chapter 7
Buddy and Ale work hard for the next 3 months, preparing for the wedding. All the while, Buddy’s writing career is coming along. As a matter of fact, he is about to have his first book published, entitled, A Long Ride Home. He cannot wait. All he has to do is sign a few more papers and then he’ll be set. And, if his book sells, then he and Ale will be able to move to a nice house on the hill.The night before the wedding, Buddy goes out with his newfound friends to have a little bachelor party. It is a total riot and Buddy has the time of his life. As all the partying is going on, Bud’s pal Greg, absently offers him some beer and Buddy accepts just as absently, lost in the joyous cheers of the party.
Finally, it’s the big day. Buddy is all decked out in his tux, standing at the head of the church. He is more than ready for the love of his life to walk down the long decorated isle and be his until “death do they part”.
The music starts and the flower girl and maids of honor come down the lane. Then, the music changes and Here Comes the Bride is being played on the organ.
A shot of alarm flows through Buddy’s whole body and there is a stabbing pain in his chest. “Where is she? Where is she?” is all he can think.
His heart skips a beat and then he spots Ale at the archway on the other side of the church. His heart settles and he smiles whole-heartedly at Ale. She is in a beautiful wedding gown that has lace on the top half and poofs out underneath. Behind her is the tail of the dress and it drags neatly along the carpet.
Once she reaches the altar, Buddy takes her hand and whispers slightly, “I thought you weren’t going to come.”
“Don’t be silly.”
The wedding ceremony proceeds and Ale is asked the question, “Do you take William J. Phillips to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
She glances at Buddy sideways, “I do.”
The priest turns to Buddy, “And do you, take Alexandria Dee Hammel to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
Buddy feels something deep within his chest. It’s pain, but it is a good pain, a loving pain. Or is it?
Suddenly, Buddy falls to the ground in a heap, clutching at his chest on the way down. The crowd is alarmed and many jump out of their seats. Buddy falls to his silent death in slow motion; his life passing before his darkened eyes. This is supposed to be the happiest day of his life. His last fleeting thought: Why must something always go wrong?
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lilfreeek@hotmail.com