I never really did get what he seen in this town. Sure, it seems like a quiet, safe suburban neighborhood where people dream about raising families but I could never shake the thought that these people were just extremely talented at maintaining a facade of peace, for what reason I'm unsure of. White picket fences and happily ever after is a load of bullshit and quite frankly, boring as hell.
"...damn," I mutter, taking a drag of my cigarette before flicking it away, "I really hate these places." I slammed my car door and walked up the steps of St. Thomas Hospital.
"Can I help you?" A petite red head asked.
"Yeah, I'm looking for room 228."
"I'm sorry, I can only let family members in the ICU. Unless you have proof of relation, I can not help you." She immediately turns away to face her computer, disregarding me.
I'm tired. I just drove non-stop for 12 hours. I don't have the time, the energy or the patience to deal with this. "Excuse me..," I said, trying to get her attention, "if you would've given me a moment to talk, I could've told you that I am famil-"
"Listen, I'm behind on a lot of work. Come back later. I can't help you." She cut me off.
Aggravated, I knocked everything on the service desk to the floor, startling the woman and a few nurses nearby. "I'll find the room my god damn self, thank you for all of your help however next time, " I said, flicking her off, "sit on this and rotate, bitch."
I started walking away, completely dedicated to doing as I said. I could hear the nurses questioning if they should call for security when I ran in to an old friend.
"Are you here to arrest me?" I said, throwing my hands in the air.
"No, not yet at least." Charlie laughed. "How have you been kid? I haven't seen you since you were 3 feet tall."
"Hanging in there, barely. I heard his daughters haven't even showed up."
"Not to my knowledge. I'm not surprised. He wouldn't be, either. Come on, I'll take you to him." He said, taking my hand in his and leading me.
Hospitals are terrifying. They're supposed to be perceived as the place where lives are saved but are more commonly where they are lost. It's the most sickening feeling to walk the halls and imagine all the families who have been here sitting in the waiting rooms, just hoping, praying, that they're loved ones made it through the surgery, through the chemo, through child-birth; I can almost hear the ghostly cries of mourning and dis-belief when the odds go bad. I try to shake the thought as I arrive at room 228. Gripping the door handle, I walk into the picture-perfect scene I've been seeing in my mind since I heard the news. My uncle, my only (semi) living relative, laying limp- breathing only because of tubes and a machine.
"...They say it has to happen today." Charlie says.
I stumble over to the chair next to his bed and reach for his hand. I wish I had been around more.
"I'm going to find the doctor.." I said, walking out. I glanced back at him, my mother's brother. I remember him trying to comfort me when she passed. He had tried to get me to move to Charming. I refused, not wanting to feel anything or be brought into a home like some charity case. I thought to my self, if I had not been so stubborn, maybe when his life came undone and his family deserted him, my company could've inspired him to hold on just a little bit longer.
Now he was just an empty shell of a man, waiting around for someone to pull his life line.
"As William Ross Wallace said, "Every man dies - Not every man really lives." When I look back at as much of his life that I knew, I think he lived his life to its full potential. Some people fear that they will not leave a mark when they leave this earth. This was not his concern. He wanted to leave a mark on the ones that he loved. He wanted them to know him as he was- bold, fearless, yet quiet and kind. He would have wanted us to remember everything good about him, and not the fact that he died, but the fact that he lived. He lived quite a life. Today, we bury a very good friend of mine. We will all miss him dearly. Rest in peace, Wayne Uncer. You protected the streets of Charming for years, and now it's time for this town to let you be at peace."
The petite brunette woman finished her speech with a tear in her eye. She was an older lady, maybe early 50's with the body of a 30 year old. I couldn't remember her face, although I haven't really spent any time in this town- to be fair. I looked at the crowd. There was a very interesting mix of people. Fellow officers, civilians, and oddly enough a pack of men in leather cut-offs had come to pay their respects too.
I placed a white rose on his casket and walked towards my car. I had done my share of mourning the night the doctors pulled the plug on him, and now it was time to move on. I'm used to death; it seems to happen a lot to those I care about. That's life, though.
As I headed through the dispersing crowd, I noticed something that caught my eye. One of the men in the cut-offs had wandered over to a separate set of tombstones and perched himself on top of it. I wondered who he was grieving.
"...you related to Uncer?" A familiar voice asked me, her eyes following mine and landing on the blonde haired man in the cemetery. I looked at the woman who had given the ending speech.
"He's my uncle."
"So you're the girl he always talked about. He was right, you do look just like your mother." She analyzed.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"Nicky, right? I knew your mom back before she ran off and skipped town. Shame what happened to her."
"Nichole," I corrected her, "and I'd really rather not discuss my mother with a stranger, but I'm sure she's smiling in her grave knowing that you think it's a 'Shame' that she's dead. Have a nice day, excuse me." I said pushing past her, heading to my car. Something about her screams the complete opposite of genuine.
I slammed the motel door that I had been staying in and began throwing all my clothes back in a dufflebag. I had to get out of this town. 'I paid my dues to Wayne, right? That's it, I'm free to go' I thought to myself. I sighed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out. I stripped the black dress off I had on and walked into the bathroom. Changing and throwing my long dark hair into a pony tail, I looked at myself in the mirror. It had been a rough week, and my face said it all. My olive skin tone was a shade paler and my cheeks were flushed from crying. I knew sleep was impossible and leaving wouldn't make any problem resolve itself.
I had never been that close to my uncle, but he had always tried to be there for me. It scared me to know I had no one left to run to if I ever needed to.
I could go back home, but there was nothing there for me either; a couple ex-boyfriends I never loved, a few friends who didn't really care for me, and a dead-end job busting tables. Wayne loved this town. I wasn't sure why, but I wanted to find out. I had no where better to be, anyways.
I decided to take a walk and clear my head. I don't know my way around Charming and it was getting dark, but I didn't really care. From what I've heard, it's a fairly safe area. 'I should probably do some research on this place' I thought. I only knew what Wayne would tell me when he called on the holidays, which wasn't much. I lit up a cigarette.
I made my way to where the shops were, and I recognized motorcycles that were sitting outside of a diner, the same ones from the funeral. Two men walked out laughing and play-hitting each other until they noticed me.
"Hey!" One of them yelled. Was he talking to me? "You new in town? I seen you at Uncer's funeral today. Did you know him?" He asked. I recognized his blonde, messy hair. He was the man I had seen in the cemetary.
"He was my uncle."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know." He said. "I'm Jax, and that's Opie." He motioned at the bearded man. He nodded toward me.
"Nichole." I stated, reaching my hand out to introduce myself.
"Well it's a pleasure to meet you darlin'," he said grabbing my hand and kissing it, "How long will you be in town?"
"Um," I stammered, a bit taken back, "I'm not sure yet. I'm considering staying, actually. Maybe, I'm not sure."
He laughed, "Well if there's anything I can do to make you love it here, don't be afraid to holler at me. You can hear these," pointing at the Harley Davidson's, "from a mile away. Just flag us down."
"Thanks, I will."
"Hope to see you around." He walked over to his bike and started it up. I watched from a few feet back.
He revved the engine as I involuntarily yelled "WAIT."
He looked back and smiled, "Yes?"
I have no idea what caused me to do that, it was like word vomit. I stood there nervous for a reason I couldn't grasp. "Know of any places where I can get a drink?" I sighed, happy to have been able to think of something to say.
"Hop on." He smirked.
What am I getting myself into?
