The sun was starting to peek through Edward's threadbare curtains when he finally went to sleep. It had been a long night. He had been dreaming about his mother again. Distorted memories of her mixed with the jungles of Vietnam caused him to toss and turn all night. Sometime after four, he kicked off the covers and wandered into the kitchen, and brought the bottle of whiskey back to bed with him. He drank and smoked until, finally, his mind was quiet enough to get some rest.
BANG! A car backfired right outside of his apartment. Edward fell out of bed and hit the floor, covering his head with his hands, "Hit the deck!" He screamed out to anyone that might be near. He lay there trembling and sweating, waiting for the next bomb to go off, or the next bullet to whiz by.
As his head started to clear and he realized he was at home, and nowhere near Saigon, his breathing began to slow to a normal rate. He sat up slowly, leaning against the mattress. He had fallen on his bad hip. It was throbbing. He knew he needed some ice and aspirin but he was still shaking so hard he knew his legs wouldn't carry him to the kitchen. He took another deep breath, he reached over to the nightstand for his cigarettes. He pulled the last one from the pack and lit it. He leaned his head back and let the nicotine soothe his ragged nerves.
He groped around until he found the ashtray on the nightstand and stubbed out his cigarette when he noticed the time. It was just after noon. He had slept more than he thought. He had a day of errands to run, and with his hip already aching, it would be a long afternoon. Edward contemplated getting up off the floor or just pulling the blankets off the bed and going back to sleep where he was when the phone started to ring. "Fuck!" He swore. He grabbed the nightstand and the side of the bed for support and slowly lifted himself. As he shifted his weight, his hand slipped off the nightstand, causing it to wobble. The last of this whiskey and the table lamp crashed to the linoleum. "Fuck!" he yelled again, staring at the broken glass and wasted booze. He ran his fingers through his hair and limped to the kitchen. He would clean that mess up later.
By the time he got there, the ringing had stopped, but he knew she would call again. She needed something, and she would not stop until he picked up the line.
Right on cue, his phone rang. He let it ring three times before picking it up.
"Hello?" He said with knowing in his voice.
"Where have you been? I have been calling! " The voice on the other end of the line accused.
"I was here Mother. I was in the shower."
"I need some money."
"I don't have it right now. I am behind on my rent and…."
She cut him off. "Don't do that to your poor old mother, now. My electric has been cut off." She whined.
"What happened to the money I sent two weeks ago?" The money that should have gone to my landlord. He thought bitterly.
"Nathan needed it." She answered.
"Who is Nathan?" He punctuated.
"He's a real nice guy Edward. You would like him. We have been going together for a few weeks, and he came over a couple of nights ago and told me he needed that money. He was all upset and begging, and I love him, and I just wanted to help." He knew she was lying. She always talked fast when she was lying. Edward had a feeling this Nathan guy had stolen it or threatened her for it. This was not the first time they had had this conversation, and he knew it would not be the last.
"Well, Mom, I don't have it." He told her firmly.
"Edward, all the things I had to do to keep you fed and clothed, and this is how to repay me. Can't even bother to send your own mother some money just to get by? I would not be asking if it was not an emergency. Don't you love me? Don't you want me to have electricity? It's starting to get cold here, ya know."
"Mom." He was not going to be guilted by her this time.
She sniffled loudly into the phone. In a small voice, she said his name. "Edward, please."
That was it, and she knew it. He could tune out her threats and her yelling, but when she cried, he always gave in.
"I will do my best to make it to the Western Union this afternoon."
"Oh, Sweetheart, thank you. Can you send a little more than last time? I need smokes too."
"I will send what I can." With that, the line disconnected.
Edward hung up the phone slowly. Why did he let her manipulate him? He turned to prop his elbows up on the kitchen counter and leaned down pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He let out a loud growl. This was it. He was done with her games. He would send the money this time, but he was done. She always acted like she was mother of the year. After Roy left, she changed. Edward was no longer a priority for her. In fact, if it hadn't been for his grandmother, he would have starved or worse.
Edward straightened up slowly and decided she would not ruin his whole day. He had things he needed to do. First on the list was to clean up the whiskey and glass that was still on his bedroom floor. Once he attended to that mess, he would shower and make his grocery list. With any luck, he would get everything done before it got dark. He checked his wristwatch. He might just make it.
After the mess was cleaned up and he was presentable, he left his apartment. He crept down the hall and past the landlord's door. She was a nice enough lady, but he owed her money.
He made it out of the building undetected. Edward had planned his route to cover the most ground in the fewest steps. Some days he enjoyed taking the long way around and getting fresh air, but his hip was already sore from his fall earlier in the day.
His first stop was the Western Union. He pushed open the heavy glass door and walked up to a short red-haired girl working the counter.
"I need to send a wire transfer, please."
"Sure!" She answered a little too perky. "Where are you sending it?"
"Hannibal Missouri." He slid a piece of paper to the girl. It had the address of the local Western Union office. He should have had it memorized as many times as he had done this.
The girl handed him the form to fill out. Under the amount, he was tempted to put $5. He stood there staring at the paper. Bits and pieces of his childhood started to form solid memories. The heat getting shut off, and the kitchen cabinets being empty. Ratty and worn-out clothes, and his toes poking out of the holes in his shoes. He felt his face and neck grow hot with anger.
"Do you need some help with that, sir?" The girl asked.
"No." He hissed. He wrote $100 on the amount line. He pulled out his wallet and counted the fives and tens. He pushed the cash and the form back to the girl.
"Alrighty then." She took the money and started the transfer.
"Wait, can I, uh, add a message to that, please?" He tried to soften his voice. It wasn't her fault he was pissed.
Wordlessly she handed him the pen and form. He added Mother, this is it. Do not ask for another dime to the info line.
The clerk tried not to read what he had written, but the look of shock and disappointment on her face said everything. She handed him his receipt. In a small voice, she told him the money would be available for pick up within three hours.
"Thank you, Debbie." He said, looking first at her name tag and then into her eyes. "I appreciate the help. Have a good day." He said in the kindest voice he could muster. No reason to ruin this girl's day any more than I already have.
Once his weekly groceries were bought, he had one more stop to make, but he had to sit and rest. Between the fall, the extra walk to Western Union, and being held hostage and forced to stand and talk to a chatty coworker in the grocery store freezer section, he could hardly take another step. As much as he wanted to get home, collapsing on the sidewalk was not in the plan. He knew his limitations.
Edward remembered a nice park with comfortable benches a few blocks from the grocery store. He would stop there, rest for a few minutes, then head to Dolly's. His mouth watered as he thought about going home, settling into his recliner, and cracking open his beer. He didn't even mind that it would be room temperature.
He hobbled down the sidewalk, trying not to make eye contact with the other folks out and about on this rare sunny Saturday afternoon. He didn't need to see their pity, and he did not want their help. He was managing. Just when he thought he could not take another step, he was at the park. He found the closest unoccupied bench and fell into it. He sat his grocery bags down at his feet and slowly lifted his leg to rest on the bench. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. A few minutes here in the fresh air would do him good.
He leaned back, closing his eyes and resting his head on the back of the bench. The park was full of children playing games, families picnicking, and grilling. He enjoyed the sounds of the activity. There was something soothing about children's laughter. The breeze was warm for this early fall day, and Edward found himself lulled into sleep.
After two hours, Edward was jolted awake by cold, pelting rain. While he had been asleep, the sky had darkened, and a storm had rolled through. He stood up and grabbed his now soggy grocery bags. As he picked them up, the wet paper gave way, dumping his groceries onto the pavement. Edward closed his eyes in aggravation. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to keep his temper under control.
"Excuse me, sir?" Edward opened his eyes to see a tall man standing in front of him. "Can my wife and I help you to your car? This rain just came out of nowhere!" The man said, chuckling as he leaned down to join his wife and daughter in picking up Edward's groceries.
"Uh-no, I'm fine." Edward stuttered. "I can manage. I don't live far." Edward reached over to take the groceries from the man's wife.
"Nonsense." The woman said, smiling as she took off toward the parking lot.
"I don't have a car," Edward called after her.
"Well, you can't carry all this back to your house. Please let us take you home. I insist," the man said.
With his groceries already in their station wagon and the rain showing no signs of letting up, Edward could not come up with an excuse to turn them down. "Okay, thank you." Edward followed the man to their car.
Once everyone was loaded up, the man met Edward's eyes in the rearview mirror. "I am Roger Jones, this is my wife Mary, and that little lady back there, that's Susan."
"I'm five!" Susan announced proudly. Edward turned to smile at the little girl.
"You are, well…" Edward trailed off. He never knew how to interact with children. He leaned forward slightly, "Just take the next right, please, Roger. I live in the brick apartments on the corner."
A few minutes later, Roger pulled into the apartment parking lot. "Susan, you stay here," Mary said over her shoulder. The little girl started to argue. "Susan," Mary's soft voice had a no-nonsense tone. The little girl crossed her arms and huffed loudly.
Roger opened the hatchback to get Edward's items. Luckily the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Edward, Mary, and Roger, armed with his groceries, headed into the apartment building. Worried they would run into his landlord, Edward said, "I appreciate all the help, really, but I have it from here."
"We've made it this far!" Roger said. He had no intention of letting Eward carry all these groceries into his apartment. He noticed the limp and judging by the grimace on Edward's face, Roger knew he was in pain.
"Follow me," Edward said with a mix of relief and nervousness. They made it to his door without incident. As Edward unlocked his door, he looked at his watch five forty-five. By the time he got the food put away, it would be dark and getting cold. He still needed to get to Dolly's.
"Got somewhere to be, Edward? I am happy to drop the family off and take you anywhere you need to go." Roger asked.
"Oh no, thank you. This was very kind of you both." They sat down the groceries on the kitchen counter. Roger shook Edward's hand, and Mary hugged him.
"I want to give you our phone number, Edward," Mary said, pulling a pen and notepad from her purse. "Call us any time, we live ten minutes from here, and we would be happy to help you with anything anytime."
Edward, looking at his feet, took the paper from her. "I mean it!" Mary called, and she and Roger let themselves out of the apartment.
Once they were gone, Edward hurried to put away the food and household supplies he had bought. It was a few minutes after six when he grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and left his apartment.
The landlord must have been waiting for him. As soon as he could see her door, he heard it open. Maybe she is just checking her mail or taking out the trash. Smile and keep walking, he told himself. Do not let her stop you.
"Good evening Edward." She called politely, leaning in the door frame.
"Yes, it is. I was heading out to enjoy it." He responded, gesturing to the door. Only a few more steps to go, he thought.
"Your rent is very late," she paused, eyeing him, "again."
"Yes, ma'am, I know. I do apologize," he reached for his wallet, "here are the past two weeks."
She took the money and counted the bills. She looked up at him over her glasses. "You are six weeks behind. I know you were in Vietnam." She eyed his bum leg. "I have a nephew over there now, so I hate to put you out, but…."
He interrupted her, "I had to send money to my mother, ma'am. She is very ill. Please, give me a little more time. I will have two weeks' rent next Friday when I get paid. I will get caught up. Please." He hated begging, but he hated being homeless more.
She pushed herself off the door frame as she said, "Let me get you a receipt." She came back a few moments later. She held out the receipt to him. As he moved to take it, she pulled back, "I need two weeks rent next week, Edward, and from now on until you are caught up, ya hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am, you have my word."
Edward lit a cigarette and walked as fast as possible to get to Dolly's. He would need to buy some beer and whiskey on credit. Joe wouldn't mind. He would just take it out of his Friday check when he stopped in to cash it. Joe would understand.
As Edward rounded the block onto Main Street, he could almost taste relief. After the day he had, he deserved to drink to oblivion. Tomorrow he would do better. He would only have a beer or two before bed, but tonight, he would take the bottle and the glass to his recliner. He would settle in, turn on mindless television and drink. He needed to put this day out of his mind.
"That's weird." He whispered to himself as Dolly's came into view. "The sign is off." His palms started to sweat. He felt his stomach flip with nerves. "It's only six-thirty. Joe never closes early on Saturday. He always says it's his best night."
Edward stood looking at his reflection in the glass door. The sign was clear. Sorry Closed Early for a Family Event. Under the handwritten sign was one Edward was familiar with. A blue and white clock with the words will return Monday at eleven A.M.
He put both hands on the glass to steady himself. This could not be happening on all the days. Edward's hands had already begun to shake. At first, he thought it was nerves from running into his landlord and the fact he hadn't eaten anything all day, but he knew. He was in for a long night.