Page 17 of Forever Flustered

Elijah hung his head knowingly, immediately rubbing his face with his free hand and trying to keep from losing his cool. This was a lot sometimes, being responsible for everything and everyone around you – or within your circle.

“What happened?” he asked patiently, a tick starting just under his right eye, almost like a drumroll from the universe preparing him for whatever bombshell was coming next.

“Well,” the woman began, pausing. “How shall I put this?”

“Candidly?” he offered bluntly. “I’m at work, and I know it’s almost three in the morning there, so please – don’t hold back.”

“Perfect,” she replied curtly. “Your father is disrupting the peace of this facility, and it needs to be addressed.”

“Agreed.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she started once again, and that seemed to be all the encouragement she needed as she began unloading on him, verbally and in great detail, what had happened. “Because of some of the antics and comments your father has made recently – shall I say ‘threats’?”

“Threats?” he repeated dully because that feeling of dread and frustration was growing and growing. Is this what an ulcer feels like? I think I can feel my blood pressure rising, and maybe I’ll just stroke out at the desk and never have to worry about any of this crap ever again… wouldn’t that suck? No life, no hope, nothing to live for except paying for miserable people who hated everyone and everything around them – and still do…

“Your father…” she railed, obviously getting increasingly irate as she spoke to him. “To put it candidly – he is a holy terror. You cannot go around threatening the attendants and staff with their jobs or carting himself around in other people’s wheelchairs - stark naked, I might add - while shouting obscenities and…”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Elijah muttered in despair and then rushed to continue before she could get another word in. “Please don’t kick him out. I need him there with my mom – please,” he stressed, nearly begging. If he got them kicked out of another nursing home, he wasn’t sure what to do about them. They weren’t the kindest of people, and having them at arm's length worked for him – and had for several years. He didn’t want to be faced with dealing with his parents once again - even though the arguments and fights would be much, much different now that he was grown.

“I’m not,” she admitted staunchly, drawing in a breath. “I believe he needs a mental evaluation to make sure he’s not a danger to the other residents or staff – and possibly medication to calm his theatrics down. I don’t give up on people even when they try to push people away.”

“Bless you for that…” he whispered gratefully. “What do you need from me?”

“Your approval, since you’ve got the power of attorney over their care – and sometimes it’s better to know what is going on so you can deal with it in your own way. We know that you are stationed overseas, and I understand how difficult it must be to be so far from your loved ones…”

Elijah remained quiet.

It was probably best that he did so, so there weren’t more questions raised. If he admitted it was a blessing to have thousands of miles between them, well – that tended to change conversations, and he needed the retirement center to picture him as the loving and dutiful son who was simply worried about his parents. He was – to an extent – but he also didn’t need to be forced to come home, stuck caring for them. They would never live under one roof again – ever… and that was telling. Their family was a broken, sad, pathetic mess of everything dysfunctional you could think of – and it was still a miracle to him that Bode was breaking the cycle.

“I’m grateful for your kindness and understanding – please proceed.”

“Of course, Mr. Hall. I’ll forward you the doctor’s findings, so you are in the loop.”

“Much appreciated again,” he replied and hung up the phone when the woman ended the call.

Cursing softly under his breath, he covered his face and slumped down in the chair, groaning aloud at the ceiling in sheer frustration and irritation. Between Bode, work, his parents, everything… he was precariously close to losing his cool – which would not go over well for his career. No, he needed this bit of stability, the money, the security, and the distance from those memories that haunted him.

He needed… an outlet.

Elijah needed someplace safe to let off steam, a place to talk, something to distract him… something private, he thought. He didn’t need to go to the gym and attack the punching bag, plus he really couldn’t unload this on Bode because he knew his brother’s mind. They had both been abused and neglected, but Bode was also… colder. Familial guilt kept Elijah trapped in a private self-torture of his own making, whereas Bode would shrug and say, ‘They can see how it feels and figure it out - just like we did’. He couldn’t blame his brother for those thoughts and opinions. They were the same ones that whispered loudly within his own mind at times.

And it hit him.

Withdrawing Maureen’s card from his desk, he stared at it for a moment and then unlocked his computer. Clicking on his email, he began typing… reaching out to the one person who’d offered an olive branch of friendship. Maybe she could see it in his eyes, or perhaps it was a type of request for herself, but either way? He was writing her, opening that door to a conversation via email.

Hello Maureen,

Not sure if you remember me – but I’m the guy at the Hall wedding at Flyboys in Yonder, and you gave me your business card. I hope that rings a bell, because if not, I’m gonna sound like a complete fool.

You asked me about my call sign, I think?

When I graduated from the Air Force Academy and went to flight school, I had such lofty dreams and ambitions. I was going to be THE guy in charge someday; people would come to me, want to be me, and I was stupid enough to share those opinions during a conversation with one of my instructors when he asked where I saw myself in five or ten years in the military… boy, was that a mistake! On the next training circuit, I nearly collided with another plane. I was reprimanded, evaluated for duty, and when cleared – I returned to class with thunderous applause.

This was not a good thing – just fyi…

My instructor stopped what he was doing and said loudly, “Hey, look, flyboys – Archangel’s back and he’s going to show us all how things are done in the air… so whatever he does? Don’t do it – or you’ll be grounded too. Archangel, sit your butt down at the front of the class and pay attention like your career depends on it – because it does.”

That was such a bad day. I’ve had a string of them - including today – and I just wanted to say ‘hello’ and take you up on that offer of friendship, if it’s still there.