Page 27 of Atlas
“So,” Howard’s voice chimes in. “Are you kicked out?” I whip my head around and fix my panicky gaze on Atlas. His green eyes look from Howard to me and I have a tightness in my belly.
“No,”Atlas blinks before sitting on the bench with an exasperated sigh. “I’m not kicked out, as long as I don’t take you. If I take you, I’m disobeying orders and my probation officer will be called.”
“What are you guys talking about?” I cross my arms over my chest. They look so defeated. What has been going on that I wasn’t told about?
There is a brief silence before Howard takes a shaky breath. “It’s Clara’s birthday.” I furrow my brows at the name, but he continues. “My wife, she’s passed away. I’ve given her a sunflower every birthday for seventy-three years.” His mouth trembles and he clears his throat. But is unable to continue.
Atlas looks up at me. His eyes are sad and lost. “They won’t let him go on his own. And, because they are understaffed, no one here can take him today, and since I am here on probation orders, I’m not allowed either.”
I look from Atlas back to the heartbroken man and feel a sense of determination fill me.
“Okay,” Letting out an anxious breath, I pull my phone out of my bag and hit the dreaded contact. There is only one person I can think of with enough pull to help us out and it kills me to even ask.
“Hey mom?”
Shady Springs MemorialParkis nice as far as cemeteries go. There are several ponds you can sit around, and there are trails to walk through. Though honestly, the thought of walking through a cemetery for any reason other than to visit a grave creeps me the hell out.
We park in front of the designated section as Atlas gets out of the driver’s seat to grab Howard’s wheelchair from the back of the Tahoe. My mother’s lackey, David, sits nervously in the backseat with me.
David is an overly anxious third-year resident with short blonde hair and thick-lensed glasses. He is sweating profusely, and I know it has everything to do with whatever my mother warned him about before he met us at the nursing home. Mother denies it every time she is questioned, but she enjoys riding those residents as hard as possible. It’s like a never-ending hell week on steroids. But, even though her reputation is less than positive, and her drop-out rate is higher than any other learning hospital in the state, the doctors that she turns out are the best of the best. And the waiting list to be under her teaching is longer than Santa’s good list.
I pat David’s hand and try not to grimace at the clammy, sweaty skin. “Listen,” my voice comes out calm and reassuring. “I know she’s my mom, but I’m not going to give you a bad review or anything, okay? Stop being so nervous. You just need to be here if anything happens.”
“He’s like a hundred and twelve.” David attempts to whisper.
“Hundred and thirteen last Tuesday,” Howard says as he maneuvers himself into his wheelchair. “And I could still beat your ass, sweaty.” Atlas snorts at the nickname as he motions for me to grab the sunflower wrapped in brown paper and follow them.
I grab the flower and smile politely at David. “Just relax and stay here. If I need you, I’ll yell.” I get out of the car before Davidcan say anything and walk briskly to meet up with Howard and Atlas.
“Should we have left him in the car alone?” Atlas asks as we stop at the top of the hill.
“Windows cracked,” Howard grunts. “He’ll be fine.”
Stifling a chuckle, I hand the flower to Howard, who looks conflicted.
“What is it?” Atlas asks, obviously sensing Howard’s shift as well.
“I’ve never,” Howard grunts and I watch his weathered hand grip the brown wrapping around the flower tighter. “I need to walk to her.”
My gaze snaps to Atlas, who looks nervous, but is not about to tell Howard no. Howard hands me back the flower, and with all the strength he has in his tired body, he begins to push up from his wheelchair. Atlas is at his side, holding the man steady. It’s now that I see how deceiving that wheelchair is. Howard is a large man, even at his age. He’s shorter than Atlas now, between the hump in his back and deterioration due to his age, but it’s not hard to see he was once at Atlas’ height. I wonder what he looked like back when he was our age. His square jaw and blue eyes and that cleft in his chin, I’m sure he was a lady killer. Though, it seems that he only had his heart set on one lady.
Howard and Atlas walk the few steps to the dual plot sight. One side of the dark grey granite is filled in with Clara’s information. “Beloved Wife, Mother, Grandmother, Friend” is written under her name and then her birth and death dates. I glance over to see Howard’s name, “Beloved Husband, Father, Grandfather, Friend” and then his date of birth. Above both their names is a short quote that causes a lump to form in my throat.
My misty eyes travel to Howard as he places his hand on the headstone.
“In every life, it will be you.”
“Happy birthday, baby.”
His soft, raspy words are a knife to my chest, and I glance over to see Atlas clenching his jaw tightly as Howard continues to speak to his wife.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to celebrate it with you this year,” He lets out a shaking laugh. “You remember when you turned forty, and you cried for days because you felt like you were too old and we were never going to have anything to look forward to again? We made that plan to do something new every year, so we had at least one amazing story each year. I remember taking you across the country in that damn truck one year. The piece of junk quit on us in South Dakota in the middle of the night. We fell asleep in the cab of the truck and come sunrise, we saw we were almost to the Badlands. Which is when you had to remind me in your ‘I told you so’ way that everything happens for a reason and we may not like the journey, but the destination is worth it.” He sets the flower on her headstone.
“Baby, I loved every second of our journey, even the bad times…and there were many. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I miss you…” Howard’s voice breaks and I see him crumple slightly but neither me or Atlas move, this moment is too personal, too real and raw and neither of us have the right to disrupt him.
“Clara, it should’ve been me sweetheart. The kids and grand-babies, they adored you. You had a lot more good to offer this world than my crotchety ass. I can’t wait to see you again, and I can’t wait to make you fall in love with me all over again in the next life. You won’t have to do anything, of course, I know as soon as I find you, I’ll be in love with you instantly, just like every time before.” He puts his hand to his lips before pressing them over her name.
“I’ll be there soon, baby.” He whispers, and I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. Glancing at Atlas, I catch him rubbing his face before going over and helping Howard back to his wheelchair before we make our silent descent back to the vehicle.
