Hardly Heaven - A Different Kind of Dying

Sam's Story Part 2

Sam had a vague memory of what it was like, to move through life easily, free from pain. It wasn't difficult when he was a kid, with his whole life stretched out in front of him, to hold on to the illusion that he would live forever. He knew better now and those memories of living forever faded as each day ticked by. Living forever, who the hell would want that anyway? When you got right down to it, Sam felt that he was dead already, all they needed to do was cover his body with dirt.

Just then another high school boy ignited a strand of firecrackers and lobbed it over the chain link fence. The little incendiaries landed a foot behind Sam with an ear piercing rat tat tat. After his heart returned to a normal sinus rhythm, he bellowed; "if I was 20 years younger I'd put those firecrackers where even your proctologist wouldn't find them." But, of course, the boy was long gone.

"Hey Sam, don't let them get you all bent out of shape, they're just a couple of dumb kids."

"Yeah Burt, and we're just a couple of dumb old geysers."

"Well, you could always bring your dumb old geyser self over here and play some checkers," replied Burt.

Burt was almost the only other semi-sane person in this hell hole, thought Sam. Semi because Burt spent a good portion his time in an Alzheimer induced fugue, where on a good day he remembered his name. Sam thought maybe Burt was the lucky one. Blissful ignorance - it had more than a little appeal for Sam. He noisily pulled out the chair across from Burt.

"Shhhhhh...here comes old Plutonium Underpants," hissed Burt. "Hide the checkers."

Kate Howard drifted into the room like a battleship easing into port.

"Come on you old coots, you can't sit around playing games all day. Get inside for your showers, and dinner."

 Sam detested her, but he had to admit; if there was one person in this lousy dump who he could relate to, it was Kate. Old Plutonium Underpants, or PU for short, cruised these corridors in a perpetual snit. As far as Sam could see, being pissed off was Kate's permanent state of mind. Unhappy with herself, her job, hell- her whole life, Kate directed most of that unhappiness on the unwilling, yet captive occupants of Brentwood Nursing Home. Sam hated it, but he also had to respect it, cause oh yeah, he knew just where Kate was coming from.