Story Room

Lincoln Street

Crumpled in a ball on the floor laid a man, yielding an old book. The man was faced with unimaginable decisions, shock, and grief. His friend left.

Earlier...

In a drunken stooper, the man approached the door hearing words drenched with anger and fear and objects being thrown about the room. He worriedly opened it to see his friend standing in the center of the round rug splayed beneath an armchair and coffee table.

"I must go," his friend woefully stated with tears in his eyes. "I am very sorry." He had no bags packed, only a book in hand.

"Alden, wait," the man stated. His friend was rash and cryptic. He had seen Alden, who had been joyfully writing and reading in that room earlier. "What happened? What can I do?"

Alden's eyes were dull and glistened in light flickering from the fireplace nearby. He shakily exhaled, "Jude.." He opened his mouth, yet nothing else came out, just a trembling breath.

"Alden, we can fix whatever this is, just tell me," Jude pleaded as Alden gently placed the green bound book in his hands. "We can fix it.. Ju-just tell me."

Alden rested his open hand on Jude's chest and sadly looked into his eyes. He softly said, "Don't follow me, okay?"

Jude was gutted by his words, "But I-" His words were cut short by Alden placing his index finger to his lips.

"Don't make this worse," he muttered and left a soft kiss on his cheek before walking past him.

Jude stared at the book in his hands, wondering what its importance was or if it was ever important. He cradled it in his arms like a newborn. He didn't know what to do and just laid there. Suddenly, he climbed to his feet, still sluggish from his whiskey. He made the decision to follow Alden, despite his request.

Jude burst the door and stumbled down the stairs. He hoped that he didn't let too much time pass before making this decision. He violently opened the front door and no Alden. He looked up the sidewalk and only saw random passersby. A lump grew in his throat when he glanced down the sidewalk and didn't see him.

Where would he go? Why would he go?

Jude heaved a few breaths before stepping out onto the sidewalk. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, before forcing another breath in attempt to not panic.

"Urm..." he let out another breath as his eyes darted around the vicinity. He rested his hands on his hips and gently squeezed in frustration.

An elderly woman ambled past him with her cane but stopped to look at him. Everyone else had walked on by, but she noticed the lost look ok his face. "Boy, are you okay?"

He made eye contact with her, taking a moment to process her question. He felt tears forming in his eyes, "No, not really." Jude inhaled shakily and ruffled the hair on the back of his head, "I've, erm, I've lost my friend."

"Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry," she stated. "What did they look like?"

Jude explained, "Slightly shorter than myself, blue eyes, light hair. Wearing sensible clothes."

The lady squinted her eyes, "You love that man?"

Jude never thought about it that way. Maybe that's why Alden left? "I care for him a lot, yes."

The lady smiled gently, "I saw a fellow that looked like that heading down Lincoln."

Jude thanked her and bolted down the street repeating Lincoln in his mind until he realized the train station is in that area. He ran as fast as he could, his panic had sobered his mind. "Lincoln, Lincoln," he kept repeating in a whisper. He nearly ran into the Lincoln street sign and haulted. Lincoln, Lincoln, Lincoln...

There. Right there was Alden sitting on a bench outside the station. Across the street, but directly in front of him. Jude stood there frozen as if his shoes had rooted into the sidewalk. He watched Alden thumbing through a newspaper. He waited for a clearing before he bolted across the street and he mindlessly sat on the other end of the bench. "I uh..." he gained a saddened look from Alden, before saying, "hope no one else was sitting here."

"I told you not to follow me," he choked on his words as he folded his newspaper, setting it next to him on the bench. "You don't follow directions."

"Have I ever?"

"Well no," Alden chuckled wiping a tear from his cheek.

Jude fumbled for the correct words, he went to place his hand on Alden's thigh when someone else sat on the bench. Alden wasn't there. Jude retracted his hand after gaining an odd look from the stranger.

"Creep," the woman stated out of disgust. "You high or something,"

Jude's hand wavered around before he placed it on the newspaper, he scoffed, "Reached too far for my paper."

The woman continued to sit there as Jude shakily got up from the bench. Nausea set in as he tried to inconspicuously check all sides of the bench. His heart sank into his stomach as he turned to walk down the sidewalk. "Where did he go? He was there."

He drug his feet down the sidewalk as memories flooded back to him. Alden had left, and he found him at Lincoln on the bench. Then he... Jude approached a trash can and vomited.

"You really need to stop drinking," a female voice said from nearby.

"Shut up," Jude demanded wiping his face with his sleeve. He reached the newspaper from his back pocket and pointed it the person. "You can kiss a donkey."

"Still seeing him, I suppose?"

He swatted at the woman with the paper, "I'm warning you."

"You know he's gone, Jude," they said sadly. "It has been a year."

He swatted at her again with the paper and hit her arm before stumbling to the ground in front of her, "He's not."

The woman knelt down and gently rubbed his shoulder, "You need to grieve instead of drink."

"Una, I told you to shut up!" he shouted furiously. He stood up and was eye to eye with her. "You used to be my friend."

"Yeah, tell me about it," she stepped back onto the lower step of a stoop. "Call me when you find Jude on your search for the deceased."