Occiditur

Mother Earth

So this song doesn't really fit, but I liked what it said, and this is only a filler chapter. Plus it gets you into the mood.

Oct. 1969

The next morning I remembered why I'd only gotten high once in my life. Peter stumbled into my kitchen his eyes only half open and his thoughts scrambled. He plopped down beside me at the table.

I knew his head was throbbing and his muscles were aching. Not just from the overhang but because of the bruises. It the bright light of the morning I could see them better. They were dark purple, even looking at them hurt.

"Do you want something to eat?" I asked.

"No...." He drawled.

"You see, that's why I don't smoke." I tapped Peter's arm with my newspaper and got up to retrieve some eggs Sam had prepared earlier that morning. She and Ami had left an hour or so ago to visit with Davy's wife.

I had stayed behind to take care of my friend.

Upon returning I placed the plate in front of Peter and went back to my reading.

"Maybe you're the smart one." Peter sighed.

"I know I am." I chuckled.

Peter scoffed a little before picking up the fork and scooping up a spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

Slowly but surely, Peter pulled himself out of his hangover. By midafternoon he was well enough to drive himself home.

I didn't have much to do except for sit around and dwell on the terrors of the night before. This was the one bad habit I wish I could have kicked. I would always dwell on the bad things that happened in my life and I found it hard to let them go. Sometimes my mind would create problems for me to worry about that didn't actually exist.

Usually to cure my deeply saddened mind, I would curl up in my bed and fall asleep. When I would wake up I would feel better, happier. And such was the case on this particular occasion. I fell asleep rather quickly and when Sam woke me up to tell me that dinner was ready I felt better.

The kitchen smelled of delicious cheese and steamed vegies. Sam had already set us plates for herself and I. She feed our nine month old daughter from a jar of baby food. I volunteered to take the job from her.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Sam, I'm basically still a kid anyways. I think I remember how to feed them." I winked as I switched places with her.

"Can I interest you in some mashed carrots tonight madam?" I asked Ami in a French accent.

I twisted the top off and brought a spoonful of the orange goop to Ami's mouth. She smiled and welcomed the food. She didn't keep it all inside of her mouth though.

"Oh let me get that for you madam." I scooped up the carrots and offered it to her. She accepted it.

Sam sat silently watching us.

"Who's a good girl, eating all her vegies?" I said with a mouth full of broccoli.

Ami answered me by spitting her carrots onto my hand. I scowled and used my napkin to wipe them off. Sam laughed at us through her own mouthful of food. She laughed and tried to swallow the food. A bad combination. She began to cough violently to keep from choking.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

She nodded and gave me a thumbs up.

I rubbed her back until the coughing subsided and she partook of the water in front of her.

The whole ordeal got her to laughing once more. I shook my head and giggled right along with her.

I loved my family. Everything I did, I did for them. To keep my wife and daughter safe and well taken care of. Now that I look back on it they were my only reason for living. I had to take care of them.