one shots [phan]

Crossing Over

Chapter 4: Crossing Over

Word Count: 1,153

Song: Crossing Over by Five Finger Death Punch

I sigh softly as I look out of my window, peering at the house across from mine. Just like the days prior to this, Mr.Howell-Lester is sat on his porch, swaying with the summer breeze in his old, wooden rocking chair. With slow, shaky hands, he brings a mug up to his lips and takes a long sip.

I divert my gaze from the window and allow my thoughts to wonder. I've been a neighbor to the Howell-Lesters for almost 40 years. They moved in after they married, eager to spend the rest of their lives together as lovers. I smile as I remember the beautiful romance that enchanted the young men. They would spend the long, summer nights perched on the roof of their house, gazing at the stars. They would sit on there for hours, catching fireflies in jars and giggling softy under the whimsical light of the moon.

I chuckle as remember when they got their first dog. It had been a brisk, fall afternoon when Daniel had decided to bring a particularly energetic, snowy white, German Shepherd puppy named Hewie home. I remember Dan and Phil running down their driveway, shouting franticly at Hewie while he pounced around aimlessly and jumped at small birds. Sure, they didn't know what they were doing, but their love for Hewie was so strong that it didn't matter.

I tear myself from the rather nostalgic thoughts, smiling.

Times really does fly when your having fun.

Although I'd like to say things are as wonderful now as they were back then, things have seemingly gotten more difficult. Aging is an inevitable downward spiral for most people. Even known the Howell-Lesters are going on seventy, I still see them hold hands while they take moonlit walks through the neighborhood and kiss each others aged cheeks while they exchanging love-filled glances. For as long as I could remember, their marriage has been full of unconditional, required love.

But lately, things have changed.

For the past two weeks, Phil has been doing the usual "sit on the rocking chair and drink coffee" routine by himself. Phil, as always, sits on the rocking chair to the left, but Dan hasn't been taking his spot on the rocking chair to the right.

I furrow my brows as I think about the recent absence of Dan's presence. As their neighbor and friend of roughly forty years, I feel obligated to check on them. I sigh as I walk away from the window, and towards my front door.

I really, really hope Dan isn't sick.

Slowly, I bend over, slip my shoes on, and lace them up. As I do so, a few grunts of effort and pain slip through my mouth. Old age doesn't come gracefully to all. Slowly, I open my front door and step down the rickety stairs. The summer breeze blows my grey, thin hair and caresses my face. I take a deep breath and cross the road between my house and the Howell-Lester residence. As I approach the porch that Phil is still sitting on, I notice something different about his usually joyous face.

He looks lifeless.

Perched alone he sits there broken,
An eldered man with storm clouds setting in his eyes.
He counts the sands of time remembering days gone by,
It seemed like yesterday before it washed away.

"Phil..." I say softly, walking up the steps and onto his porch. "Phil, are you ok?" I ask, rushing to his side. Something has to be wrong.... Phil is never like this. I take his frail hand in mine and look him in the eye. He usually lively blue eyes resemble the ocean on a stormy day; Dark and hopeless, mixed with waves of sorrow. You can almost see the storm clouds gathering within him.

Phil looks away from me as tears begin to fall from his cheeks. "Phil, I'm so sorry that you're this distraught, but you have to tell me whats going on so I can help you." I say breathily, sounding desperate. Slowly, he opens his trembling lips to say something.

Looking up at he sky, tears still falling down his face, he begins to whisper barley audible words.

"Please, don't wait for me there, just find your own way. Don't wait for me there, because I'll be there soon enough."

I freeze. I feel my eyes water up as I realize what happened. How could I of been so oblivious? Before I can say anything, I lean over and envelop Phil in a hug. "I'm so sorry, Phil. I'm so, so, sorry." I say as I begin to sob.

Dan is gone.

I pull away from Phil and look him in the eyes. "What happened?" I ask, my voice shaking.

After a few minutes, he finally speaks. "H-heart attack. Passed away during the night..." Phil mumbles, while running a shaky hand through his messy, unkempt hair.

"I'm sorry Phil... I can't believe he is gone." I say, shaking my head. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I ask, sounding slightly disappointed.

"I wanted to, but I couldn't. I couldn't even accept it myself, nonetheless go telling people." He says, wiping dried tears from his face.

I glance down at my watch as I continue to console the broken man that sits before me. Although I'd like to stay and console Phil,
my grandchildren are coming to my house in 10 minutes, and I have to begin making lunch for them.  I have to go. "Phil, look at me," I say, gently grabbing his chin and turning it towards myself. "I care about you a lot, and I need to take care of yourself. I understand how hard it is for you right now, but you have to continue pushing forward, no matter how hard it is. Dan would hate to see you like this, so do it for him." I say gently. Slowly, I lean in to give him one last hug.

"Thank you, Louise." He mumbles whiles returning my hug. After a minute, I pull away with a soft smile.

"You can do this Phil." I say sincerely as I begin to hobble down the steps of his porch and back to my own house.

The widow's life ticks out like clockwork,
A thousand tears he's cried a hundred times before.
But know that he is gone, he's ready to move on,
It all just fell away, it seems like yesterday.

As I reach my front door, I turn around one last time to look at Phil, who is yet to move from his place on the rocking chair. As I go to turn back around, Phil begins to mumble something to himself. Although I'm not the best at reading lips, I manage to make out most of what Phil is saying.

"Don't wait for me, Dan, because I'll be there soon enough."