Payback

Part Three, In Which Yours Truly Finally Shows

I’ve never been to Ohio for a proper visit. I helped Kevin get his stuff to Cincinnati in the mid aughts when he got a new job, but that was the only time. After I moved to Chicago he’d all but beg me to come down. He made friends he wanted to introduce me to. He fell in love and they moved in together and he wanted me to visit their home. His family was close by, and their Halloween celebrations are legendary.

For every reason he invited me, I always had another excuse. Didn’t have a car. Couldn’t afford airfare. Too busy. I felt bad every time I turned him down, but there was Always Later. Every time my wife would bring up the topic of going on vacation I would stress how much I needed to visit him before I went anywhere exotic, but the plans never materialized.

He sacrificed time with his family to be with me when I got married. I couldn’t do less than to be with him when they put him in the ground.

When a major event like this happens there can be any number of days or events before it feels real. It’s like experiencing the world’s most lucid dream. A piece of you is waiting for someone to come in and tell you it’s all a mistake, there was a major misunderstanding and you’re going to wake up tomorrow and none of this was actually happening, you’ve imagined it all. At some point reality will assert itself and you’ll realize it’s all true, but until then, it’s surreal as fuck.

The viewing was early Thursday evening. My Lady Love had flown in to be my support system, and not for the first time I knew I couldn’t have asked for a better life companion. She held my hand as we walked into the room where I knew his body lay, but I wasn’t ready to lay my eyes upon him just yet. I needed it to be a choice, not a surprise. I spoke with his family first, making a bit of small talk amidst the hugs and handshakes and condolences, all while pointedly not glancing around lest I lay eyes on him by accident. I finally took several deep breaths whispered some words of encouragement to myself before turning my face toward the opposite end of the room.

For the first time since I heard the news – the first time in years – I saw my friend’s face. Easily recognizable in profile. I wanted to hug him, but there was a coffin in the way.

I worked my way through the room, stopping from time to time to briefly chat with another family member. Finally I found myself not ten feet away, my Lady Love holding my arm. She noted me working up the strength to walk over and pay the proverbial Final Respects. I didn’t want to go . . . so I started chastising myself using his voice. In my mind I heard him calling me names, playfully mocking my discomfort. “Get over here, ya punk.” When I was finally ready Nikki clocked it, and she asked if I wanted her to go with me. “Not the first time,” I told her. She understood and let go of my arm, and I walked over to look my Best Man in the face. I tried to contain myself, but I couldn’t help but burst into laughter almost immediately.

That fucker still had Bitchy Resting Face. Of all the people in the room, I figure he had the most cause.