Goodbye - Nostalgia Competition

It was far worse than I’d expected. When I’d pictured the scene in my head I’d imagined a peaceful almost serene expression on his face. The sort of expression that undertakers try to give the recently departed in order to make it easier for those left behind. You know the look I’m talking about, the having a restful nap in the entrance hall to Heaven look. Getting a few well-earned moments of rest before the angels show up with your harp and halo, ready to escort you to a nice fluffy cloud. You see I already thought of him as someone who had gone into the Big Sleep and in a sense I suppose he had.

He was lying motionless on the hospital bed. There were so many tubes in his body that it looked like he was being attacked by a swarm of snakes. There was no trace of peace on his face. It was twisted into a lifeless grimace of pain. That wasn’t what I wanted to see. I’d come to find some peace for myself but it was obvious that my old friend had none to spare.

I’d known him for a long time. So long that it makes me feel old just thinking about it. We’d gone to school together. We’d played together. That was the golden age of our friendship. Riding our bikes around the quiet little streets of our old neighbourhood. Climbing trees in the park, daring each other to climb ever higher. Playing football in the park, jumpers for goal posts, three goals and you’re in. Challenging the other kids to a match. We always had to be on the same side because we knew all of each other’s little tricks. Playing tag and British bulldog and all the rest of those old games. Stealing sweets from old Mrs Jones’ cornershop. Knocking on doors and running until we collapsed panting on the green grass of the park, our home turf. Fishing in the canal. We never did catch anything. Conkers in the autumn, catching frogs in the spring and water fights in the summer.

The summer was my favorite time of year. The sun was always shining. There was never a cloud in the sky and not a thing to worry about. Those happy days seemed to stretch on into eternity. If I do ever get through the pearly gates that is what I hope will be waiting for me on the other side, the long summer months of childhood. Having said that I guess he won’t want to play with me anymore. It wouldn’t be the same without him.

It’s pretty academic really as they probably wouldn’t let me in. You can’t have any old riffraff singing in the celestial choir, playing their harps in that great gig in the sky.

They’ll let him in though. Not because he led a particularly saintly life. No sir, not by any means but he could always charm his way into anywhere. He’ll have the angels eating out of his hand in no time. He didn’t look like a slick charmer lying there on that bed, and of course he couldn’t use any of his old lines, but all the nurses fussed over him all the same. He always had a way with the ladies. As a teenager all the girls I had any luck with were all crumbs from his table. Girls went out with me to be close to him or because he’d lost interest in them and I happened to be around. I shouldn’t really complain I got hold of some damn good-looking women that way. Far better looking than my natural place in the teenage foodchain would have earned me but I think that was where the rot set in. I wasn’t jealous, it wasn’t anything like that, but he could never resist the temptation to rub my nose in his success.

Our prom night was the best example. Kelly Thompson had been mooning over my friend since before anyone could remember. I’d been obsessing over her for almost as long but she was way out of my league, and she had eyes only for him. A couple of weeks before prom night he asked her if she’d like to go with him. Naturally she said yes. I can still remember her telling me all about it. She was all happy smiles, and wild plans for her big night. I had to stand there with a fake grin on my face, pretending to be happy for her.

I shouldn’t think about his flaws, not now. He was a good friend to me. We had some great times together and they weren’t all during our childhood years. We used to go into town and go out clubbing. We’d dance the night away and go home with a couple of stunners each. Well maybe I’m exaggerating there but they were still good times. If we’d had too many drinks to have any chance of picking up women we’d end up round his place talking about life until the early hours. As the dawn rose we’d promise to always be friends, and to always be there for each other. We were close, practically inseparable. We always had been and I guess we both assumed we always would be.

It wasn’t just women who came between us, money was an issue as well. The experts say that nine out of ten arguments in relationships are about money. Not that we were in a relationship. We weren’t gay or anything, although some people might have thought that we were. The point is that money always causes problems. He was doing well for himself you see. He had a tedious sounding but very well paid job in a prestigious marketing firm. I was happy for him. It’s always nice to see a friend succeed. It makes you think that there is hope for the rest of us. I wasn’t doing quite so well but I was keeping my head above water. I did a few odd jobs, a bit of ducking and diving. I am a man of many skills, a bit of an entrepreneur you might say.

Above and beyond my varied business interests I had my system. My system was flawless. I knew everything there was to know about horses and I’d worked out how to tell exactly how each horse was going to perform in any particular set of circumstances. I took every single little detail into account. It was all very scientific and it could have made me a very wealthy man. There were a few teething problems at first, one or two minor factors that I hadn’t taken into account. Once I had realized where I was going wrong I managed to iron out the bugs but unfortunately by that time I’d lost quite a bit. I wasn’t worried. You have to speculate to accumulate and I knew that I was about to start the longest winning streak of my life.

He was my oldest and closest friend. Naturally I decided to give him the opportunity to invest in my nice little earner. I wasn’t asking for charity. I was going to pay him back that very day with a very healthy amount of interest. It really should have been a nobrainer but what did he do? What did he do? He said no, and then to add insult to injury he launched into some holier than thou lecture about me having a gambling problem. Going on at me about responsibility and hard graft and getting my life sorted out. That stuff might have worked on his underlings at work but I knew him too well to take it seriously.

It was a terrible thing to do to a friend. To do it to someone who had been through so much with him was almost beyond comprehension. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t prepared to lend me the money. I couldn’t believe the hateful lies I was hearing coming from the mouth of my best friend. Until my trip to the hospital that was the last time I saw him. I was so hurt, but I forgave him.

I had to forgive him, didn’t I? I had no choice because I found myself in that hospital room, standing over his mangled body, listening to the life support machine beep away the moments. I lent down to him and whispered into his ear. ‘I forgive you. Goodbye.’ Then I pulled out his oxygen pipe, picked up a pillow and held it over his face until he stopped breathing. It’s what he would have wanted. What if he’d woken up confused? He never would have been able to live with himself if he’d let slip that it was his oldest and closest friend who pushed him down those stairs.