The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Judging by the way he was dragging more than usual, one would believe that Charles had just left a funeral all alone. Completely
drained, the man stepped into his warm, empty apartment and neatly placed his cane right beside the door. From there, he
slugged his heavy body into his bedroom and sat down on the side of the bed that was facing the window. The only thing the
man could hear outside were children playing and the city bus roaring by. Beyond that everything inside his head had gone
silent.
He sat on his bed with a stomach so twisted up in knots that he could barely even breathe. He had to brace his own body to
keep it from shaking. In all honesty he didn't want to leave the jailhouse; he had to assemble every last bit of courage just to get
on the bus. By the time Charles even made it to the apartment building his will had all but left him. Seated on the bed was a
hollow husk. All he desired at that point was an end, a fitting finale; and the wait was even more dreadful than the eventual act
itself.
Charles sighed before a lonely tear began to drop from his left eye. Just as soon as he was about to shut his eyes he heard the
front doorknob rattle and twist before the creaking of the door itself came into earshot. He listened as the door closed shut before
footsteps began plodding across the floor. Immediately, the man held his breath before his heart pounded loud and hard enough
to where it felt as if it were about to explode right through his chest. Charles gulped as hard as he could while steadily staring out
the window at the sunlight that was trying so desperately to peek from out of the clouds that morning.
From out of nowhere the robust aroma of fresh roses floated into the bedroom before Charles could feel a presence creep up
behind him. He began to whimper out loud while shaking hysterically. He tried so hard not to look, but he couldn't help himself.
Out of the corner of his right eye he saw a black figure walk into the room and bypass him altogether on their way to the window.
Charles nearly fell over at that blistering instant. It was a man dressed in an all-black suit and tie. He just stood at the window
looking out at the emerging sun.
Charles was so flabbergasted that he couldn't even operate his own tongue. He was still shaking, but it was a whole different
kind of tremble that had seized him without warning.
The man remained at the window for a few moments before asking in a dull tone, "Do you remember when I was a kid, and you
would take me down to the train yards to watch the engines go by?"
Still quaking, Charles' tongue fumbled, "Ye...yes," he drooled.
"I used to love going down there all the time. I'd always be in school wishing I could hop on one of those trains and ride away
from math class. Or whenever we'd go to Aunt Henrietta's house. I used to hate going over there because of those mean cats of

hers."
Charles cracked a grin while even more tears fell from his swollen eyes. He couldn't take his eyes off of the man who had his
back turned to him the entire time.
"That day...I went down there and nearly got on one."
Charles had to push as hard as he could just to speak. "Wha...what stopped...you?"
The man hesitated before replying, "I guess deep down I just wanted it all to end. Everything...from start to finish."
Charles wanted the man to turn around so badly. He wanted to jump up and fling him around just to see his face if not for one
time.
"All those trains coming and leaving. Moving so fast. All I could do was just stand and watch each and every one pass right by
me. Then...one of those trains just stopped. Just like that, it stopped. And mama said that I need to hurry and get on before it
takes off again."
Charles nearly chocked right then. All he could do was sit and cry without making a single sound in doing so.
"I think I can finally get on that train and just sit back. Thank you for dressing me up for my trip." A few silent seconds passed
before the man simply turned and began back towards the bedroom door.
Without even looking at his face Charles' broken voice spoke up and muttered, "You be a good boy now, and tell
your...mama...that I'll be home from work soon."
The scent of roses lingered in the air even after the man had departed. Charles continued to sit and blindly gaze out the window
while sobbing. He couldn't move even if the building were on fire at that point.
Soon, the front door could be heard opening and closing all over again. Charles noticed something that sounded like keys rattling
behind it. The man quickly wiped his eyes and face clean before lifting his heavy frame up from off the bed and limping with
rubbery legs into the living room to find Audra blatantly traipsing around checking the windows and thermostat. Charles could
sense the heat emanate off of her like an open flame as she rampaged about like a busy bee. He saw it coming from miles away,
and he knew that it was all justified.
Without even looking in his direction, Audra bitterly ranted, "I need to find someone to do something about these drafts around
here before the winter arrives. One nearly knocked me to my feet as I got to the door."

Charles suspiciously gawked from one end of the room to the other before venturing deeper until he found himself at the front
door.
He leaned his arm against the door in a defiant manner and remarked, "Why on earth would you want to pay someone to come
up in here and do something about the draft when all I have to do is take myself down to the hardware store and get some
sealant?"
Audra abruptly stopped short of the kitchen's threshold and stared oddly at the man as if she had never laid eyes on him before.
Going over to the side of the couch, Charles reached down and picked up his library books before heading back over to the door.
"Now, I gotta go down to the library and turn these back in. But once I'm done with that then I gotta go down to the hardware
store and pick up some supplies to fix Russell's icebox, and then I'll get that sealant. And also, please tell Mrs. Howell the next
time I go over to fix something in her place to have her bathrobe on. The last time I was in there the woman was in her
underwear. I nearly had a stroke when I saw that, and I'm getting too old for shocks anymore."
Audra stood with a blank face before a quaint smirk eventually came from out of nowhere. "Okay...I'll let her know." She humbly
whispered.
The two stood fifteen feet apart from one another grinning before Charles began to blush and mutter to himself in a jocular
manner right as he exited the door with his cane helping him along the way. The very second Charles found himself out in the
hallway he halted his every move and held his breath until he couldn't any longer. He turned his head and gazed down at the
other end of the quiet hallway before turning to the stairs that led downwards.
He waited and listened before a certain image of his son ran across his mind. It was such an idyllic recollection that it made
Charles' body sweat from his head to his feet. He wanted to smile, but held back out of fear. Charles eventually moved his stiff
legs towards the steps and began his descent. Before he could even touch the final step Robin came huffing and puffing through
the front door.
A sweaty clutter as usual, the young man took off his hood and looked up to see Charles. "Oh, good morning, Mr. Mercer," he
said aloud.
Charles at last touched the first floor and just stood and stared at the man with such a benevolent grin on his face that he nearly
toppled over onto the floor with elation.
Standing at the door, Robin said in a skittish-type manner, "Uh, Mrs. Audra said that you would be packing up and leaving soon."

Charles dropped his books to the floor before stumbling forward and embracing the young man as tight as he could in his arms.
The second he let go of Robin the boy stood back in astonished wonder with a quivering lip to match.
"Uh...are you okay, Mr. Mercer?"
Bending over and picking up his books, Charles replied with a bland smile, "I don't for sure. All I know is that...I have to be
somewhere. I'll see you when I get back." He sighed before patting Robin on the shoulder and exiting the building.