Jackson

A man tries to cope with the loss of his wife.

I rolled over stretching to the other side of the bed, reaching to find my dear Isobel. I reached to find nothing but cold sheets and a wave of depression. The wave of nearly unbearable sadness almost drowns me as I open my watery eyes and squint against the bright, white, sunlight glaring off of the off white walls and into my sore tired eyes. I close my eyes and flop back onto my back and take in a deep breath of the crisp, fresh, morning air flowing in through the open window. “Yet another meaningless day without, my dear, sweet Isobel.” I think to myself. Jackson must have heard me sigh, as he lumbers up the bed to breathe his butt breath on my face and lick me good morning. He is wagging his tail and licking the hot wet tears off of my face as I try to push him off and get up. I kiss his forehead and laugh. He's always been good at cheering me up, and lately, the only thing that can cheer me up even a little. I think he is sad too though since she left. He hasn’t been acting as peppy as he usually does, and he rarely eats. I worry. I stroke the soft, blond, fur of his back and he nuzzles my side as I sit on the edge of my now too big bed. I look out the window at the lovely fall; The leaves falling off of the colorful fall trees and floating briefly in the soft, cool breeze before hitting the ground. It looks as if the trees are on fire and dropping ashes onto the world below, burning up the ground with the bright reds and yellows. I sigh, wishing the ground truly was on fire, and that it would consume me- swallowing me up- and taking me home to my sweet Isobel. Standing up suddenly as if pushed by the fire in my mind, I startle Jackie. He jumps up and follows me into the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. I start the coffee and make myself a big bowl of fruit loops, my favorite, remembering the last time my Isobel brought me breakfast in bed. She had brought in a big bowl of fruit loops, because she knew they were my favorite, a cup of coffee with 3 tablespoons of sugar, 2 cream, and a shot of chocolate syrup, also my favorite. She always remembered things like that; She was always so thoughtful. I smile sadly and tears fill my eyes again as I remember what happened. She was trying to be sneaky, but tripped over nothing and spilled the scalding hot coffee and freezing cold cereal all over my poor, just waking body. Man was that a way to wake up; She felt so bad. The look on her face was priceless, though, as she realized that it was going to fall and tried to stop it and got it all over herself as well. We both laughed until tears. She was always such a clutz. I remembered hugging her close and kissing her forehead and telling her that it was ok, as long as we are both ok. I wiped the tears away as I came back to the present, and poured myself a cup of hot coffee. I sat at the table and Jackie sat at my feet, keeping them warm with his big, furry body. I eat my cereal and drink my coffee in sad silence. I get up and put my now empty bowl into the sink, noticing the clock on the microwave. “Crap.” I muttered to myself, making Jackie look at me. “We gotta go. We are going to be late for your doctor's appointment, Jackie.“ I say to the dog before I rush up the steep carpeted stairs and into my cold lonely room and throw on the first outfit I see- khaki pants and a blue polo shirt, Isobel's favorite. I run down the stairs, tripping on the last one and falling to my knees. Jackie jumps and runs to me licking my face to see if I'm ok. “I’m ok, Jackie.” I mutter tears filling my eyes for an embarrassing third time this morning. I stand up and keep moving, ignoring the pain in my knees, and grab Jackie’s leash before hooking her on, going into the garage, and letting her in the backseat of my old ford truck. Isobel and I had taken this truck everywhere; We took it all over the country to California, Texas, Florida, Arizona, Oregon, Michigan, and many more, and this old truck had the wear and tear to show for the many years of love and use. It was big, red, covered in sunspots from being out in the sun so much, and a little rusty around the edges. I put the key in the ignition and turned the key, making the engine come to life with an almost deafening roar. I pushed the button on the visor to make the garage door creak open, put the truck in reverse, and the tires squealed as pulled out of the driveway in a hurry.The smell of burning rubber greeted my nose as I sped out of the subdivision and onto the road. I pull into the vet’s driveway without even remembering most of the drive there, it was a blur. Jackie and I walk into the vet’s office, are greeted with a cacophony of dogs barking and people talking, and walk up to the counter of bored women on their phones. They don't notice me at first so I clear my throat, trying to get their attention so that I can sign in. The one sitting closest to me snaps a big pink bubble before sighing, turning her phone face down in her lap, flipping her brassy-brown hair over her slim shoulder, and turning to me with a fake smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hi! How can I help you?” She asked in a falsely cheery voice that was like nails on a chalkboard. “Hi.” I grumble. “Jackie and I are here for his appointment.” She said nothing and started tapping on the keyboard of the computer in front of her with her too long, fake, sparkly pink, nails. She didn’t look away from the computer and said “He’s ready to see you now. He’s in room 2.” I didn’t understand. Usually, I have to wait twenty minutes before we get to go into the room, so when she said this I stared dumbly at her for a moment before reacting. I looked down at Jackie and said “Well, Jackie, I guess we won’t be waiting today. Sorry, bud. I guess you’ll have to flirt with the lady dogs another time.” I patted his head and noticed the weird look the woman behind the counter gave me as I walked into room 2. When we got into the room there is no one in the room yet, so I sit on the uncomfortable, old, worn, wooden chair and to wait. Jackie meanders around the room a bit before settling by me. I pet his forehead as he looks up at me. I notice how much weight he’s lost since Isobel left, probably  from not really eating. But he doesn’t really want to go on walks, and he's out of breath from just walking around the room. I worry that he’s depressed. The makes Jackie and I jump and look up as she breezes into the room with her long legs, lab coat, short brown hair and deep brown eyes. She walks over to me and I get up to shake her hand. “HI! How are you today?” I can tell she’s genuine so I smile. “I’m fine, you?” I lie. “I’m good.” she walks over to the round stool across from me and sits down looking at the papers in Jackson’s folder. She frowns and I feel the smile slip from my face as my stomach sinks to through the floor. “So, it says here you came in last week because you were worried about Jackson being depressed and that upon examination they found a lump on his leg?” I nod, unable to get words past my suddenly dry mouth. “Ok. The tests came back from the lab.” She pauses as if trying to find the right words to say. “Sir, the tests came back positive. He has cancer.” She keeps talking but I've stopped listening. No. He can’t. I won't lose him too. My ears are running, my mouth to dry, and my eyes too wet. The only words that cut through the stupor are the words “only a few weeks” and “pain minimization” she sounds so grim as she says this that I can’t take it anymore. I get up and walk to the door and walk out of the vet’s office and into the car, Jackie following close behind. Still in a stupor, Jackie and I get into the rusty old truck and speed out of the driveway. When I get home I walk in and throw the key on the counter and pace the kitchen. I need to do something. I feel like I'm about to crawl out of my skin. I walk up the stairs, ignoring my still aching knees, and into my too big, empty room, with the too big bed, the too white walls, and the too empty closet. Everything empty, like me. Jackie walks a few laps pacing with me then settles on the floor panting next to the bed, too tired to jump up on to the much more comfortable bed. I look away and walk over to the photo still sitting on my dresser and pick it up. I look at the photo of Isobel and me at our wedding, I am kissing her forehead and she has a big smile. She looked beautiful in her wedding dress, it was white and cinched around the waist accentuating her curves, her beautiful long hair was down and flowing around her shoulders in waves, and even her soft brown eyes are smiling in the picture. Something wet hits my cheek “I’m sorry, Isobel” I kiss the photo before gently placing it face down on the old, worn down, wooden dresser that Isobel found free on the side of the road and fell in love with, so much so that she finagled it into the old truck all by herself, brought it home, and refurbished it. It was beautiful in its own way, and definitely unique. I pulled open the top drawer with a squeak from the old track, ruffled around through the socks and underwear until I found what I was looking for, and pulled it out. I put it in my back pocket and turned to Jackson, walked over to him, squatted down and stroked his soft blonde fur. He sat up to lick away the tears and I hugged him tight to my chest as if he was my only life-preserver and I was lost at sea. I kissed his forehead as I pulled the object from my back pocket and put the cold, hard, metal end to his head. “I’m sorry.” I whisper as I pull the trigger. There’s a loud bang and I feel warm wetness on my face, mixing with my tears. Jackson is laying limp on the carpet, looking at peace. I stroke his face and kiss him once before standing and going back to the old dresser to pick the picture back up. I feel numb. I don't even feel my feet as I walk over to the bed and collapse onto the bed in a sobbing mess hugging the picture, gun still in hand. “I can’t do this without you, Isobel. I tried! I really tried.” I sit up and rub my face, hoping to make the feeling go away but it just smeared the hot wetness on my face. I put my hands down and look at the gun. I stare for a few minutes, slowly getting myself under control. I put the gun up to my temple and whisper “I’m sorry, my sweet Isabella. I will see you soon, my love.”