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Published: January 23rd 2008
A Worthy Sacrifice
"Fuck you and your fucking God damned religion", the man, now fully through the gaping front door, screamed. Behind the anger, barely noticeable, he stifled a sob. He grabbed the door handle and, transferring his rage, slammed the door. The warm yellow light from inside evaporated. Howls from worried neighborhood dogs rose instantly, disrupting the deep summer night stillness.
The young man, long black hair tattered from sweat, turned to the street, took two steps across the sidewalk, but stopped suddenly. He turned, bent over and, now standing with rock in hand, looked up at the lit second floor window.
"All of the time I wasted on you. Six years," the man shouted up at the light. He was now fully sobbing. "Jeanine, never again. You will never see me again." He paused, body rigid. His eyes went inward, groped around and, seemingly having fixated on something hidden below, flickered. "Jeanine, I love you." The words burst out of their subterranean jail.
Shuffling was heard from behind the window. A second later a woman's head filled the window frame. Her curly auburn hair cascaded down her back. Even now, not a single strand was out of place.
"Go, then. See what I care" she said slowly, turning her head away. And then, turning back to the window quickly, "Will, I love you too. I have to do it. You know that. I have goals, and goals are the most important things in the world."
"That settles it, then" Will replied sadly. The air went out of him, his head dropped, the rock clattered down on the sidewalk. He began walking disinterestedly across the street, forcing his legs forward. He reached a dark green Honda Civic. The back window was nearly blocked out by suitcases. He grabbed the door then paused, looking back at the house he had rented with Jeanine for, God knows how long. The light went out in their old bedroom, Will got in the car, and drove away.
Minutes later, the dark green Honda pulled up at a squat brick house. Will got out of his car looking more put together and knocked. The door swung open, held by a thin attractive man with flowing blond hair. Instantly, the man knew what this was about. He stepped through the door and embraced Will with a broad hug, letting the door bang shut behind him.
After a full ten seconds Will, now comfortable enough to let his tears flow, choked out "Thank you Keith." Then he paused, wiped his cheeks dry, and repeated earnestly, "Thank you."
Keith opened the door and, still with an arm draped over Will's shoulder, led him inside to the living room.
"Anything to drink?" asked Keith. "Tea, coffee?"
"No, I don't need anything." Will was trying to be strong.
"I know you don't need anything. But come on, have some tea. I got some delicious green tea from Rachel for my birthday. You gotta try it out."
"Ok."
Will pushed away the flowery throw pillows and sat down on the couch, while Keith disappeared through a swinging door into the kitchen. Minutes later Will heard the piercing hiss of a boiling teapot, followed by Keith's entrance, mug in each hand. Keith set the mugs on the low coffee table and relaxed into the couch. His right leg was on the cushion, knee and body facing Will. The cozy room was softly lit; yellow, faintly patterned curtains hung from the windows. The room was steeped in the aroma of freshly cut roses, which spilled out of their porcelain vase. In all, a room with a woman's touch.
"So, tell me, man" Keith enquired.
"Its over. That's all there is to it. Its over and I move on."
"Yeah? After six years its just gonna end like that?"
"Yeah."
"And you're okay with that?" Keith shook his head in disbelief. "Will, how long have we known each other? Eleven years? You might pull off this act with other people, but not with me. Don't do your whole superman act right now."
"What do you want me to say, Keith? You want me to sit here and cry and profess my undying love for Jeanine? What do you think that will do? She's going, Keith. She's going whether I like it or not."
"Well, allow yourself to feel vulnerable for a start. What was it, two years before you were willing to say 'I love you?' Listen Will, I know I'm tough on you, but lets be real for a second. You are madly in love with Jeanine. Even at this very second. No, especially at this very second."
"I'm not going to live in the pa-" Will began, but was interrupted by his own sobs. He continued, now less sure of himself "Do you know how much it hurts? Did you know how much we talked about marriage?"
"I know. Look, I'm not saying to be like Rachel and me. But you more than anyone would know what we had to go through to wind up where we are now. And each day with her is more beautiful than the last."
"If she didn't go it would be different" Will said, working himself up. "I'm not the one that's leaving. It's her. So what I really don't understand is why you have me here, trying to get me to bemoan my fate. Jeanine doesn't leave until tomorrow evening. If you're so serious about us, then go talk to the one who is destroying everything." At this remark Keith's calm facade fell.
"Oh, and you've given everything to the relationship huh?" Keith said bitterly. "I suppose she would still take the job in LA if you converted?"
"FUCK you! You know what, go fuck yourself" Will exploded. "You know as well as me that I am never going to do that. That's me. That's myself. Now you're just talking fucking crazy."
"Yeah? So one piece of flappy skin is worth more than the thing that has given you the most meaning in your life? Ok. I'm just saying. Here you are bitching and moaning about how Jeanine won't give up what means the most to her, and the thought of you going all the way hasn't even crossed your mind."
"You wouldn't do it either. Maybe over these years you've hid in the back of your mind that I should do it, but have you thought about actually doing it yourself? Don't make me sound like some pussy for wanting to hold on to something of myself."
"Yeah, that sounds right. But just hold on for a second. Just think about this. Have you ever given yourself to any relationship? You hold your parents at arms length, your brother, well you know what I think about your brother's situation, and even me, you never confided in me when you were the most in need." Keith hesitated, seeing that Will was getting furious, but proceeded on nonetheless. "Now I know your getting pissed. I know you like to hear something, disagree with it, disagree with it again, then a month later come to the revelation yourself, but if you can take one piece of advice before shutting me out of your life again, do this: give yourself to people."
Will had heard enough.
"I come to you when I most need you, and you aren't there for me." Will stood up with his face flushed and, looking poised to leave, said, "That's my life, I give everything and get nothing in return." He stepped around the low table, past his now cold tea, and opened the door. From the doorway he looked back at Keith, still sitting in the same slouched position. "Hey Keith. Thanks for nothing." Then the door was closed. Keith stayed there unmoving for a while. His face displayed the unhappy satisfaction of taking an ill-fated, necessary action.
"Well, I did what I had to do" Keith murmured to himself as he stood, picked up the teacups, and carried them to the bright kitchen.
Will awoke to find himself lying on a wooden bench down by the river. Late morning light serrated his eyes. The park was brimming to life. The grass was shared by groups playing Frisbee and soccer. And in each unused corner of the grass couples lay on blankets, facing each other.
Will balled the two coats he used as blankets up into his lap and hunched over, staring into the rippled gray water. He sat there glumly, mind dulled, body dulled. He gazed into the abyss and felt nothing. He spent some time like this. It could have been a couple of minutes, or it could have been an hour; if you asked, he couldn't have told you. Then a high pitched child's voice broke the spell.
"Grandaddy, why is my dad moving away?" the little voice enquired.
"Well," responded an older voice, gruff, yet gentle. "Your dad and your mom are having problems right now. It's an adult thing. We have these problems, but then we work them out and everything is better than ever." Will looked towards the source of the sound; an old man with curly white hair and a big bushy mustache, a tweed jacket and penny loafers. He was holding hands with a fair haired little boy with scared blue eyes.
"But why does he have to go? Why can't he fix the problem at home?" asked the nervous boy.
"Sometimes people need time apart for the air to become fresh. You know, Granma and me were apart for a little while."
"Really?" the boy exclaimed, relieved. "And you and Granma are fine now. I know 'cuz whenever I come over she bakes me cookies and smiles. So Mom and Dad are going to be okay like you and Granma?"
"Just a hunch, but I think so. I think when they each realize what they mean to each other, they will let go of the stories they've made up about the other person." The older man picked his head up and gazed out over the water. They were silent for a couple of seconds and continued to walk towards Will. But before they got there the old man stopped in front of a bench. He turned towards the boy and asked, "Do you want to hear a story?"
"Yeah," the boy responded animatedly. "I love your stories Grandaddy."
"Ok. Have you ever heard of the Gift of the Magi?" he asked.
"No. What's that?"
"The Magi were the smartest men in the world. They knew that the best gifts were the ones from the heart. Like the painting you drew for me last week." The old man looked down at the boy lovingly. "Here, sit down." They sat on the bench, facing the water. "Once upon a time there was a young couple who had almost no money, but were happy because they had each other," began the old man . As he spoke his voice came out smooth as dark honey. Without realizing it, Will listened intently.
"The woman had the most beautiful long blond hair in the entire city. It reached down to her knees; she hadn't cut it in ten years! Mornings before work she would spend half an hour combing her hair until it shone. She didn't have fancy clothes to wear but, because she had her hair, she felt pretty. Every day, as she passed the deli across from their apartment on the way home Mr. Scott, the owner of the deli would yell out, 'Goldilocks! Good evening Goldilocks.' To which the young woman would respond joyfully, 'Evenin' to you too Mr. Scott!'"
The boy interrupted, "Her hair was as pretty as mom's?"
"Even prettier, and much longer too. Now her husband was a hard working young man who worked long hours to provide them food. He had one prized possession, his gold pocket watch. Often, when he was out with Johnny and the boys watching the game, he would lose interest, pull out his watch and start polishing furiously." As the old man made the circular hand motion his whiskers shook about cheerfully. "The young man loved that watch, and because he took such good care of it, it never broke, not in fifteen years."
"Every year at Christmas," continued the grandfather, the center of his grandson's and, unwittingly, Will's attention, "the couple bought nice gifts for each other with the money that they had saved up from the entire year before. But this year money was tight; they only had five dollars between them. 'What am I going to buy my lovely husband?' she asked herself. She thought about it hard, and the more she thought, the more distraught she became. Finally, on Christmas eve she made a decision."
"What decision Grandaddy?"
"I'm getting to that, have patience. She went out of the apartment building, onto the sidewalk, down two blocks, and arrived at Jenny's Hair Restoration. 'Do you buy hair?' she asked the owner. 'Sure do,' replied the lady. And before the young woman with the beautiful hair could continue, the salon owner said, 'I'll give you seventy five dollars for that there hair. I've never seen nothing like it before.' Without hesitating the young woman responded, 'Deal.'"
"By the time the young woman walked out of the beauty salon, her hair was shorter than this finger." The old man pointed to his right index finger. "Then, she went straight to the jeweler. There she bought the gold watch chain from the display case that her husband had admired for years. She walked hurriedly home, ran up the apartment stairs and opened the door. Her husband was already there. 'Oh honey, what happened to your hair?' the man asked, looking confused. 'We didn't have enough money for me to buy you the present I wanted to, so I sold it. Here is your gift.' She handed him the small wrapped parcel. As the man opened it, a look of understanding came over his face."
The old man paused. His grandson looked up at him and said, "Don't stop Grandaddy. What happens?."
"The man looked up at his wife and said, 'I sold my watch so that I could afford this,' as he pulled out the most exquisite set of combs from Macy's that his wife had been commenting on for the whole Christma-." Will's cell phone rang. "Hello, who is it?" asked Will, jarred from the trance.
"It's your brother. Come to the hospital. I have news" came the voice through the phone.
"What kind of news?"
"You'll see when you get here." The man on the other line hung up. Will put the phone down on the bench by his side and looked up, out across the water again. He shook his head slowly, disbelievingly. A trickle of blood appeared on his chin. He was biting his lip. Will stood up slowly with coats in hand and shuffled off to his car.
Will arrived in the hospital. Stale, sanitized air clung to everything; death seemed to loom in every corridor and each compartment. Will walked briskly towards the IC Unit where his brother Sean lay in his bed, afloat in a sea of instruments.
Will came in the door and saw Sean motionless in his bed. The door closed behind him automatically. Sean rolled over. His face was pale, his hair had been cut off completely.
"So glad you came," Sean said meekly, devoid of energy.
"Sean, tell me the news. Spare me the theatrics," said Will brusquely. "Jeanine is leaving for good tomorrow, so I'm really in no mood for theatrics."
"They found a donor. You're spared the lifelong guilt you deserve."
"Oh thank God!" Will ran over to his brother and threw his arms around his neck. Sean felt their cheek's rub. Will's were wet. He was crying. They held each other in the way that only brothers can. Suddenly Will pulled back and asked seriously, "Are you going to hold it against me?"
"No. No, I'm not going to do that. You always were selfish. You can't expect people to change. Cuz then you are just let down by false expectations. So, no, I'm not going to hold it against you."
"The procedure is dangerous. I could have died. I was scared, Sean, I was scared."
"You knew what would happen to me if I didn't get a kidney. And yours happened to match. You know if it was the reverse I would have done it."
"I know."
"You know what? Yeah, I am going to hold it against you. Not because you're selfish. Everyone cares about their own survival. But because you are a coward. A bloody coward."
"Is there any way I can make it up to you?" Will interrupted, urgency in his voice.
"I'm going to be fine. I don't need you now." Sean's eyes looked distant. "You know, it could have been your finest hour. Risking everything for someone else. Someone you love. But your chance has passed. Next time, don't waste your chance." But before Sean could finish Will had burst out of the room. Will sprinted down the hall. He turned a corner. He flew down the next. He descended four flights of stairs, three steps per bound. He raced down another corridor. His heart pounded. He came to double doors. He crashed through them. He was in a waiting room. "Excuse me? Can I help you?" asked an austere middle aged receptionist quizzically.
"When is... your... earliest available... surgery.. time for doctor Ross?" replied Will between huffing breaths.
"What is your name?" the lady asked, still wondering why this man had thundered into her domain.
"William Marriman."
"And the procedure?"
"Circumcision." The woman was shocked.
"We don't do that procedu-" began the receptionist, but was cut off by Will before she could finish.
"Yes you do. Dr. Ross and I have already talked about this. Tell him I took the jump and that he should call me." Will had already begun moving towards the double door when the receptionist called, "And where are you going?"
"To live my life."
The little town was bustling with activity on this sunny Saturday afternoon. The world was brimming with life. Two squirrels chased after each other up the trunk of a giant oak tree. Down by the park a man fed a family of ducks. Seagulls swooped in, quicker to the take. At the hospital a new child was born, dripping with fluid. The relieved father and depleted mother looked into each other's eyes. Ruth Johnson pushed Mrs. Jackson in her wheelchair to the community center for her crocheting. Two neighborhood kids threw a football in the middle of the street in front of Jeanine and Will's apartment. A green Honda roared around the corner and swerved, nearly hitting the older kid.
The car swung screeching across the left lane and remained motionless. It was awkwardly pointed towards the curb. "Watch! Will's going to do it!" one of the kids yelled excitedly.
Will exploded out of the car across the sidewalk to the porch. His face was taut with determination. But his eyes were bluer than normal, and twinkled. He reached the steps to the porch, took them in one leap, and reached for the door handle, but before he grasped it, the handle was pulled back out of his grasp.
Standing there was Jeanine, hair disheveled. Will stopped short with surprise. Jeanine stood still, shocked. Then in an instant the world regained its pulse.
"Jeanine I LOVE YOU! I'm converting!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, surprised to hear himself say it. He fell upon her with the warmest embrace of his life. Seconds flew by as days, minutes as weeks, and when Will looked in Jeanine's hazel eyes, he saw the world. Then her eyes closed, she pushed him arms length away and said slowly, as if having to concentrate on every word, "I turned down the job. To stay with you. I was coming to find you. I love you so much."
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taddie
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It's really good, although the lines are so long it makes it more dificult to read (I mean on the computer - I doubt you have any control over that) just a question - does circumcision in itself equal conversion to judaism? Of course the meaning is still there regardless, but i just wondered