The Old Man and the Game

“Hey, Dad, you don’t look so good. You feeling okay?”

James couldn’t get over how pale his father looked. He slyly spied on his father as he leavened a fork full of scrambled eggs to his mouth. Normally his father’s complexion took on a bronze tone. It was rather lovely for a portly, bald, sour pussed, septuagenarian man who wore sweat pants pulled clear up to his ribs, a tucked in t-shirt on a daily basis; even out in public. His complexion is probably the only physical quality one could complement him on.

“Yes, I’m fine!” Gerald grumbled, tetchily. “Your mother asked me this morning, your wife, if anyone else asks me this morning I’ll keel over and have a heart attack. That’ll get you people to leave me alone.”

A brief silence overcame the breakfast table as Gerald noticed his wife, Harriet had poured him a bowl of Cheerios. He picked up the spoon and let a few milky morsels spill back into the bowl as he heard a crunch from across the table.

“You going to the game today?” asked James as he slowly munched on his first strip of bacon. He always saved it for last. He knew the question was a stupid one but he needed to break the silence. The awkwardness was causing him actual physical pain. It seemed to be affecting his dad as well, who kept massaging his left arm.

“Of course I’m going to the game today and so are you! You promised. I haven’t missed a single one yet. It’ll be just like old times having you there with me. The Eagles are going to State this year, you know? I can just feel it. This is the year…. now give me a piece of that bacon.”

Football was the game. The most beloved of games as it normally is in Texas, but for Gerald, it was his world. High School football season was more meaningful to him than Christmas, or at least that’s how James thought his father felt about it.

Gerald motioned over to the kitchen with his thumb like a hitch hiker and said, “Now get over there to that skillet and fry me up a few eggs like a good son.”

Gerald slid his bowl of Cheerios over to James and nabbed his plate of bacon. Two precious strips left.

“Uh no, if you want eggs, you take it up with mom. Put the bacon down. Put it down. Put. It. Down.”

Gerald sneered at his son and slowly lowered the bacon to the plate and slid the plate back to him with a growl.

“Mom says you’re a cheese shred away from a heart attack.” James picked up a second strip of bacon and ate it with a smile just as Gerald shoveled a spoonful of soggy Cheerios into his mouth with a scowl.

“Yeah, cholesterol is a little high. Blood pressure too. Your mother keeps making salads and stuff for me to eat. Apples. It’s rabbit food! I don’t want anything to do with it. I tell her I’m running up to the shop to check on things when I’m really swinging by Burger Bomb.” Gerald chuckled.

“Well, Dad, eat the rabbit food and then maybe one day you can eat a nice, greasy, salty strip of bacon just like this again, without having to sneak it.” James took a giant crunch out of the bacon, closed his eyes leaned back in his chair and moaned, “man, oh, man, so good. So, so good.”

Gerald glared at him and waved his hand at him as if he were swatting at a fly, “get outta here…and don’t forget about the game!”

James got up from the table to place his plate in the sink, “I won’t, I won’t.”

Gerald finished his bowl of Cheerios, got up to place his bowl in the sink. He noticed a few crumbs of bacon left on James’ plate so he took a quick look around, licked the tip of his finger and dabbed up the salty morsels. Gerald closed his eyes and savored the taste. His wife, Jane comes down the stairs with a load of laundry and notices her husband standing at the sink with his eyes closed, holding a bowl.

“….Gerald? Are you alright?

Gerald snapped too, embarrassed, and quickly placed his bowl in the sink.

“Yes, yes, you asked me that already?”

“Well, honey, if you caught me standing at the sink with my eyes closed, I think you’d ask the same question.”

Gerald grumbled as he made his way to the living room where he would plant himself for the remainder of the day, happy he got away with the tiny bit of bacon. This must be the rush thieves feel when they steal something.

Jane watched him place his rear in his favorite chair, a big shape in the middle of the cushion. The shape an exact imprint of Gerald’s hind quarters. She shook her head that he has sat in that same spot consistently enough to leave a “butt print” in the chair. She imagined a morbid situation where Gerald has gone missing for a few weeks and then the police knock on her door claiming they found a body they think might be Gerald, but the body is in bad shape. A truly gruesome sight. The police ask if she would be willing to come down to the station see if it might be Gerald. She imagines herself grabbing the cushion to his favorite chair knowing this would be a sure-fire identifier of her husband. If the fanny fits, it’s him. Jane shook her head and then let out a little giggle. She loved her husband and prayed nothing like that would ever happen, but laughed at how she really could use the chair cushion if it ever really did.

The television clicked on as Gerald situated himself with a sigh of satisfaction, sipping his coffee with a nice helping of heavy cream to cut the bitterness. Whether he was a shred of cheese away from a heart attack or not, he was having his coffee the way he liked it.

No football on yet so the Price is Right would have to do and then shouting obscure answers at Jeopardy.

That nagging pain in his left arm had intensified and now he felt like a chimpanzee was sitting on his chest. He must have had a bad bowl of cheerios, he thought, maybe the milk was expired. Gerald didn’t bother to get up and check. It didn’t matter to him that much, and he certainly wasn’t going to bring up to Jane that he felt ill. She’d make him stay home or worse, take him to the doctor who would probably

prescribe more pills for him to choke down. Nope. He was going to tough it out. If he still felt bad after the football game tonight, he’d let Jane know then.

“You forgot to drink this this morning. And here are your pills. What would you do without me to keep you alive?” Jane handed Gerald a Boost nutrition shake and enough pills to choke a baby horse. She stood and watched him to make sure he took his pills, and emptied the boost. Gerald handed back the empty bottle with a look as if he ate a lemon slice.

“Only because I love you.” Jane said.

The chimpanzee had now grown into a gorilla sitting on Gerald’s chest. He took deep breaths in between shouting answers at Alex Trebek. “Maybe a glass of water would help?” Gerald thought. He eased himself up from the chair.

“I’ll take ‘Clothing through the Ages’ for $400, Alex.” Muttered a voice from the television.

Gerald stood for a moment in a daze the refrigerator seemed like it was miles away as he stared at it from his position in the living room

“In Ancient Rome, a balteus was a shoulder ‘belt’ formed from the twisted folds of one of these garments.” Alex said.

Gerald took a meager step forward, collapsed to his knees and cried out, “What is a Toga?”

He fell on his belly, waving his fist in the air as he shouted to the television, “What is a toga? Alex!” Gerald succumbed to the pain and heaviness on his chest. He lay there on the living room floor moaning into the carpet. “This can’t be happening.” He thought, “I really was a cheese shred away from a heart attack…only it was bacon. Tiny, delicious, pieces of bacon.”

Jane came out from the laundry room, “Would you stop shouting at the T.V.?! He can’t hear yoh, God! Gerald!” Jane cried. “James! Call an ambulance. Your father has collapsed.”

James rushed down stairs and dialed 911 on his cell phone, filled the dispatcher in on the situation and hung up.

“Dad! Wow, Dad just lay there and take it easy. Breathe big deep breathes!”

“…those medics… better… hurry. We’ve only got three hours… until… the game.” Gerald muttered between labored breathes.

“What?! Dad, there’s no way we’re going to the game this afternoon! You’re, I mean, look at you! You’re having a heart attack. You’re lying on the floor fighting for your life!”

Gerald slowly turned over onto his back, reached up with his right arm and wrapped his hand into the collar of James’ shirt. He tugged James a little to make sure he was paying attention. Looking him eye to eye and said, “We’re going to that game.”

The medics pulled up in the ambulance, hoisted Gerald onto a stretcher and rushed he and Jane off to the hospital.

Laura, James’ wife, met James in the living room where he stood adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“Holy cow, what just happened? I just saw an ambulance drive away. Was it your dad? He looked awful this morning.”

“Yep, it was dad. He’s having a heart attack.”

“Guess he’s not going to the game tonight then, huh? At least not if your mom has anything to say about it; and the doctor. He’ll probably have to stay at the hospital.”

“Oh no. She won’t stop him. The doctor won’t stop him. Nothing will stop him.”

“Are you serious? There’s no way he’ll get out of the hospital in time.”

Three hours passed when James’ cell phone finally rang. It was his mom’s number and he hoped for good news. Laura stood close to hear the conversation.

“Hey Mom, Dad alright?”

“Bring a Boost and candy from mom’s stash and meet me at the field.” Gerald directed.

“What? Dad, no. You need to rest and eat a good meal, c’mon.”

“Boy, you bring that Boost and candy and you have your behind at that field! Mom’s dropping me off. Turns out it was just a little indigestion.” With that, Gerald hung up.

James put his cell phone down and bowed his head as Laura shook hers in disbelief. He grabbed his keys, coat, some candy, and a Boost, just as he was instructed, and left to meet his father at the high school football field.