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    Rupert
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Matt Howes - Tragedy and Fear - 2. Chapter 2

As I sat in the Conrad lounge, nursing my drink, I debated with myself the offer of having a drink with Erin. Why not, I thought? What could be the harm? Sure, I’m pretty confident he was being flirty on the flight, why towards me I’m not so sure. What did he see in me? What signals, if any was I giving off?

Dark thoughts swirled around my head again. This was all so confusing. What had my life become, what was it about to be? I had my second brush with ‘mortality’ uncertainty in two years; the recent destruction of my immediate family. I’m returning to the Middle East and what kind of life? What kind of life did I want given the changes which had been thrust upon me?

While I had made acquaintances in my job, none were ‘good’ friends, the one solid colleague I had met my first day there had returned to his life in Europe. We communicated most days still by text or email, but there were a lot of things we had never really discussed about our lives.

I thought about how anonymous this could all be. I was in a foreign city, in a big box hotel, in transit. I had a truck load of narcotics in my hand luggage – all legal, over 200 10mg tablets of morphine amongst others. I could have another couple of vodkas, go back to my room and take a handful of tablets and be the ‘guest’ discovered sometime the next day when housekeeping came to clean the room. A byline in the media – an executive in transit, recently bereaved, no suspicious circumstances – nice and easy, for me at least.

Sure, family and friends may grieve for a while, my sisters in Australia would be upset I hadn’t taken their advice to stay and seek professional help for my grief. My brothers in the UK, Spain and Japan would wonder what they may have been able to do from afar, but all the uncertainty, confusion and grief would be over, wouldn’t it?

I thought back to Erin’s comment in the galley earlier in the day, “Sometimes it’s easier to talk about things with strangers; we are all strangers before we become friends”, maybe I could just talk to him. Ships in the night, right? He would go his way the next day; I would go mine – whichever direction that may take. I still had all my narcotics; a few more drinks may just help along the way if that’s where I decide to go.

Fuck it I thought, what did I have to lose? If it all got too much I could always leave anyhow.

I gathered up my phone and room card and headed down to the lobby bar. We hadn’t actually discussed where we may meet up but I figured that would be as good a place as any to look. If he wasn’t there, nothing was lost. As I headed down in the lift I kept going over the thoughts in my head. I had never been this indecisive and confused. I’m a lawyer; I pride myself on being able to critically work through issues in a systematic way, but not this time. Not lately. I was feeling my whole being, my whole self and self-worth had been shaken to the core. I really had no idea where I was heading or even what I really wanted any more.

The lift arrived at the ground floor lobby and I wandered out to find the bar. There were actually a couple of venues which may have been an option. I scanned around to see if I could see Erin.

Would he be alone or together with other crew from the flight? Would I even recognise him when he was not in his uniform?

I walked around the downstairs bar for a bit and was about to head upstairs to check out the other venue when I felt a hand on my arm and a voice say “You came, I was beginning to think you may not”.

It was Erin standing there, dressed casually but in a fashionably contemporary way – he looked good.

“Yeah, I came” I replied, with a little laugh, “I’m not really sure what I’m doing though”.

“We’re having a drink, does it have to be anything more than that? You looked like you needed a friend on the flight today and I’ve been known to become friends with lots of diverse people over the years – from all sorts of situations”.

I smiled at him and followed him over to a table. “Are you here with anyone else?”

“No the others were here but have headed out for some food, if you hadn’t shown up I was just going to go up to bed” he responded.

The waiter came over to our table, “What can I get you?” I asked him, “I’m a man of simple tastes, I’ll have a beer thanks” he said, “I’ll have a vodka tonic please” I said to the waiter.

“So, Erin, tell me your story” I decided to start off the conversation. I really didn’t know anything about him and while he only knew me as the sad, teary passenger on the flight up from Melbourne – who had just lost his family, “what made you become a flight attendant?”

“Well” he began “I’m Newcastle born and bred, one brother and one sister, parents still alive, a normal suburban upbringing, cricket in the backyard, beach in the summer. I studied to be a teacher and did that for a couple of years after graduating but then decided to change direction and see the world!”

“Interesting choice” I replied, “has it been what you thought it may be?”

“All that and more” he smiled “I’ve been to places I would never have imagined seeing, and met amazing and interesting people I could never have hoped to meet back in Newcastle – for sure” he added, laughing.

Our drinks arrived and we settled in a relaxed conversation about places we had traveled to and enjoyed or disliked.

After a couple more rounds of drinks, I was feeling comfortable and a bit more like my ‘normal’ self when Erin said to me “well Matt, I’ve told you a bit about me, but what about you, what’s your story?” I sighed, I guess knowing that there was no way to tell my story without it coming back to where I was now but it was only fair to share.

“Well, here goes it’s very convoluted. I come from a ‘blended’ family; I have five brothers – although one died over 20 years ago and four sisters from three mothers and three fathers. I grew up all over the world. I was born in Australia but left when I was three months old and didn’t return until I was 12 and even then only stayed a few years before moving overseas again until I was 17. I went to University in Melbourne and started to study medicine but switched after a couple of years to law. My mother and stepfather wanted me to do medicine but I just couldn’t get into it, at least they weren’t too disappointed that I switched to law. My mother and father split before I was born and my mother moved to Perth from the UK just in time for me to be hatched. She already had two daughters from a previous marriage and then me! She met and married my stepfather in Perth and they soon moved to the USA. My stepfather was Canadian so I managed to wind up with Australian, British and Canadian citizenship. My father married and had a girl and two boys and then his wife died, he remarried and had another two boys so that’s where this big blended family comes from. He and his wife, two of my brothers and one sister live in the UK and one brother lives in Japan with another in Spain.”

“Wow, it certainly wasn’t a ‘suburban’ upbringing” Erin exclaimed.

“No, far from it” I answered, “but it has been interesting, at times challenging but interesting nonetheless”.

Erin raised his eyebrow and said “Challenging? In what way?”

“I didn’t have a great relationship with my stepfather, in fact we didn’t speak for the last 25 years of his life. My mother and he split when I was about 19 and she went on to marry a couple more times – Elizabeth Taylor had nothing on my mother” I chuckled.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that” Erin said.

“Don’t be, it is what it was, sometimes what appears exciting can be masking a whole lot of unpleasantness and disharmony, I was glad to be out and away from it frankly”.

“How did you wind up living in the Middle East?” Erin asked.

“Well, after finishing law and spending a bit of time working for one of the major law firms I decided that working for ‘billable hours’ wasn’t for me. I got a job in government, first in policy positons, and then in writing legislation, some around criminal law but then I branched into health legislation – which covers a broad area from patient rights, public health initiatives, practitioner regulation, food and water standards all sorts of things. I was lucky enough to be seconded for a time on Federal government AusAID projects in the Pacific and Asia helping to develop local legislation and then was head hunted for my current job.”

“What an interesting story!” Erin said, smiling again, “but from what you spoke about on the plane that has all changed”. Here it was, I didn’t really want to go here but it was what had caused our connection in the first place.

“Yes” I sighed “It has all changed, and where it will wind up I just have no idea”.

“I’m a really good listener” Erin said gently “and sometimes just getting things out there takes the sting from the tail”.

What did I have to lose? As I thought earlier, we were passing ships in the night, tomorrow he would fly off to London and me? I would either fly back to my empty apartment and my confusion or maybe be a byline in the paper.

I signaled for another round of drinks and asked Erin if he wanted to change what he was drinking, “I’ll have what you are having this time” he replied.

“two vodka tonics please and make mine a double” I said to the waiter.

I swallowed hard; did I really want to do this? The evening so far had been pleasant, lighthearted and good conversation and now, now I may have to go back to thinking about all the crap I had been staggering about in.

“Ok” I said “although I’m not so sure why you are interested?” Without letting him answer I launched into what I thought he may want to hear, and what I thought I may be able to divulge without becoming emotional again. “A couple of years ago I was diagnosed with cancer, I had a big operation and the follow up chemotherapy and after one year everything appeared clear, late last year I became unwell again which is when it was discovered the cancer was back with a vengeance, multiple tumors throughout my gut. The treatment wasn’t available in the Middle East so I had the option of treatment in Australia or the UK, as we were spending xmas in Australia anyhow, I elected to be assessed for surgery there. Luckily they could take me and so we went back to Australia in February. As the school year is Northern Hemisphere dates in the Middle East we had to pull my son out of school to travel. My wife and he stayed until I was out of surgery and ICU and then were heading back home when, well you know the rest” I said trying not to choke on my words.

“I’m really sorry to hear that” Erin said quietly “that is a whole lot to try and put up with individually let alone when you put it all together”.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, I wasn’t sure what else to say or whether I should just try and wrap it up and leave it at that when he reached over and put his hand on mine and said “It’s awful but there’s more to your story, isn’t there?”

“I’m, I’m not sure what you mean?” I said, looking at him.

Who was this man? What did he see in me which could bring him to that conclusion?

“I see someone who has been touched by tragedy, sure, but there is a deeper conflict in your eyes” staring straight at me, “I have a good sense of people and there is so much pain and confusion going on in your mind right now. I saw it the moment I first came up to you on the plane.”

I stared back at him. What was he getting at?

“I’m not sure what you mean” I answered, hesitatingly.

“There’s harm in your eyes” he said pointedly, “You’re thinking of harming yourself aren’t you?”

I stared at him, shocked. How could he have seen that? How could he know?

“You are, aren’t you?” he asked again.

“I may have” I answered softly.

He squeezed my hand which he still held, “There is nothing to be gained by taking that route. I lost a couple of school friends’ years ago; all it does is leave gaps behind which others can’t understand how to fill”.

I could feel my fears and emotions rising up again and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to control them. “I’m not sure I can talk about this anymore, I think I should call it a night, it’s been great getting to know you and thank you for the shoulder.”

“I don’t think you should be going anywhere on your own” he said to me, “I don’t want to read about you in a footnote in the paper and I can’t now go to bed knowing the space you are in. I’m not sure more alcohol will help this night along, how about we grab some food to soak up all these drinks?”

“I’m really not hungry” I replied “I don’t eat much post-surgery.”

“No worries, I’m starving, how about we head upstairs and grab some room service, I can get what I want and if you feel like a little something. I have no intention of letting you be alone with whatever are those other dark thoughts you’re harboring until we’ve had a chance to talk about them and at least get them out into the open – a problem shared is a problem halved as they say.”

I was still not sure I wanted to do this, I’m not sure if I want to share any dark secrets of mine, sure they may not be that dark to others but they were my deeply hidden, suppressed secrets. Yes, I had just met this guy and yes we would probably never see each other again, his rhetoric seemed genuine but was his agenda? Did he have one or did he really just not want to see me come to harm.

I figured I would just put it out there and ask him. “Why are you doing this? What is in it for you? We may never see one another again. You may talk me through tonight and fly off tomorrow without knowing what happens after this.”

He sat for a minute before answering, looking down he said quietly, “I think you are wrestling with your own uncertainty about who you really are, deep down. In case you hadn’t noticed I’m gay and I think you are and have not been prepared to admit it.”

I nearly spat my mouthful of drink across the table. “What makes you think I’m gay” I exclaimed, “I’ve just lost my wife of over 25 years!”

“I know, but I as mentioned I have a good sense for people and from our conversations on the plane about the monologue in ‘Call me by your name’ together with what you have told me tonight, I think I’m on the money.”

I was completely taken aback by what I had just heard. All the conflict and confusion started to well up again, I almost felt like I was going to be sick right then and there.

He looked at me again and said “I’m right, aren’t I? Let’s go upstairs and talk about this some more where it’s a bit quieter.”

I sat there staring at him. This was make or break I guess. I either admit something I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit openly or force it back down, out of sight but never out of mind. Was I ready to face my own fears?

What was I about to do?

To be continued.

Copyright © 2018 Rupert; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

I have raced through this chapter. So, not sure if I should comment yet.

So much feeling, so many hints (I did notice the vast amount of narcotics and wondered what a desperate man might use them for, especially as vodka was mentioned right after).

Glad that he's run into a sympathetic stranger. Probably exactly what he needs.

There are so many different ways this story can go... I wonder where you are leading us to

 

Thanks for sharing

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How all of us deal with those times of tragedy in life varies and many of us consider taking that awful step, but we don't. I don't know what makes makes any of us handle those times better or worse than others but however we deal with it there is a common denominator, it's that feeling of desolation. The stranger in the bar, the fellow passenger on the train or even the caring stranger who is our flight attendant can often help us to see things more clearly and that is probably because they aren't invested in our lives like others are and this can give that clearer train of thought. You've described it all well and in a caring way, that shows skill. I'm hoping that the next chapter leads to that, as yet unknown and uncharted future that we all have and hopefully embrace.

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