Wane --- Wane Stewart III lay in his penultimate resting place, knowing full well that his end would meet him within the hour. Though the long blinds were mostly closed, orange rays from the setting sun managed to slip through, hitting Wane directly in both blue eyes. Unfortunately, his vision had remained fully intact up to his final moments. ----- Wane did everything within his limited mobility to adjust himself upright - as to get the goddamned light out of his over-tanned, smoke tinged face. He refused to call the nurse in for assistance; the blinds would just have to stay in place while the sun moved around them. He rested his eyes for the time being. Lying facedown inside of ARMY medical tent 212, Wane lamented the loss of his left lung to that goddamned stray bullet. Still, he waited patiently for Nurse Betty to return with his fresh morphine drip. Even though the loss was severe, his young body still had one healthy lung left. More pressingly – Wane’s young body succumbed to Betty’s. Wane had lost his virginity just days before Jane, his high school sweetheart and fiancé back home, ever had the chance to take it in the first place. ----- Wane had just become comfortable when the sun managed to find him again. This time, he simply gave up and shut his eyes. He still saw the red seeping through his eyelids, but he deemed it ultimately less agitating than looking directly into what was quickly becoming the dusk. Lounging on the coast of O’ahu, Wane basked in dwindling sun, allowing its warmth to fill him up almost as much as his cigarette had. He let the menthol burn to its filter before sticking it in the sand. If it weren’t for the wife and kids back on the mainland, Wane was quite sure the island would have remained his home. ----- Wane opened his eyes, noticing the irritation of light subside. The Rocky Mountains had finally blocked the young star completely. It wouldn’t be long now. He checked the clock to note the passing of time, but its hand remained at 2:12. The cheep-ass VA hospital couldn’t even afford to change their batteries. Straddling a Harley, Wane felt at ease. “You like it?” asked the dealer, who clearly got more ass than he knew what to do with. “I love it,” replied Wane, who was still on his second piece of ass for the twentieth consecutive year. “So – should we start writing up the papers?” asked the dealer, who was in a hurry to hit the bars and add another ass to his collection. “Oh, no, no, no: I sell asbestos insulation. Mostly to housing companies. I just wanted to imagine this for a moment. It’s kind of an obsession of mine.” The dealer didn’t continue the conversation - he simply kicked Wane out of the dealership without another word. Keeping the place open past dark for some poor dolt only made him feel like more of an ass than he clearly was. ----- Wane kept his eyes completely open, closing them involuntarily only during coughing fits. It didn’t matter much either way, however, as the remaining lights were the ones indicating his slowing heart rate, the white florescence coming through the bottom of his door. He knew full well that visiting hours were over. He knew that his wife, Jane; his son, Wane IV; his daughters, Betty and Harley; his countless grandsons; and perhaps even baby Wane Stewart VI couldn’t possibly be waiting within the florescent light. He knew they weren’t waiting behind the door. As the pearly knob turned, however, and the brightness engulfed his room – Wane knew they were all there, waiting for him as they always had. Waiting for them was always worth the price.
Posted on: Thu, 11 Jul 2013 17:36:19 +0000