Brian Plante - Something Meaningful

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Something Meaningful

Brian Plante

Sometimes, cures don’t exactly work out as they are intended. Such is the case in

Brian Plante’s story about a unique second chance.

* * * *

“Irene, where’s my pipe?” I called. That woman was always hiding it on me. Can’t a

man even smoke his pipe without his wife interfering?

Irene pointed to my hand. I looked down, but the pipe wasn’t there. In my

palm were pills. Lots of them. Blue, like the color of those space aliens. Was that

really my hand, all covered with freckles? When did I get freckles? No, wait, they

were ... liver spots. And the knuckles were all gnarled. I remember now, I had

arthritis. Stop shaking.

When had I gotten so old? What year was this, 2011? No, that would make

me 55, and my hands looked older than that. The aliens came in 2020, and that was

... how many years ago? I was holding ten or twelve blue pills and a couple of white

ones. The blue ones were the nighttime ones, for when I couldn’t get to sleep. See, I

do remember! And the white ones were for motion sickness, so I wouldn’t barf.

Was I going on a trip, then? Could this be the aliens’ ship? Irene kept telling me

something like that ... something about a lottery and the aliens coming for me. Did I

win? But no, the surroundings looked too familiar. It was just a regular bedroom, not

a cabin on a spaceship. Was this ... yes, I think I was in my own bedroom.

“What are these for?” I asked, dropping the pills onto the sheets beside me.

Didn’t I just take a bunch of pills? Was it time for more?

Irene gathered them up and put them back in my shaking hand. “It’s to help

you sleep, George.”

Irene was all gray-haired and wrinkled. Perhaps sixty or so. Older than I

remembered, and I was ten years older than she was, so I must be really old,

although I couldn’t remember when that might have happened.

“Sleep?” I said, looking over at the alarm clock and squinting. Both hands

were on the ten ... it was ... it was...”But it’s ten o’clock in the morning. Where’s my

pipe, Irene? Have you seen my pipe around here? You’re always losing my things.”

Irene frowned. “You haven’t smoked a pipe for twenty years, George. Now

swallow these pills. It’s time to go to sleep.”

“Ten o’clock in the morning and time to go to sleep? And they say I’m the

one losing my marbles. Bring me my breakfast, and stop this nonsense.”

Irene walked over to the window and opened the blinds to show the inky

blackness outside. “It’s nighttime, George, not morning. Time for a rest. Please

don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

“I am not tired,” I said. “Get me some raisin bran and an English muffin, and

don’t make me wait all morning.”

“This is for the best, George. Please swallow these pills, and quickly.”

I put a couple of the pills in my mouth. Irene handed me a tumbler of water to

wash them down. At least, I thought it was water. I sputtered on the first sip and

nearly spit out the pills. The glass contained vodka, not water. Now I remembered. I

did just take a bunch of pills earlier. Maybe a lot of pills. And I remembered being

surprised by the vodka.

“Christ almighty, Irene, what are you trying to do, kill me?”

Irene looked startled. “It will help you sleep,” she said, putting the remaining

pills in my hand.

“Dammit, woman, stop talking nonsense. I’m going down to the park for my

walk. Get me my clothes. Is Bernadette coming over?”

Irene bit her knuckle. “Bernadette died twelve years ago, George. It’s just you

and me.” She turned away, but I thought I saw a tear roll down one cheek. “Would

you like to see Bernadette again?”

Bernadette dead? It couldn’t be…I just saw her the other day. I must have

heard Irene wrong.

“I would like to see Bernadette,” I said. “When is she coming over?”

“Please, George, take your medicine,” Irene said, pushing my hand toward my

mouth.

I looked down. In my hand was a bunch of blue pills. Same color as those

aliens on TV. Didn’t I just take some pills?

“What are these for?” I asked.

“George, please! Just take them.”

I swallowed a few of the pills, and sputtered on the vodka again. Irene cleaned

me up and gave me more.

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