The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Chapter 18

For the past hour, Jeremiah had been seated inside his car, just sulking and staring ever so drowsy- eyed at his upper-crust apartment building from the safe confines of the parking lot. In fact, the man was so sleepy that his head nearly hit the steering wheel in front of him. The very instant he caught himself, Jeremiah quickly gazed around to see if anyone else was in the lot passing by before he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a bottle of pills. The man twisted the cap open and dropped two pills into his left hand before downing them both without any aid of a liquid.

From there he wiped his scruffy face with his hands while listening to a strange engine pull up beside his own vehicle. It was a sparkling new Delorean. Jeremiah had never noticed the car parked in the lot in times past, but there were always people coming and going out of the building, so one more unfamiliar car wasn't going to subtract another year from his life, he thought.

Right before he was about to turn his vehicle over a familiar face opened the odd looking driver side door of the Delorean and got out. Jeremiah took one glance, and then much to his dismay took another.

"Jeremiah," Paul, without his beard, and adorned in a brown, leather jacket stared strangely at Jeremiah's car.

Jeremiah could have driven away, but without notice, the will to cut on the ignition had all but vanished at that point. He gave up. Rolling down his window, Jeremiah smirked, "Hey, funny seeing you here."

"Yeah, it sure is, buddy." Paul stood back and eyed the car. "I, uh...I just dropped by to see how you were doing."

Chuckling, Jeremiah glanced behind him in the backseat at all the books before saying, "We haven't seen each other since July, and you just happened to be in the neighborhood?"

Paul just planted his hands into his coat pockets and said, "Look, Jeri, I've been really concerned about you. I was just wondering if you and I could talk."

"Well, as a matter of fact, I was just about to go inside and have some lunch."

"Good, we can talk in your place then."

Jeremiah turned to the building before him and responded, "Come to think of it, why don't we talk out here? My place is a bit of a wreck."

Nodding his head, Paul walked around to the other side of Jeremiah's car and got in.

Jeremiah sat and studied his old friend with a grinning contort. "Isn't that funny? I'm the one that has the beard, and you don't."

Snickering, Paul replied, "Yeah, that's a real trip."

The two men sat and watched as two young women got out of their cars and carried on towards the building before Paul eventually spoke up.

"So, how have you been?"

"Who me," Jeremiah pointed at himself. "Oh, I've been better." He moaned.

"Yeah, I can tell."

Jeremiah then took a gander at Paul and began grinning, "Look at you. New threads, new face, you even got yourself a brand new car."

"Yeah, top of the line. Cost me a pretty penny, too."

"I can tell." Jeremiah looked at the vehicle. "At first, when you got out of the thing I thought you were climbing out of a spaceship rather than a car."

Paul just chuckled before saying, "Jeri, I didn't come all the way here to talk about my car."

"Then what did you come all the way here for?"

"Look, I know you think I'm still pissed about what happened back in July, but I'm here because I'm genuinely concerned about you."

"Really," Jeremiah looked subtly stunned. "Were you concerned when I was laid up in that hospital for nearly a month?"

Paul just turned his head in shame at that second. "Jeri, I wanted things to simmer down between us before I came and visited you."

"Is that right?" Jeremiah's tone grew. "Well, as you can very well see, I'm living and loving the single life here at The Hampton Arms."

Looking back at Jeremiah, Paul said, "Yeah, I can see that. I can also see a man who has all but secluded himself from society. What are you doing with yourself anyways, Jeri?"

"You wanna know what I do with myself these days? I'll tell you. I spend the remainder of my money on a middle-aged hooker that I meet up with from time to time."

"Christ, Jeri." Paul sighed.

"Yeah, you can call on him, too." Jeremiah indignantly remarked.

"Look, Gloria was a damn basket case. Ashlandview gave me bits and pieces of her. She had no reason being let out of that place as soon as she was."

Smugly turning his head to Paul, Jeremiah asked, "Do you honestly believe I've been grieving over her all this time?"

"Well, I—

"I watched a semi-truck destroy that woman right before my very eyes. Hell, I kinda wished it had taken me out, too."

"So what, you're screwing a hooker every night and feeling sorry that you survived the beating of your life?"

Jeremiah just wringed his hands as if they were stinging before he tried in earnest to get comfortable in his seat. As he tossed and turned he caught Paul looking in the backseat; it was right then Jeremiah felt two sizes small beside a giant of a man. Reaching behind and taking one book, Paul flipped through its pages before eyeing Jeremiah ever so strangely.

"I know that what you thought you heard in those tapes was fascinating, but you do realize that Gloria went through a very traumatic event, don't you?"

Blushing, Jeremiah said, "Yeah...yeah, I realize that." NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

"Then what the hell is this all about?" Paul pointed at the book.

Jeremiah sat and contemplated inside his own head like a lost traveler in a foreign land. "Isaac Mercer is still with me. Every waking day."

"Holy shit," Paul abruptly shouted out. "Okay, look, I don't mean to minimize Isaac's life. He was a human being, too. But for God's sake, Jeri, you've gone too far with this!"

"You don't know what I've been through all these months!" Jeremiah yelled back. You weren't there in that field with me! I heard these things all around me! Hell, they nearly got me before I escaped!"

"Okay, what do you think Isaac had to do with any of this?" Suddenly, Paul sat back in his seat and looked at Jeremiah in the most awestruck manner possible. It appeared as if every last breath had been instantaneously sucked right out of him. "Hold on, you don't think for one moment that Isaac Mercer was this, do you?" He pointed again at the book. "Is that what you believe, Jeremiah? Are you actually going to sit there and tell me that that's what killed everyone over the summer, too? For crying out loud, Jeri, this is real life! We've got an energy crisis going on and you're about two steps away from blasting off into Mars!"

Jeremiah sat in his seat with his irate lips poked outwards. At that point he couldn't even look Paul in the eye.

"That man is still alive." He uttered so softly.

"No, he's not." Paul bitterly remarked. "Isaac Mercer is dead. He's been dead since February, Jeremiah. You've lost everything over this; a fucking fairy tale."

The two men sat for a few minutes perfectly quiet before Paul took a card and placed it on the dashboard.

"I really did drop by to see how you were doing." Paul mournfully uttered. "I'm sorry it took me so long to do so. I wish I had been there sooner. Why don't you get out of town for a while?"

Without even looking at him, Jeremiah asked, "No life lessons from Archie Bunker this time around?"

Paul sat for about ten seconds before climbing out of the car. Jeremiah as well got out and made his way towards the building where he went inside and stood behind a wall where his view to the parking lot was visible.

From where he was hiding Jeremiah could see Paul get into his vehicle and take off down the road. Two young men passed Jeremiah in the warm hallway right as he was about to turn towards the elevator.

"You going up," one of the men asked.

Jeremiah gazed up at the ceiling for a moment before waving his hand and saying, "No...I was just leaving." At that, Jeremiah went right back out the door and to his car.

Before he did anything, Jeremiah took the card that Paul had left on the dashboard and studied its writing. Inscribed on the card were both Paul's practice and his phone number. Jeremiah's eyes at that instant began to squint with rage right before a tear started to flow down his left eye.

Jeremiah simply tore the card into tiny bits and pieces and tossed them to the floor right before he finally cut on the ignition and roared out of the parking lot.