Happy Birthday Mr. Sidney

By Paul Maddams

Stuart Sidney has spent his last few months ignoring the things

that matter most, his family and friends. Since losing the love of

is life, Claire, he feels there is nothing left.

Or is there?

We can only hope

that during our death

we do not regret our life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 18, 2003
• ISBN: 9781410705228

Paul Maddams

I have always enjoyed writing. Creating something from nothing, has always been a passion. Taking a blank piece of paper, then creating words that can and hopefully influence others is something I hope to accomplish.

Book preview

© 2003 by Paul Maddams. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

ISBN: 1-4107-0522-6 (e-book)’

ISBN: 1-4107-0523-4 (Paperback)

Contents

Introduction

Pears

Realization

Bikes And Bears

Watches

Friends For Life

The Dark Side

Grandpa

Baseball

Shadows

Weddings

Wednesday

The Letter

Billie

The End

About The Author

Thanks Angle & Erlcka

To Contact

EMAIL

[e-mail]

Revision 12/05/05 editing

Inspired and completed by

Advanced Word Graphics

Brea, California

To my friend

Clint Gleason

May 16th 2001

Pizza makes me think of my friend, Clint. We would sometimes order pizza at work. I always made sure I invited Clint, he loved his pizza. Clint showed me life is too short to not take chances. Not just in daily life, but also in love.

Clint fought, and lost his life in an up hill battle against

unspeakable odds. He was 46 and a proud father of

three beautiful daughters.

Thanks to Mom & Dad for always being there.

To my daughters Nicole & Courtney for all their support.

To my high school best friend Mike Carew, we sure have seen a lot.

Introduction

First off. Thanks to all of you that have selected my book. Those of you that are just holding it or reading the introduction to see if you like, either put it back or buy it. Just kidding. Sort of, that’s also assuming I didn’t give it to you as a gift.

On a serious note, this story is inspired by a true incident experienced by a Paramedic while on a call. I was so taken by the story it had me curious how someone could end up in this type of situation. What happened in this person’s life to bring them to this point? My story may seem sad at first, but it’s meant to wake up your emotions. I hope it helps you to understand why we look at others as we do. I also wanted to make it somewhat light hearted with a touch of mystery. I was told that I managed to hit all the senses, which I hope to do for you.

We can only hope

that during our death,

we do not regret our life.

Paul Maddams 11/05/00

Happy Birthday

Mr. Sidney

Chapter I

Pears

This was my second time walking to the store this week. I keep forgetting what I need by the time I get there.

I can hear Claire saying, Write it down, honey, so you don’t forget.

I won’t forget, I would always say.

Sure enough, I would forget.

I miss her so much it seems like years without her, yet it’s only been a few months that she’s been gone. She was to me the most beautiful woman in the world. It’s amazing how alive someone can make you feel. Now I feel so incomplete without her.

Just knowing she was home or out doing errands was satisfying enough. I knew she would be home with me sooner or later so we could share our day. We both felt so complete with each other. I wish everyone could know how good that makes you feel.

I was about to turn seventy-two in a few weeks and wondered if anyone would even remember my birthday. Of course since Claire was no longer around, there was not much contact with our family. I just wasn’t the type to call anyone on the phone. Claire would have to take the phone and hold it up to my ear just to get me to talk.

I was just rounding the corner onto my street when I noticed the three boys that lived a few doors down from me playing in their driveway, riding bikes. I stood for a little bit to catch my breath and watch them as they played. Actually I was not too anxious to walk past them, the last time they all stopped and stared at me as I walked by.

I was trying to decide if I should cross the street and walk on the other side until I got to my house, then I could cross back over. The more I thought about that idea, the less I liked it.

Crossing the street would require extra energy and that was something I just didn’t have a lot of, energy. I was almost seventy-two and I felt more like ninety-two. This old body just didn’t care to move like it used to a year ago. In fact there were a lot of things I just didn’t care to do at all anymore.

I started to walk again, thinking maybe the boys would ignore me as I passed them this time.

The boys seemed to be enjoying themselves as they rode around in circles and up and down the driveway. They must have been between ten and fourteen years old. As I got closer to them I wondered whatever happened to my old bike.

I bet that would be worth a lot of money now, I said to myself.

The younger one heard me as I walked past the driveway and came real close to hitting me. I had to move out of the way as best as I could and I almost fell. The two younger boys started laughing at me.

Dumb old man, they said together and laughed.

The third boy stopped at the back of the driveway.

Hey you guys be careful, you could a hurt that old man, he yelled.

I’m not sure I appreciated his compassion since his tone was a little harsh. As I straightened myself up the one boy that almost ran into me said, Stupid old man!

I guess I deserved it. He probably thought I was strange talking to myself.

I can remember when I was young my friend Dennis picked up a pear that had fallen from a tree and threw it at an old man walking across the street. It was a wide street and he was proving how far he could throw, he told me he could hit that old man.

He did it all right! Dennis hit him right in the shoulder. At the same time that old man stopped and rubbed his shoulder in pain. It was mean. I remember laughing, but at the same time thinking how wrong it was that we did that.

Who knows why certain images and memories stay with you after all these years? I hadn’t even thought about that until this moment.

As I walked away from the boys I could hear them laughing and wondered if I was going to be hit in the shoulder with a pear or some other type of fruit. I thought if I was, I would turn around and see an old man standing there or a young Dennis with the boys in the driveway saying, Told you I could hit him!

I could see my house now and was thinking I was almost home where I felt safe.

As I approached my next-door neighbor’s I noticed a FOR SALE sign on her front yard. I sure don’t remember that before I went to the store. I looked around to see if anyone saw me talking to myself.

Old Mrs. Jordan was our nosy neighbor who had moved out to go live with her son and his family. I feared her more than the boys down the street.

Nosy old Mrs. Jordan would come running outside. I say old, but she was actually younger than I was. As far as I was concerned she was old. She not only looked old, she sounded old.

Mrs. Jordan would come running out of her house as if she was looking out the door waiting for me to go by. She stood about 4’10" and must have weighed about seventy-five pounds and would always wear one of those awful flowered housedresses that just hung on the shoulders.

I used to joke with Claire that the woman was just skin and bones and nosy. Claire in her usual manner would always say, Stuart. She’s just lonely.

She’s just nosy. I would say.

Since Claire was gone she felt it her duty to check up on me. Which wasn’t so bad, but it was every time I walked out of the house!

If I had the front curtains open in the house and she could see me, she would run up and knock on the door. For that reason those curtains stayed shut.

She seemed like a vulture to me circling its prey and waiting to attack. I was going to start coming the other way so I didn’t have to pass her house. I was lucky she moved or I was going to start doing that.

Hello Mr. Sidney, she would blurt out in her high-pitched voice as she ran waving to say hello.

You would think I couldn’t see her, let alone hear her. Maybe I should run, I would think to myself, but where?

How are you today, Stuart? she would ask.

I never liked her using my first name. When she said it, it was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Fine today, Mrs. Jordan, I would say. I used to roll my eyes as I answered her.

I could never remember her first name and why she had to blurt my whole name to the entire neighborhood was beyond me. I would continue to walk towards my safety zone, my driveway, and she followed as usual.

Did you go shopping again today Mr. Sidney? She would ask.

She would always repeat my name, plus it didn’t take a genius to see I had been to the store. I would usually be carrying bags.

As I walked towards my house I thought it might be better if she just threw pears at me. With her I’m not sure which would be worse, and of course her aim and throw wouldn’t be as good as Dennis. I might just stand a chance.

Walking up the driveway I realized I had been talking out loud to myself the whole time. I looked around to see if anyone had heard me. Fortunately they hadn’t.

Now that old Mrs. Jordan had moved I really didn’t know anyone in this neighborhood. I really felt alone now and was actually missing her bothering me.

I walked across my lawn and stepped up onto the porch, then set the bags down. I stumbled around in my pocket for the front door key. Once I unlocked the door I let it swing open and just stood there looking into my house from the porch. It was dark inside since I kept the curtains closed most of the time. I just stared into the darkness and wondered why I wanted to walk into such a sad and lonely place.

I bent down to pick up the bags and then slowly stepped inside. I looked over at the living room to see an empty couch and chair. I walked passed the dining room table and into the kitchen, wishing I could smell dinner cooking or a pie baking. Of course there was nothing.

I sat the bags down on the small kitchen table and walked back over to shut the front door. I closed the door and was expecting to see mail lying on the floor; I was disappointed and remembered it was Sunday.

I walked over to the dining room table and looked through the Saturday mail again, just in case I had missed something. It was all junk mail as usual so I threw it into the kitchen trashcan. I had already looked through it at least five or six times before.

I went back in the kitchen and began to unpack the small amount of groceries I had just purchased. As I unpacked it all I realized I had forgotten the paper plates I had wanted to buy so I didn’t have to wash dishes.

I know, Claire, ‘I told you to make a list so you won’t forget.’ I was nodding my head.

Yep! I know!

I was frustrated with myself. I went and sat in the den just off the kitchen. I sat down on the couch, grabbed the remote and just started clicking through the TV channels.

I just sat there not watching anything, just passing station after station. The longer I sat there the more frustrated I became. I was actually mad because I had forgotten the paper plates.

I shut the TV off then set down the remote and walked back to the living room and peeked through the

front curtain. It was getting late. It was too late for me to go back to the store just for plates now.

My whole evening seemed ruined just because I didn’t remember them. I suppose I was more upset with myself than anything since I knew I should have made a list.

I started pacing and walked into the bathroom and straightened out the towel I had hanging on the rack. As I walked passed the mirror I stopped and looked at myself. I shook my head. I looked and felt so old.

I walked out of the bathroom down the short hallway and stood in the door of the extra bedroom. It had remained unchanged for years. I just stood there looking around that room, trying to understand where all the years had gone.

Frustration was mounting every second I stood there. I turned and walked to the other end of the hall and went to my bedroom. I walked in and stood at the mirror just looking at myself.

What a mess you are, I said.

Your whole life right now is revolving around the fact that you forgot to buy paper plates. I shook my head.

I rubbed my eyes and looked down.

Claire, I sure need you right now. I have no one anymore. Not even paper plates.

I had to laugh at myself for that.

Sitting on the dresser was my favorite picture of the two of us taken just after our wedding. I loved it because it was a full-faced shot of us cheek to cheek and nothing but smiles.

I took my hand and gently rubbed Claire’s cheek through the glass. She loved it when I touched her that way. Her eyes would light up and I would just melt right on the spot.

You sure are in a rut, Stuart, I told myself.

Seems that most-times I get up in the morning just to go lie down on the couch.

I usually will lie there and just watch TV. I don’t even know why I do that. There never seems to be anything on except soap operas during the day or talk shows that are full of dysfunctional families.

According to the talk shows, that’s all this country has, dysfunctional families. Of course they could be right. I know we all hope we can raise our kid’s right, but everyone tends to go his or her own way.

I seemed to have ended up being very similar to my father in many ways. While I think about it, that isn’t bad. He did a lot of good things from what I remember.

I started thinking about poor old Mrs. Jordan. She had lived in that house for fifteen years and now her son had decided she needed to sell it just so he could have her near him. Why couldn’t he just move closer to her?

I used to treat her pretty bad on many occasions and I know her son didn’t like me very much for just that reason. The amazing part about that was when she moved old Mrs. Jordan still gave me her new phone number and told me I was welcome over to dinner or just to spend the day with her family anytime I wanted.

I had a hard enough time spending two minutes with her, let alone a whole day. I’m sure she will do just fine without me being around and bothering her.

Suddenly, I was feeling a headache coming on. I had these before. It was usually from the stress of a

busy day or just feeling sorry for myself. I sure was feeling stress right now.

I walked into the bathroom to run the bath water. The best cure for stress was to relax in a nice warm bath and just lie there and feel the water all over me. After all, I could lay there for a long time with my wrinkled old skin and you could never see the difference.

As the water for the bath ran, I walked into the bedroom to get undressed. My head was really aching, not a headache, but aching. It felt different this time. Maybe I should call someone, I thought to myself. I should call the paramedics. I was rubbing my head.

If I still felt bad after the bath maybe I would call 911.

When I got back to the tub it was steaming hot so I had to turn off the hot water before climbing in. As I bent down to shut the water off my head began to hurt even more. As I ran the cold water I stood in front of the mirror looking at my face.

It felt as if somebody had hit me with a hammer. I was looking to see if I had a bruise on my head, but all I could see was the red mark where I had been rubbing my forehead.

Since I could see that there was nothing visually wrong I decided the bath was the best cure for me.

I shut the water off and decided it was time to climb in. I slowly lowered my tired old body down into the warmth of the water. It seemed, for the moment, to take away the pain I was feeling in my head. As I finally came to a rest I found myself feeling very comfortable.

I grabbed an old orange colored washcloth that was on the side of the tub and soaked it in the water. I laid back to rest my head on the side of the tub then I placed the warm wet washcloth over my head.

That feels so good. Just what the doctor ordered, I told myself.

As I lay there waiting for my headache to go away, I couldn’t stop thinking about poor old Mrs. Jordan having to leave her home. Next thing, I was thinking about the boys down the street and how they treated me. Now, all of a sudden, I was thinking about those stupid paper plates. All of this was very frustrating to me.

Once again my head started pounding so hard and it felt so deep that I threw the washcloth off as if it was suffocating me.

It never felt like this before.

I was trying to catch my breath as if I was drowning in the water. I started to stand up as I slipped back down. My head hit the back of the tub as I tried to catch my balance and suddenly my headache was gone.

I felt a little breathless at first, but I got my composure back as I slowly settled back into the tub.

The warm water surrounded me, once more my entire body felt relaxed and calm. My headache was gone.

If I had known all I had to do was to bang my head to get rid of a headache then I would have used that for a remedy a long time ago, I laughed at myself. Who knows? I could have made millions telling people exactly where and how to bang their heads when a headache starts.

The bath was so relaxing I must have fallen asleep for a little while because I could feel the water was getting cold. I climbed out of the bath and grabbed the towel that was on the rack next to me. I was so cold I quickly dried myself off and ran into the bedroom to dress.

I had chills all over me for a little while, even as I dressed. Once I was dressed I could feel myself slowly warming back up. These old bones just weren’t as tough as they used to be.

My hair was wet so I went back into the bathroom to brush it. I opened the medicine cabinet where I kept my brush, then closed it to look in the mirror. As I ran the brush threw my hair I was startled by what I saw. I stopped! I stepped back quickly and leaned against the wall still staring in the mirror at myself.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the mirror. I slowly stepped forward looking directly at my reflection. As I stepped back to the mirror, I closed my eyes tightly shut. I wanted to open them, but I was too afraid.

Open your eyes. I said out loud. Open them!

I slowly began to open my eyes, but as I started seeing my face in the mirror I shut them tight again. Oh my, Oh my, Oh my. I don’t want to do this. Please don’t make me. I spoke out loud, but to whom I was talking I had no idea.

I forced my eyes open again. Nice and slow. I said.

I could see the light coming threw again as I saw my reflection start to appear in the mirror. I opened my eyes fully and kept a straight look at my reflection. I moved forward towards the mirror a little more and glanced over to the right, still looking in the mirror.

No, no, no, no!

I fell back against the wall, but this time I looked away from the mirror. I looked towards the door of the bathroom and ran out. I leaned against the wall facing away from the bathroom door, refusing to look back in.

No, No, No, No, No! I kept repeating it over and over.

I ran into the bedroom and tried not to look into the mirror on the dresser. I didn’t want to look at my reflection again. I covered my face and lay straight on the bed, faced down.

This can’t be happening, I must be dreaming, I kept talking out loud to myself. I have to relax and rest that’s what I have to do.

I kept my hands over my face and made sure I covered my eyes. I just wanted to stay there and wake up from this dream.

I was wakened by a noise at the front door. I opened my eyes, rolled over and got up, then walked to the living room to see mail on the floor. It was the mailman.

How long have I been sleeping? I stretched my arms then rubbed my eyes. A whole day had gone by. I was about to pick up the mail, but changed my mind. I was thirsty.

I should get a drink in the kitchen. I sure slept well.

I can never remember sleeping that long to let a whole day go by. I did feel rested.

What a silly dream I had. I was shaking my head.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. As I tipped my head back to drink from the glass, out of the corner of my eyes I could see the

bathroom light was still on. I stopped, slowly, setting the glass back down onto the counter.

Oh no! Please let it be a dream, I had this sudden fear all through me. It’s a dream. It has to be a dream. I kept telling myself.

I moved as far away from the bathroom as I could. I wasn’t going to look in that mirror again.

I sat down in front of the TV, but was afraid to turn it on. I lifted my legs up off the floor, then wrapped myself up in a ball and rested my face on my knees. I started sobbing and rocking back and forth like a child in fear of being punished.

Please, please don’t make me go back in there. I felt something in me telling me I had to go back in and look to be sure. I stopped rocking and slowly got up off the chair.

As I stood I could still see the bathroom light shining into the hallway. I stepped cautiously towards the bathroom and felt myself shaking from head to toe.

I have to look and be sure. I was trying to convince myself.

The floors creaked as I walked slowly towards the light. I held my head down so I could only see my feet as I moved closer.

I was right at the edge of the bathroom now with my head still down. I stood there looking at where the edge of the carpet met the tile of the bathroom floor.

Still not wanting to look up, I stood sideways along the wall of the bathroom. Each step was as if I was walking along the edge of a mountain cliff.

Without looking up I could tell I was right in front of the mirror now. Once again I closed my eyes tight as I slowly moved my head up to face the mirror.

Oh please, Oh please let it be a dream.

I opened my eyes and saw my face. I couldn’t help but