v12-final1

48
Michael stiffly let out a chuckle. “That is true, we are both here. I
think that does sum things up pretty well.”
“So what brings you here tonight? I have never seen you here
before.” I asked.
“I’ve been around here before, but usually don’t stay too long.
Not a fan of crowds. Tonight I was passing by. I have work late tonight,
but saw the place empty except for you. Figured a drink couldn’t hurt to
pass the time.” Michael said, finishing with another sip from his glass.
“I appreciate the round. I can buy you a second, but this will have
to be my last.” I said out of respect of his gesture.
“It’s no problem. Never good to drink by yourself.” Michael
paused, contemplating while coddling his glass before him. We retained
our forward looking posture. Silence crept into the conversation as I began
to get lost in my thoughts as Michael was in his.
Michael finally blurted out “I’d like to ask you a personal question,
advice if you well. But to even it out, ask me something first.”
I turned and looked at Michael. He did not return my look. He
was thinking hard while focusing on his glass. I was hoping that he had
not just fallen off the wagon, making for an awkward night as he begins
the tailspin back into alcoholism and the uncouth self-pity that brings.
I looked back at my own and thought about the litany of thoughts I had
since I returned home.
“You see a lot of death? You seem to understand it?” I asked,
scared to know the answer.
“For far too long.” Michael responded, still focused on his glass.
“If I could ask death himself, I would ask—why are the good
ones taken? Why are the good people of this earth taken before they
have a chance to live?” It was the question I had wrestled with every day
since returning from Iraq.
“Well, I have seen death in the saddest of instances. The death of
a teenage daughter beloved by all, but cancer was untreatable. The death