Page 45 of Shape Of My Heart
Chapter11
Josh drove to Bruce’s.It was a sports bar where he and his friends hung out a lot. Especially after a game. They always had what he wanted and the women who worked here werealwayshot.
He grabbed a few beers and stayed there for awhile shooting pool and watching baseball on the overhead TV. He did every and anything he could to take his mind off the day,andAmy.
When he got bored he went to the supermarket, grabbed a case of beer and some wine, then headed out to Dead Man’s Gorge, so called for the jagged, sharp, rock formations that led into a deep chasm. Either jumping off or driving over would result in sure death. Not many came back. Especially the ones that planned itthatway.
Josh knew a guy once that jumped. He lived two houses down from him and worked as an insurance broker. He was made redundant after his company went through a bad spell. The poor guy was unable to bounce back. Burdened with substantial debts and the damage losing his job caused his family, he thought that death was the only answer. Josh remembered how his family suffered. At the time he’d wondered how the man could have been so selfish as to take his own life and leave his family behind with no one to care for them. What he never thought of was how the man musthavefelt.
Josh never thought of how doomed the man must have felt for death to be his only answer. He understooditnow.
Understood it all. It was that doomed, damning feeling that gripped you and made you feel like there was no way to escape it. Josh was getting tired of it. Tired of waking up every day and blaming himself. Tired of feelingguilty.
He’d been parked up in his Range Rover about a few feet away from the edge of the gorge for about an hour now, downing moredrinks.
Normally he followed Bruce’s with a visit to Roam Me, his favoritestripclub.
But he couldn’t today. Not only did he want to be alone, but something happened to him when he kissed Amy and he felt that if he was ever going to please himself with a woman it had to be her. That would never happen after the way he treated her thismorning.
He was disgusted with himself for the way he spoke to her. Thoroughly disgusted. He was still drunk from the night before and all he knew was anger. All he knew was he’d wanted more beer, and when he discovered what she did he was so furious he couldn’t think. Josh wanted to shake her for caring, to knock some sense into her so she could see that he didn’t want anyone to care for him. He didn’t care about anything and anyone so she shouldn’t waste her timeonhim.
Now he was here. At the precipice of the gorge that signaled the end for a lot ofpeople.
The depressed, who had no more to give, and those who couldn’t bear anymore pain. He fit both categories. He was depressed and he didn’t have the strength to make any more attempts at fixing his life. The pain from the grief was too much for him now and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposedtodo.
So…whatnow?
Josh rested his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. He steadied his ragged breathing and allowed his mind to drift. It seemed to drift forever and into a hole of bottomless nothingness. Down, down deep he went trying to get to the bottom ofhismind.
As his mind steadied, the image of his family home in San Francisco came forward. It felt like someone was playing a memory from one of those old-style projectors people used to play their familyvideoson.
He saw himself as a very young child running across the lawn with a football. His dad was chasing him. His mother was laughing and so was hissister.
“Throw me the ball, son,” his dadcalledout.
Josh threw the ball and his father caught it, but as Josh looked back his father looked older, the way he did now. And Josh was no longer a child. He was a man playing as a professional withhisteam.
In every game he played he always, always looked to where his family sat. The proud looks on their faces would always give him that strength he needed to do his best and more. To be the best at what he did and give him the edge no oneelsehad.
The pride for him would literally glow on their faces. Every time, every game, no matter how old he got or how many games he played. He played for them, all of them. He played to make themproud.
He knew without question that they loved him and alwayswould.
Everything shifted in his mind again but this time it was as if he was running through scenes of his life, memories of his mother and Clarissa. Memories of his happyfamily.
When the scenery settled he was in the living room of his family’s house. His mother and Clarissa stood by the grand piano sorting through some clothes they were boxing up forcharity.
“I can’t believe you got Primrose to part with this bag,” Clarissa said, holding up a bag with the Gucci logo printed all over it. She and their motherlaughed.
“I havemyways.”
Josh rushed up to them, hoping this was real and it wasn’t just something created byhismind.
“Mom.” He pulled his mother in forahug.
“Josh, what are you doing here? You have a big gametomorrow.”
“Yes, we wouldn’t want to suffer the wrath of a tired Mancini Machine,” Clarissa teased, poking him in the stomach. “Hey, do I feel fat?” She continued to poke hisstomach.
