Remember The Roots

Mr. Zimmer didn’t want his last Halloween to end like this, alone in a dark cold room, an invalid while children and parents alike roamed the streets outside asking for candy and dressed in costumes. He remembered when he was young and fit, and when he hadn’t shattered his spine by falling off a roof setting up spooky decorations. At his old age, and with what little money his family possessed, it was easier for everyone to toss him into a nursing home. Easier for everyone except Mr. Zimmer himself. It scared him how easily they became frustrated and annoyed by him, a constant factor in their lives that suddenly turned into a burden, just like that.

When he was a child, every day in the month of October promised adventure. He’d go to school and discuss plans and ideas on what they’d do together on the 31st, and they’d ignore the stiffs that would try and get them to sign cards that made them promise not to cause trouble. A free ticket to the theater to any movie they’d like was tempting, especially in the days before TV. But not pulling any tricks on Halloween? It was downright sacrilege.

Halloween was the one time a year a kid or teen or adult could let go, put on a mask and be somebody or something else for the night. It reminded him of masquerade balls his great grandmother told him stories of attending, he never imagined he’d live to be older than her. but here he was, ninety-nine, and his mind was still as sharp as a razor, even if his body had long since broken down, maybe it was some sort of cosmic trade off.

He stared at the clock on the wall as it ticked, he couldn’t tell anyone how he knew it, but once midnight struck, his time would be up. It’s not that he liked the thought of dying, it’s just that life seemed a lot bleaker. What was there for him after this night? More days of sponge baths and tapioca and dull birthdays thrown by apathetic nurses and doctors. Maybe if he died, he could become a ghost and haunt the nursing home for the rest of his days, he’d return every Halloween and throw the type of parties he used to when he was among the living.

Of all the times and nights, he’d want to die on Halloween, it just felt perfect, like it was meant to be, the idea made absolute sense to him. Still, he wished someone was there with him. Then, like a higher power answered his prayers, he heard a knock on his door.

He wanted to smack himself as he instinctively waited for the person to say trick or treat, what a fool he was, he’d have to open the door first for them to do that, and he was in no shape to do so. Using his withered arms, it took all his remaining strength to prop himself up into a sitting position. His mouth and throat were dry, and it was uncomfortable to speak.

“Come in.” he called, his voice weak and raspy.

The doorknob jiggled and in entered a strange young man, he wore a dark brown blazer, jeans, boots, and a white undershirt. Everything else was appropriate for the modern day except for the blazer, but Mr. Zimmer had heard how some young people go for a look they called “retro”, he had no idea what retro meant exactly or where it came from, but he figured this man must have been one of those youths obsessed and deeply entrenched in the retro subculture.

He approached the bed, his face pallid and strange. It wasn’t that he didn’t look normal or like a person you’d pass on the street, it was almost too smooth, too perfect. No real wrinkles or blemishes to speak of in even the tiniest amount. It was like eyebrows, people never noticed imperfections that small, but when they were absent, it stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Are you Jonas Smith?” The strange young man asked pointedly.

Mr. Zimmer slowly shook his head and coughed, “Nope, sorry, you missed ‘em.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jonas died last year. Choked on a chicken bone. King of miserable bastards he was, you aren’t his grandson or something? Are you?” Mr. Zimmer asked, now hoping that he hadn’t accidentally offended the strange young man.

“He was a relative of mine.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You were right, he was the king of bastards.” He said.

“Are you alright son?”

“What?”

“Are you alright? People don’t normally say that about family.”

“He was no family of mine, not really. Blood only.”

Mr. Zimmer saw a darkness in him, the young man’s eyes were cracked, like somebody had shot a bullet through a tough window. The older man was taken aback by this, he gripped the hem of his blanket and pulled it higher, and then he glanced over at the pitcher of water and the lonesome cup that sat beside it on his nightstand.

“Would you be so kind as to pour me a glass?”

The strange young man did so and handed Mr. Zimmer a full glass. It was like the water had come straight from heaven as it flowed down his throat and sated his growing thirst.

“Thank you.” Mr. Zimmer said.

“It was the least I could do for disturbing you.”

“You only came here to look for your relative?”

Mr. Zimmer was worried that if he didn’t keep him engaged, didn’t keep asking questions, he’d get board and leave, or maybe do something else. He didn’t like being alone with him in the darkness, so he motioned for him to flick on the lamp nearby, which he did.

The room wasn’t anything to gawk at, a window that gave the old man a view of the street, a carpet, and paintings and photos of scenic landscapes. He had badgered the nurses to put up decorations for Halloween, but all he got were a few sticker witches and jack-o-lanterns for him to place like he was a damn toddler.

“Yes.” The strange young man said.

“What then?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t really have a plan for what I’d do after I was done.”

“Done with what?”

“Finding my family.”

“They must mean a lot to you.”

“Yes, they do.”

Mr. Zimmer couldn’t deny having heard the bitterness layered under the man’s words whenever the topic crept close to them, it’d be there for a split second and then gone in an instant. But raising children and grandchildren and even being a teacher’s aide at one point, gave him the skills necessary to really get a feeling from the people he interacted with, even the anti-social ones.

“You’re all alone.” Mr. Zimmer stated.

“I am. There isn’t anything left for me now.”

“I don’t mean to preach son, but there’s little future with an attitude like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be over yet. You’re still young, go to the beach, walk in the park, meet a girl, eat ice cream with her. You’ll find a future for you in the oddest place”

“Do you have family?” The young man asked.

“I do, and I bet you’re wondering why aren’t they with me. I’m afraid I’m a lot like the world, too old and something people don’t like facing.”

“I won’t say I like you; I just met you, but you aren’t the worst person I’ve talked to.”

“That’s kind of you to say.”

“When compassion is in short supply, even a love tap can feel generous.”

Before Mr. Zimmer knew it, the strange young man had pulled up a chair and sat down. Whenever he was thirsty, the man would pour him another glass, and they’d continue talking. It was the most Mr. Zimmer had spoken to someone in days, weeks, months, even years, it was addictive.

“Do you like Halloween?” Mr. Zimmer asked.

“A little bit,” The young man paused, “I was born today.”

“Your birthday is on Halloween?”

“More like a rebirth, but birthday fits too.”

“I wish my birthday was on Halloween,” If Mr. Zimmer had the power, he would have raised his fist to playfully sock the young man in the arm, but, he couldn’t, so he hoped the amazement he was showing on his face was conveyed properly instead, “A dream come true.”

“It’s got more bad memories then good for me.” The young man said.

“If it’s old drama you’ve never gotten the chance to get off your chest, I’m not long.”

“It’s not as if it’s particularly hard for me to talk about, I’ve grown numb to it. It’s just a really, really, long story. I had a brother once upon a time, he’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, I lost my siblings too over the years.”

Although, from how the young man sounded, it wasn’t from natural causes.

“My advice is don’t try and get over it, the more you try, the more it’ll hurt.” Mr. Zimmer said.

“Then what do I do?”

“Make peace with it. Accept that those feelings are going to be with you until it’s your turn. Take time to be depressed or sad about it, it’ll feel bad in the moment, but you’ll feel better later.”

“My family never liked me and my brother very much,” The young man interjected, going back to his story and making Mr. Zimmer uncertain if he took his words to heart, “So, when we were little, they sold us away. At first, I was scared, but I got used to it. Met new people there, and there was one, a girl, she promised she’d always love me. Then she left me, and now I’m here.”

“How did your brother die?” Mr. Zimmer asked.

“Bullet to the head, probably didn’t even feel or hear the bang. Didn’t feel the wetness.”

“This girl, the one you mentioned, is she still alive?”

“I don’t know, maybe. But I wouldn’t know where to look.”

“Maybe your future should be finding her?”

“She never cared about me. It was all just lies; everything is a lie. Sometimes I see people breaking their backs for their family, for their wives and children, and I just want to tell them and show them the truth. That society doesn’t love them, that it’s empty, meaningless.”

“You’ve had a bad time on Earth, right?” Mr. Zimmer asked.

“Not just Earth. I’m content, even happy not contributing to it.”

“To the world.”

“To the world and the short, brutish, snobs that live on it. No one can be trusted, not even yourself, sooner or later, they’d find something better. stronger, faster, taller, not a freak.”

“You aren’t a freak son; you look as normal as a tree or the sky.” Mr. Zimmer said.

Save for his eyes, but the old man had convinced himself his mind was playing tricks on him.

“I didn’t always look like this sir, that’s why I said Halloween has good memories too. It was the one day in the year when me and my brother didn’t need costumes to be taken outside. It’d make me laugh if I could, the night for costumes, and I’ve never worn a single one on it.”

“You loved your brother?”

“Of course I did, he was the purest thing I’ve ever known. I hear his voice sometimes.”

“He existed in the world, the universe created him, and it created you. Now, I won’t claim to understand you, or that I somehow know what you’ve been through, but the path your walking, it gets longer and longer the more you try and rush to the end of it.”

“What?”

“Life can be wonderful, but you’ve got to stop to take time and smell the roses,” Mr. Zimmer laughed, “Take some time to do things that make you happy.”

“What I like isn’t normal.”

“Does it hurt anyone?”

The young man shook his head.

“Does it hurt yourself?”

He shook his head again.

“Then I don’t see the problem with it, as long as you keep it to yourself. There’s a time and a place for everything, and soon enough, you’ll find the moment where it feels right to talk about it.”

“How can you be so sure, about everything?” he asked.

“There’s a difference between sure and confident. In order to let good things happen, you have to allow them to happen. Sulking in the shadows all night long and mumbling about how you hate your life? That’s inviting bad things son, and that’s no good.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“I’m dying, that’s one of the worst things a person can go through.”

“You are…?”

It was the first time Mr. Zimmer heard the young man’s composure break; his voice was flooded with an emotion that sounded downright foreign to Mr. Zimmer from how he said it. It took him a couple seconds to realize that it was sorrow mixed with surprise.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed or worried about, it happens to the best of us, and the worst, and those right in the middle too. Its natural, for death, and for unpleasant things to happen. It makes us more resilient, our souls brighter and filled with color.”

“I don’t…”

“Lemme put it like this. Your family, they abused you, didn’t they?”

He nodded.

“I bet they’d beat you, pull your hair, kick you around, call you names, the whole kitchen cabinet.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” The young man said.

“That’s why I loved Halloween so much as a kid, it was the one night of the year I could get away from them, from it all. I could egg a house, light someone’s trash on fire, and I wouldn’t wake up the next morning with a bloody nose or my dad screaming his lungs out at me.”

“I guess we’re more similar then I thought.”

“Nah, you’re young, I’m old, that’s the major difference. But do you know what I did to get back at them all? Something that drove them absolutely crazy?”

“What?”

“I swore I’d be the nicest guy in the world. I’d wash the dishes, take out the trash, clean the windows, everything to make their lives better. Because people who hate themselves and the world, goodness is nothing but a distraction, a bump on the head or terrible rash. I let goodness be my world, and I lived a pretty good life up until this point. What I’m getting at son, is, don’t let all of the good things that are in your life become nothing but distractions.”

“I, I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything and take my hand.”

The young man took his hand and waited; he waited all night. When the hospital staff discovered Mr. Zimmer’s body in the morning, his arms were folded on his chest, his eyes closed, and a peaceful smile was on his lips. Alex Mordecai Zimmer may have lived an unimportant life, but he would never know the true impact of the conversation he had on Halloween night in 2008

That single heart-to-heart would singlehandedly set in motion a series of events that would end up saving the world, and all of the fantastic creatures who lived on it. But those are stories for future Halloweens.