The Roy’s:The Final Episode
May 4th, 2008
The Final Episode
The girl and I had been in the cities for several months now, and life had been grand as far as this twenty-two year old was concerned. This may sound kind of silly, but the happiest day I ever remember having with ‘the girl’ revolved around nothing more than your everyday pack of hotdogs. It was a beautiful day at the beginning of September. The kind of where the sun is shining so brightly that everything around it, no matter how worn, seems to come back to life enriched somehow by the magnificence overhead. It was the kind of day that makes me very, very happy.
I don’t remember where I was coming from but I was walking down SE 7th to a little corner market that was right next to my house. I wish I could remember the name of the place because it was quite legendary in its own right. I specifically was headed there to pick of some hotdogs as they were to be the main feature on my planned lunchtime menu. As I got about a half of a block away, out the door of the corner store pops ‘the girl’ with a bag in hand, containing what else but the same hotdogs I had been craving. She had almost read my mind, although most likely not, as ‘the girl’ had a great affection for hotdogs as well. However, seeing her come out that store, there to surprise yours truly, struck me as utterly amazing. I know it sounds like such a simple thing, but to me it symbolized something far greater, a connection, a bond, a sense of unity. This unexpected appearance by ‘the girl’ that day is the fondest memory of this young female that I have. It was perfect.
So, life continued quietly, I with my opportunity filled world of pizza delivery and ‘the girl’ with hers at the University of Minnesota. Life with Roy continued as well. He was such a spunky little guy and by this point had become quite a good friend of mine. Since he stayed in my apartment I got the privilege of spending the most time with Roy as he grew from a kitten into a young adult. As everyone knows the great thing about animals is their unconditional love.
Roy was no different.
I had started to feel a little bit bad for Roy, as both ‘the girl’ and I were spending a lot of time away from the apartment, immersed in the burdens that life demanded. A lady I knew at work bred cats and her labor had just produced a fresh batch of puffy black and white kittens. I had previously staked a claim to one of them and affectionately had named him Ron. It had been a well kept secret to both Roy and ‘the girl’ as well.
The day Ron came into my life I had picked him up from work, strategically placing him in a tiny box, and somehow managing to get him home on the city bus as quietly as possible. I absolutely couldn’t contain my excitement. The girl had planned to meet me there for dinner and I was anxious to greet her. I would have Ron in hand and looked forward to the beauty of bonding that occurs with any infant of any species. After what seemed to be an eternity I finally made it home. Proudly, I walked through the door and in a moment of delight proudly displayed the tiny black ball of Ron to the tiny girl.
“You have to get rid of him,” garbled the girl.
“Why,” as a look of shock started to spread over my face?
“I’m pregnant.”
I honestly can’t tell you what transpired after that. It was a tear filled ‘what we are we going to do’ kind of moment (I think). It was such a flash of shock for me that the entire evening is a complete blank in my head. You would expect some kind of delicate emotional coddling had taken place at this point. However, throughout this entire drama, the only thing I can tell you that we discussed is one single thing.
Get rid of the kitten Ron …
… immediately.
You all should know by the past thirteen thousand words of this story that I am obviously not any kind of baby doctor. But, ‘the girl’ was convinced that this new kitten was going to kill the baby. Now, I know that Toxoplasmosis and other harmful organisms can be a danger to unborn fetuses, but as far as I have been told, simple hygiene and care have been sufficient for years.
The girl didn’t really give a rat’s ass.
Ron was to go without delay.
I put it off for two days, in which ‘the girl’ refused to even come over. I don’t know what she expected, I didn’t have anywhere to take Ron and she knew it. I couldn’t find anyone who wanted a kitten, I didn’t have transportation, and I didn’t want to take him to the pound. To add to the craziness that was, Roy was being allowed to stay. In some delusional realm of stupidity it was somehow determined by ‘the girl’ that Roy, now her cat, did not pose nearly the same health risk as Ron, now deemed my kitten. She absolutely and completely put her foot down. If she was going to remain in the equation the kitten was to go.
I loved her.
I left Ron on a sunny park bench downtown the next morning.
I never saw him again.
I have hurt a lot of people emotionally in my life. Until that day and since that day I have never hurt anything physically. I have never been in a fight, I don’t discipline my pets with force, for Christ sakes I don’t even like to step on bugs. If you ask anyone who knows me, they will tell you the exact same thing. I find it hard to even keep a fish when I’m on the water. Leaving that cat there was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. To this date, it is the only time I may have purposely caused physical harm to any species deemed to have a level of higher thinking. It is also the first time I have ever told anyone, including ‘the girl’. Although I never will know, as far as I am concerned I caused that kittens death. I try to tell myself that someone picked him up and he lived a long and happy life. The truth of the matter is he probably never made it through the fall. I still cannot forgive myself for that day. I re-live it every time I look at my now three cats and dog. I still cannot forgive ‘the girl’ either. In all of her morality she failed. She forced my hand and I wasn’t man enough to take off the rose colored glasses.
I don’t care if it was just a cat.
We both should be ashamed.
From the day ‘the girl’ told me she was pregnant, she never looked at me the same again. I was no longer Alex the talented boy from high school with the cool friends and the bright future. I was now just Alex, the pot smoking pizza delivery guy, and future father of her child.
Not good enough for ‘the girl’.
Within a matter of days, the call to ‘the girls’ parents had been made and it was swiftly decided that ‘the girl’ would leave school and return to Wausau with her family. This plan in no way shape or form was to include me. This arrangement however, was to include Roy who would be removed from my premises and transferred back to central Wisconsin along with ‘the girl’.
It has taken me almost thirty pages to get to this point, but the next few paragraphs are the driving force behind this entire tail.
It was the moment of change.
I did get one final night with Roy. When it had been decided that ‘the girl’ would leave the next day, I was eventually left with one chance to say goodbye to my faithful feline. I was a complete wreck the entire evening. Roy had always loved ‘people’ food and I hadn’t ever been one to deny him much of anything. That night I went to a local restaurant and picked up a large feast of fowl complete with all of the fixings. I had crispy and regular, potatoes, biscuits, gravy, and pretty much all the usual suspects you would expect to find in a proper fried chicken dinner.
I set the table for two that night.
I had a large plate and silverware for myself, and a little plate and cup for Roy. We both had glasses of milk, and proportionally of course, commenced to feast. I with my large plate of food and Roy with his plate, carefully arranged in bite sized pieces. He sat on the table right next to me and licked his plate clean. I don’t know if he had ever been happier. We slept together one final time on the couch that evening.
The girl would leave the next morning.
“Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”
I never saw Roy again.
I have never been the same since.
I tried to maintain myself for awhile. But as the months wore on I just completely lost touch with reality. It was abundantly apparent that ‘the girl’ and her ‘absolutely wonderful’ family wanted nothing to do with me and I really didn’t do anything to change their mind. I was completely hurt, equally as bitter, and my self esteem was non-existent. I would spend the next few months couch hopping, stealing from my friends, and avoiding any contact with ‘the girl’ or the situation whatsoever. I imagine that those months of pregnancy were hard on her. I am sure this was not the way she had planned her life to turn out either. At the same time, I was so angry that I really didn’t care. Truth be told, I didn’t make a single attempt to redeem myself either. I had no money, I had no ambition, and I had no desire to be ridiculed. I tried briefly to turn things around by admitting myself into a drug treatment halfway house in what was in reality a half assed attempt to make people feel sorry for me. Although I had been a career stoner, on the whole I was opposed to most other chemicals and neither myself or the treatment facility really ever considered me to be a hopeless addict. Instead I was considered to be ‘at that age’, and labeled grandiose which I suppose wasn’t too far off. I was a product of the self esteem movement, bred to be better than everyone else. The problem with that is when you find out your not, it is a hard pill to swallow.
I remember getting the call the day the baby was born. I was not allowed at the hospital. What they ever imagined I was going to do is still beyond me, but they had thought it best that I shouldn’t be present.
I went anyway.
I was met in the lobby by ‘the girl’s” mother and a security guard. Someone had tipped them off that I was coming, and they decided that the lobby was as far as I could go. The baby boy had been born healthy. The girls’ mother had a single photograph to give me. She told me to come back another day.
That was May 4th, 1994 …
… fourteen years ago, almost to the hour.
Happy Birthday.
(To Be Continued)
bozz_2006 said:
Thanks for sharing that Alex. We have lived different lives, but since we began typing to one another, I feel like we’ve formed a relationship, and I’m proud to call you my friend. Throughout your story, I haven’t shared in your experiences other than to revel in the highs and wallow in the lows. But today, convergent points emerged, to some degree at least. I’m glad we got to talking when we did. I hope this has been therapeutic for you. It has been for me. I’m looking forward to the continuation of the story.
May 4th, 2008 at 9:17 pm #
Alex said:
I am proud to call you one as well Bozz.
May 5th, 2008 at 8:01 am #
pack93z said:
I am a loss for the right words that I want to use, but I wanted to say thanks for sharing your story to this point and looking forward to reading more in Glass Boxes.
I want to say more, but unsure of where the story goes from here.. so I will withhold additional comments until a later date.
May 5th, 2008 at 2:19 pm #
Alex said:
Thanks Pack - I appreciate having you around.
May 5th, 2008 at 2:25 pm #