Sleepless Wars
The day's cold as gunfire and explosions echo through the deepest souls on the battlefield where he lay. His muddy face and torn uniform give him hide against the muddy ground. He can hear the screams of hearts that are not ready to die, the beating of the soldiers around him are quick. His own heart beating to fast to measure, yet he pays no attention to that, his eyes are fixed on the flat war field where it's only hills are the corps of dead men. The sweat is glistening off his brow while he stares at the horrors of mankind's nature. It's not night yet it's dark, for there can be no light where so many tragedies occur. The air is cool and humid; fog has become to settle on the tips of lifeless bodies. His thoughts are interrupted from the near explosions of a bomb dropped from enemy planes overhead. He knows they'll hit there again and that he must moved. He rises himself with a grunt and crawls his way over behind another hill for shelter. His bones and muscles cracked and complained as he quickly moved through the blood-sullied ground. When getting there he realizes he is not alone, a long time friend, Stuart Lable. Stuart has been shot in the shoulder but pays little attention to it as he turns round to meet his intruder face to face.

"Andy?" he says with anticipation
"Ya, how are you holdin' up Stu?
"I'm okay, I wish this damned war would end so I can go home though."
"Don't we all, when were ya hit?"
"While ago, before the planes showed up."

Stuart suddenly looked as in great despair. His eyes watered, he tilted his head down and covered his mouth with his hand.

"What's wrong Stu?"
"Andy...If...If I die..."
Stuart cleared his throat giving Andy a turn to jump in.
"You're not, we're not gonna die out here, you hear me.
"I know Andy I know, but just in case, you know, can you give this to my wife back home?"

Stuart carefully lifted part of his jacket and reached in the pocket below his wounded arm and pulled out a paper. Andy knew right away what it was, a letter home, a final letter home. It was crumbled and stained with blood, mud and ink. Andy could see that just removing the letter from his tight pocket was proving difficult for Stu to do with only one good arm. So Andy leaned over closer to him, and without saying a word Stu put his arm down and graciously accepted his friends help. The sound of closing bombs and reluctant gunfire were amounted to unbearable noises. The heartbeats Andy had been hearing had just increased as well, his own, most noticeably, trying not to cause any further pain to a friend who clearly had had enough.

"Stuart, I will."

Were the last words he said to his long time friend, Stuart. A single bullet had managed to find them; it went through the mud pile they were leaning upon and straight in the back of Stuart's neck. Andy quickly removed the letter in case another bullet would discover him. After lying low for several minutes, carefully placing the stained letter into his own pocket, he decided to see the murderer of his dear friend.

As he rised to his feet, all went silent, the field was empty and no one was around. He stood puzzled for a moment until new sounds broke he cry of silence that had fallen upon the field. But these sounds did not fit the situation. He herd cries and silent chattered, as you would hear in a shopping mall, sounds of pushing cards and rustling boxes echoes in his perplexed ears. Then someone appeared on the field, just a single person amongst the field of nothing. But whom it was he could not believe, it was his wife. She was carrying brown paper bags with what appeared to bread sticking out of the two large bags. She had her back to him but he knew it could only be her. And climbed the hills over to where she stand, unknowing of the movement behind her. As he walked around her to see her face, he saw something. This was indeed his wife but she had aged immensely. When he left her at home she was only twenty-two years old. She didn't seem to notice him, and no matter what he said or ask she would nit acknowledge his presence. Frustrated and confused he began to cry. Raising his hands to his face to catch his sorrows and was horrified to see so many wrinkles upon his once youthful palms. He immediately began to feel his face looking for feelings to disprove what was so clearly labeled upon the palms of his aged hands. He found no such comforts. He face was more wrinkled then his hands. Somehow he has aged over fifty years in seconds. Turning back to his wife he perceived much fear in her eyes as she look, fixed upon one place on the field. He too, fixed upon that mark that her vision does dwell upon; he sees nothing to strike such deep fear into ones soul. He looks back at his wife with a puzzled look upon his old face, she takes in a quick gasps and a tear relieves it self from her eye and streams down her cheek. He looks back to the point, there's a man there now, he wears loose jeans, a striped shirt and a black sky mask over his face. Andy does not recognize any of these things and once again glances back at his wife. Who now has tears streaming down her face, racing for her chin it seems, this time she looks over at him. The tears ceased for a brief moment as she looked deep into his eyes. She had dropped the grocery bags and now clenches tight upon her stomach. The look of pain in her eyes grew as she looked into him, her lips trembled but he knew not what she wanted to say. He glances down to where she clasps her stomach so, red has stained her dress and no matter how hard she tries to hold it in, the red flows through her tight fingers. It's her blood, she falls to her knees, slowly, Andy looks back over at the man he saw. The man is lowering his smocking gun back to his pocket as he turns to flee. His wife, Mary lay dead at his feet, red blood still flowing, groceries spread all over what was once the field, but now is the floor of a mall. The heartbeats he once heard was now shot down to one, his own. As he looked up to see many faces staring in terror as the watch the red stream upon the floor. The heartbeats he heard were none. He collapses to the floor next to his wife who had been with him since returning from the war and long before. His eyes close and his mouth rests slightly open, the world has stopped and all is dark. A single tear, formed while glancing at his wife, has fallen from his eye as he hit the ground slowly and solemnly.

The dark is comforting, but this is not his final darkness. He opens his eyes to a sea of blurry objects and distorted voices. He moans and opens his eyes. He can barely see, the bed he's lying upon is very comfortable, soft, the room around him is very bright, he can't quite distinct the color but it hurts his eyes.

"Nurse? Nurse! I think he's coming around." He heard a familiar voice say. His vision was clearing up a bit and he could see a figure dressed all in white rush over to him.
"Is he going to be alright?" the voice asked again. He let go a sigh believing to be his wife. For a moment he was relieved that they were both okay.

"Mary? Mary?" He mumbled under his breath, only the voice understood what he said.

"No, no daddy." She paused and sniffed, he could tell from her voice that she had been crying.
"It's me daddy. It's Kelly. Moms...Moms...She's dead dad." Another sniff and strand of tears fell from her deep blue eyes.

Andy lied still, trying to process what happened. His thoughts were unfortunately interrupted by a large man in a uniform who entered the room, knocking over various objects along the way, which the nurse quickly picked up in a flurry of speed.

"Mr. Verne, I'm officer Hudson. You and your wife, Mary, were victims in a shopping mall robbery, she didn't make it, I'm sorry." He paused and waited for some response, but got none. He continued: "I've talked with other people who were there and they all say that the perpetrator was away from them, facing towards you. We would like...we need you to make a statement and talk with our police sketch artist, would you,"

Officer Hudson was cut off by the nurse
"Is this really the best time to be doing this, the man just woke up from a heart attack."
She stated ruddily with no respect as though she had dealed with situations like this many times. The officer, a little stunned, answered calmly:
"It is best to get these things while they are still fresh in the mind, but I suppose this can wait a few hours, but that's all." He said firmly trying to demonstrate his power and assurance; it didn't work at all on the nurse.

Andy just lied still listening carefully, regaining his vision and trying to recall the events that the policeman was speaking of. He decided to stop fighting staying awake to listen to this drama and he let himself fall back asleep. He knew when he would wake he would have to face some pretty harsh realities, and that the policeman would be waiting. While asleep Andy could hear his heart beating and his brain's repetitious questions but he saw nothing. Except for dark, black and emptiness that rested deep within himself. After a few hours that, to him, seemed mear seconds he awoke to find himself still in the nightmare labeled reality. His room was empty, his door was slightly cracked open and he could hear his son speaking with a man in a white coat, whom Andy assumed, was his doctor. He couldn't make out anything they were saying, so he raised the bed so he could sit up and he slowly leaned over in hopes that the few inches closer to them he acquired would allow him to hear there placid conversation. The movements in the room alerted them to Andy's consciouse presence. Their conversation halted immediately as they both, in sync, turned to look through the crack between the door and the wall.

His son, Steven, was a lawyer and a rather successful one if he remembered correctly. Steven had a wife, Stephanie, and three children, Josh, Bobby, and Sue. They were terrific grand kids but quiet a handful, as Steven often commented on their weekly phone calls. Steven looked rather upset, which is understandable, but it seemed as though he was more distraught over what the doctor was saying rather than anything else. This made Andy rather nervous, he still could not understand why he was in the hospital, he had a few ideas; perhaps he was shot, or fell and hit his head, but their weren't any bandages on him.

The doctor and Steven began to enter the room, but as the doctor pushed open the door Steven put his hand on the doctor's shoulder and asked very calmly and quietly:
"Would you mind if I told him, and you waited in the hall, please."
The doctor looked up at him and nodded and said something only Steven could hear, then walked out and closed the door behind him. Steven had watched him do this and then he turned around and looked back at Andy. He forced out a smile as he reached for a chair and pulled it close to Andy's bed.
"How are ya holdin' up pop?" he said rather cheerfully as not to let on that anything was out of place.
"I'm okay, I guess, but I have a feeling your answer to my condition might be more specific. So how long have I got." Andy replied playfully, with a little worry in the back of his throat and scary thoughts on his mind.
"Well,"he began in a calm voice. "The doctor says you had strong heart attack and will need to take a couple pills everyday." He paused and sighed, and Andy could tell that the worst was yet to come. "He also suggested, and I agree, that...uh...that you might be safer, from this happening again, if you were in a retirement/nursing home.
Steven stopped and looked up to see his father's reply, Steven had been talking to the floor the whole time. Andy was rather upset about this; he was only 73 years old and still very capable of taking care of himself. But Andy knew the doctor could place him there easily without his consent and probably was going to until Steven asked him to wait outside. Andy let a sigh fall and looked down, considering any alternatives.
He looked back up with pride in his voice about a seemingly perfect compromise.
"What about one of those in home nurses, wouldn't that be the same thing, that way I could stay at home and still look after myself with someone near by for help?"
"I've already looked in to those" Steven said hopelessly as if he expected the question.
"And?" Andy inquired.
"They're much too expensive."
"Oh." Andy said, loosing his enthusiasms.
Andy looked back down at his bed considering other possibilities but could think of none. Except of course about moving in with Steven or Kelly but he didn't want to further burden them, they were independent for a long time now and had families and other important responsibilities all their own. After all, Steven was soon turning fifty with new teenagers in the house, and Kelly was already forty-five with two kids and an ex husband. He knew he had very little choices to make in the matter.
"It'll be alright dad, the doctor and I have already found an excellent place for you while you were asleep, you'll even be able keep some of your furniture, whatever will fit in you room. Well it's actually more of a little apartment. There's a bathroom, a small kitchen,they don't really allow a stove but there is a small microwave"
Steven went on saying all the features this place had but it all meant the same to Andy. He was being kicked out of his home that he had lived in for over forty-two years. Andy finished his depressing thought in time to catch Steven's lasts few words.
"...and the rest of your furniture can be sold at auction, or anything you really want to keep and can't bring you can store at my or Kelly's house." Steven finished and awaited his father approval. He didn't get one, his father nodded but Steven could tell he wasn't really thrilled.
"Where is Kelly now?" asked Andy
"Uhh..I believe she had to pick her kids up from school, but she'll be back soon." Steven said trying to be reassuring. Andy knew he should try to say thank you, after all no one asked Steven to do all this, it must be hard on him to, loosing his mother. But Andy could barely stay focused, always thinking of his wife, whom he know lost, of his home, which he know lost as well along with his freedom.
"I know this must be hard on the two of you, it's hard for all of us...butthanks for everything you've done." Andy said, attempting to input a shadow of optimism in his voice. Steven fell for his father's false optimistic speech and pepped right up. He began to list some of the more luxurious features of Andys new prison which he wasn't at all interested in.
"So how goes business these days."Andy interrupted trying to change the subject.
"alright, no complaints. We're doing rather well as a matter a fact." "
That's good, very good," Andy said with false optimism once again.

A light knocking came ringing through the door as it opened slowly. It was Kelly, she still looked sad but a little better now seeing her father sitting up, talking with her brother.

Andy had a light; day old beard coming through now and he look very tired, as most people do lying on hospital beds. Just as Kelly gave a warm smile, the door opened again and gave her a little push forward.
"Oops, sorry about that Kelly." The nurse said. "Andy, it's lunch time, well actually you slept through lunch, so that would make this a sort of lunch-supper, so here's your lupper." She said cheerfully with a large grin upon her face as she swung Andy's little table around, that was attached to the bed, and placed his food upon it with care.
Andy looked relieved to be finally able to eat, but his face quickly drooped as the nurse walked out and he look on his tray. It was mashed potatoes with a gravy he could not determine, and peas, and a piece of meat that he couldn't tell its origin, nor did he want to. Kelly made note of his expression and walked towards him, leaned over his food and took a deep sniff. His expression was copied on her face as well. Then she looked up at her father and smirked as she pushed his food to the corner of his table. He was puzzled, but it became cleared when she pulled her arm from behind her back and placed a large take-out order of Burger King in the center of the table. For the first time that day, he smiled without false sincerity behind it.

"Thank You." He said as he opened up the bag and began displaying his food out amongst the table.
"You are very much welcomed." She said with another smile forming.

Steven showed a look of disapproval with his father's carelessness in regards to his current condition and the food he was about to digest. But he remained quiet knowing that his father, being as stubborn as he is, would not eat that slop the nurse brought, over a Whopper and fries and large coke. While Andy ate Kelly noticed the pamphlet for her father's nursing home.

"Revell Retirement Home eh?" Kelly said pretending never to have heard of it, she had. Steven called her for her thoughts on the idea; she was a little more reluctant but saw it was for the best.
"Yup, Steven told me any furniture I don’t take with me that I still want can go to you guys. Kelly I want to have your mother’s dishes and china hutch. Steven, since your son takes piano lessons I figured you could take that big piano with you and put it in the basement for him or something.”
“Sounds good to me.” Steven replied while Kelly simply nodded.

After Andy had finished eating, Kelly destroyed the evidence by stuffing the garbage neatly in her purse and pockets. Just then the nurse strolled in.
“You haven’t even touched your food? Is something the matter?” She said not really too concerned.
“No, I’m just not as hungry as I thought I was.” Andy quickly replied wiping the whopper sauce from under his chin and lips.
“Yeah, I know what you mean, I wish I had someone to bring me Burger King when I’m not as hungry as I think too.” She exclaimed sarcastically while grinning at the room.
Andy blushed just a little.
“Okay visitors, it’s time to go, your father has to get dressed to go home.”
Steven and Kelly rised to their feet said their good-byes and turned toward the door. Officer Hudson just walked in and caught the announcement and turned around with the others. But before doing so he stretches his head in the room and said:
“I guess I’ll catch you at then, okay Mr. Verne?”
Before Andy could answer his question, Steven broke in and replied for him.
“That would be fine officer, I’ve been meaning to talk about that with you. My father will be…”
They cleared the room and Andy could no longer hear Steven talking to the policeman. But he assumed that he was telling him the details of his move to the retirement home. After the room was empty, Andy swiveled his tray table from around the bed, swung himself around in the bed and slowly and carefully brought his feet to the floor. The floor was cold, surprisingly, he walked into the bathroom where his cloths were awaiting him all cleaned and folded. They were not the cloths he had been wearing yesterday but he put them on anyway. He figured that the cloths he had been wearing perhaps had blood on them and that Kelly bought these for him. Seeing how Steven couldn’t match any two colors if his life depended on it, his wife often chose his cloths for him. While sitting on the little rectangular bench in the bathroom while buttoning up his shirt he began to cry. This was the first he had cried for his wife. All the rest of the time he had been asleep or with someone. Andy always had trouble displaying strong emotions in front of people other than his wife. Closing the door with a trembling hand he locked it to be completely alone. After he locked the door he placed his head in his old hands and allowed his hands to collect his tears. The tears followed his wrinkles that appear when he tightly closes his hands, like a train that follows the tracks. After several minutes the nurse knocked upon the bathroom door.
“Is everything alright in there Mr. Verne.” She asked truly concerned
This was the first time he felt caring in her voice.
He replied slowly: “I’m fine…I’ll be out in a minute.”
He could tell she hesitate to ask another question before she left but decided better not to. Andy finished buttoning up his shirt and cleaned himself up in the mirror, not to let others know he had been crying. He swung open the door to see the nurse making his bed. Andy sat down to tie his shoes on the chair next to the bed and as the nurse walked out, she grinned at him as she walked out with his tray of cold food. He forced a smile back at her. After finishing to tie his shoes he walked out of the room, the hall lights were much brighter than his room’s. He looked around and saw Steven talking to the nurse behind the desk, signing various pieces of paper. Steven had just finished as his dad stepped out of the room. Steven stretches his arm towards the end of the hall in motion to get going. They didn’t speak as they walked outside to Steven’s Cherokee. They climbed inside and Steven turned the key and the car started quickly, as he did that the stereo turned on and blared out some song Andy had ever heard. Steven, as startled as Andy by the racket, turned of the radio in a flash. While pulling out of the hospital parking lot Steven sighed and said:

“Kelly is over at the house now, packing up some cloths for you, we can swing by if you want and you can take whatever can fit in the back tonight before we head over to Revell, it’s totally up to you.”
Andy had no desire to go back; too many thoughts of his wife would come rushing back through him. He did not want Steven to know that though.
“I’m sure whatever Kelly picks will be fine for tonight.” Andy said trying to be casual.

Steven just nodded and pretended that road was very interesting not knowing what to say next. The rest of the ride was very quiet until they reached their destination. Upon arrival the bright grass glistened off Steven's shiny car and the place seemed large enough. Andy was afraid that it might be too small and might have to share his roommate with someone else, Andy was really anti social. Steven pulled up in the large parking lot and found a space and turned off the key.
“We’re here.” Steven announced in a rather paintranizing manner, Andy was not offended he knew it was just Steven’s custom. In reply, all Steven got was a light shrug and a sigh. The both walked up the path empty handed; Steven had gotten out his pen and prepared it to sign more documents. As they entered they were greeted with a large smile from the receptionist mainly directed at Andy. Andy rolled his eyes in response. Steven took a step forward and declared their business and various other mumbo jumbo that Andy never paid attention to. Steven’s lengthily conversations often gave Andy time to inspect his surroundings. The room was actualy, surprisingly nice. Andy was expecting a bright yellow or blue as though they were in kindergarten. But all the walls were either deep blue, which Andy rather enjoyed, a rich red or some shade of purple. The walls were decorated with several amazing drawings, the signatures and dates allowed him to come to the conclusion that they were most likely the work of an artist in the home, one Maggie Stevenson. While Andy was trying to make sense of her signature into a name of some sort the receptionist surprised him from behind.
“Lovely painter isn’t she? Maggie Stevenson has been with us a long time and has created very many lovely drawings.”

“It’s very nice.” Andy said stiffly, trying not to let on to the fact that he was beginning to feel better about this place. Maggie’s painting was of a woman standing in a distant boat out in the middle of the sea as a heavy storm approached from far. The deep green-ish blue of the sea went very well against the wood framing and the blue wall. Andy was in no mood to be patronized as if a six-year by a receptionist with loud jewing gum. He just wanted to go to sleep. He was showed to his room and waved apathetically to his son to signal that he’ll be fine. Steven left seeing that has dad clearly was in no mood for socializing. The receptionist was a little trickier to shoo away. She began listing lunch hours and bed times and pill taking times and various other schedules that he cared nothing for. While she was talking he would take small steps closer to her pretending to be unable to understand or hear her clearly. Until she was outside of his door and in the hallway, at which point he stood up straight melted the interested look off of his face and slammed the door in front of her. She was about to motion forward to open the door thinking that there might have been some mistake when she heard the locking clicks of his door. She had the key however; all the staff did, in cases of emergency. She could tell he wished to be left alone and to adapt to his new surroundings alone, so she turned round and nearly knocked down one of Revell’s biggest gossips.

“Who’s the man moving in here today?” she asked with an awkward look stuck on her face.
“It’s Mr. Andy Verne, Mildred. This man has been a lot lately so you just leave him alone. Don’t go pestering him like you did to Mr. Smith down the hall now. You hear me?”

Mildred quickly turned around rather insulted at that remark and began walking toward the game room where the rest of the hens were circling new rumors and gossips.
Mildred was welcomed in the circle and began explaining the new situation of Andy.
Andy had heard the conversation through the door and became aggravated that some woman may be trying to chase him down for more rumors to giggle and judge with her friends. Andy was very private, even more so recently, and had little tolerance for the badgering questions of some old woman with nothing better to do.

Andy walked around the room, finding the basics. He was in no mood for a treasure hunt though, just wanted to know where the bathroom was should the need arise during his slumber. And closed the curtain and turned off all the lights making it near dark in his little apartment as Steven called it. The only light that shined through was that of the sunlight being filtered through his thin drapes placed across his windows. Andy tossed off a few of the dozen pillows that were laid out upon his bed leaving the only ones he deemed sleep worthy. He pulled the heavy comforters back to reveal his lovely little flower pattern on the inside of his sheets. Andy rolled his weary eyes and kneeled into bed. He pulled the blankets close to his gin and kicked out the blanket from under the mattress with his feet. Getting comfortable he realized he had no one to get comfortable with, and never would again, he missed the weight that was laid out next to him. He wanted his wife back. Andy shed a tear as he turned on his side as closed his eyes to dream what would hopefully be a quiet and undisturbed rest. All was dark as he awaited the cooling restfulness that comes with the relaxation of sleep. His eyes were closed tightly while the remaining water, not fit for tears, streamed out of his eyes and unto his soft pillow. He had mear moments of peaceful sleep until the night undertakes it’s chill of dark.

Andy was lying in a grave, with no walls and no corners. He was on field of battle where the cofenless bodies lay in the soil. He lay on back; eyes open to the falling of the sky. The rain was large and heavy and slow. The empty sky rests against the infinity of its size and remains a dark gray. Among the explosions, the planes, the screams and the beating rain Andy could hear the distant beats of those hearts that lay against the rain drenched soil. Andy moved his eyes to the horizon and then onto the ground where he lay. The explosions, gunfire and planes ceased, but the screaming of the hearts remains. Andy could see no cause for these screams nor any source. He rose to his feet wearily. Stumbling to get his balance, his eyes searched for the source. He looked to the sky in hopes of an answer but received none. Raising his eyes to wipe the rain from his face he was horrified. His face was now dripping blood not of his own. His hands boar the blood which seemed to seep through with no wound nor scar. Andy turned round and he saw a Mary kneeling before him with her back turned to him. Andy stood awaited her to turn round and meet his eyes who desperately wanted to visit hers. Mary only turned her head to see her husband, her hands clasping tightly upon her stomach. The tears wailed as they rolled from her eyes to her chin. Her hands and lips trembled as she turned from him to look at her seeping wound. Mary tried to look back once more but could not find the strength; she expelled her last breath as she hit the ground at his feet. The screams stopped as Andy raised his eyes to the horizon. Where he saw the man with the smoking barrel in his gun. Andy stared in terror awaited something he couldn’t know. An answer to why this has happened. Andy glanced back down at his wife where she lay curled in the mud. Her eyes were still and her breath was dead. The rain had ended but the storm had just begun. The lightning struck the hated ground and the thunder growled with the tyranny of a thousand kings. Demonstrating his unlimited power the thunder roared again and again. Andy raised his wrinkled hands to his face to catch the tears that had begun to flow. The tears mixed the bloody hands, the blood and the tears danced their way to the ground intertwined. A final blow of lightning and the tyrannical thunder awakened Andy from his mournful slumber.

Andy awoke in such a fright into his dark room. It was not yet morning as the moon filtered through Andy’s thin drapes. Andy sat up in bed gasping for air while regaining balance on reality. He looked about the room to assure himself the nightmare had ended. He saw nothing but the moon dancing joyfully upon the shine of his television, his doorknob and other various reflective objects laid out upon his dresser. Andy swiveled around in his bed and slowly placed his feet upon the ground. He slowly placed more weight upon his feet as he made his way to stand. He examined the floor once more to assure the safety of his route. Andy tiredly walked over to bathroom and flicked on the light. The shock of the fluorescent lights upon his eyes caused him squint as he walked over to the toilet. He was startled, only at first, but loudness of his toilet. Worried he might wake another room he quickly yet gently closed the toilet seat. He turned around to walk over to the sink. He leans upon the sink and splashes small amounts of water upon his face to revive himself from his previous dream. After dabbing his face with the towel he raised his head to view himself in the mirror. The reflection he saw was not of him. He examined the face staring back at him trying to make sense of what it was. This man had black hair, a couple day old beard and rather young face. The man in the mirror grinned at Andy as if he knew him; Andy was only further confused. Then it hit him like the pounding thunder in his dream; it was the man from the mall, the man who shot Mary. The man in the mirror took a step back while Andy analyzed him. The man raised his gun to the glass on the mirror, and fired. The thunder of the gun blasted louder than the boom of every thunder ever to ring through Andy’s ears.

“AH! Oh my lord,” Andy shouted awakening from his tormentors nightmare posing as reality. Andy lay half sitting gasping for all the air in the room. While he gasped for his life back he could hear the quick and heavy footsteps of someone in an awful hurry. The steps stopped once they reached in front of Andy’s door.
“Mr.Verne? Are you alright? Mr.Verne?” The voice echoed through the wood with worry in terror in it. Beyond the voice Andy could hear the fumbling of keys. The voice was going to enter. Taking one final gasp of oxygen and one hard swallow Andy straighten his bed sheets and rain his palm over his head to straighten his hair. He did not wish to rise any further concern by looking as though having another heart attack, so he tried to seem casual. Andy could now hear the metal of the key slide into the fitted metal counterpart. The voice entered and looked around the room and at Andy anticipating something.
“Are you alright?” The voice asked with more concern than fear now.
“Yes. Just a bad dream,” Andy said trying to be reassuring.
“Oh, Okay. Uh…it’s already nine forty-five and they stop serving breakfast at ten thirty so if you want something to eat you better hurry.” She said.
“Thank you, I will… Susan is it?” Asked Andy trying to read her nametag.
“Just Sue is fine, hurry up now.” Sue said turning around to leave. Before she left she flicked on the light in hopes that it would motivate Andy to wake up more and go eat. Soon as Andy could no longer hear her footsteps and got out of bed. He walked into the bathroom and kept the light off in fear of the mirror. He knew it was childish but he figured why do something you don’t really wan to? Andy got dressed and combed his hair over with the palm of his hair. He glanced over at the clock as he walked out of the room and it read ten-o-two. He found his way to the cafeteria and picked up a tray he saw at the end of the counter where the line would form. Being so late everyone was either eating or had eaten, which suited Andy just fine. After selecting some ham, eggs, hash browns and some toast he turned around and searched for a place to sit and eat, quietly. There were none empty tables. The closest he had to full solitude was a far table under a large window. There was only one woman sitting there gazing out the window with no food tray in sight. Andy walked over avoiding certain tables to attempt and steer clear of nosy occupants. Resting his tray down upon her table he looked up at her seeking her approval for him to sit there. She nodded politely and turned back to look out the window. As Andy organized his cutlery and examined his food laid before him he noticed that his food was not the only thing being examined. He found himself prey to the woman’s scrutiniss eyes. He glanced up to find the woman resting her head upon her two hands and gazing at him with fascination. Andy opened his mouth to ask if there was something she was looking for when she cut him off;
“Sorry, I’m Maggie. Maggie Stevenson.” She said with a smile as she stretched out her hand.
“I’m Andy Verne.” He said back to her with an apathetic handshake accompanied with his voice.
“I’ve seen your painting in the lobby, very nice.” Andy continued scooping his scrambled eggs up his fork.
“Thank you very much. I used to teach an art class. I’m only hear because the stairs at my house were becoming too much, and a couple other things. So how long were you on the waiting list for this place?”
“I’m not sure, my son took care of all of it.” He said while raising his eggs to his mouth.
“Took me seven and a half months” she proclaimed proudly.
Andy had just now realized that Steven must have been planning this for some time. He swallowed his eggs hard and increased his eating speed. Andy was sure his daughter would arrive soon with his clothes. He wanted to be ready, surely she must have known. How dare they, he thought. He could not wait for Kelly to show up so he could get angry at someone who, in his eyes, deserved it. Andy quickly finished and said goodbye to Maggie and puttered off to his room. Maggie held her hand over her mouth the hole time he was eating to keep from laughing at his hair standing straight up in the back.

Andy entered his room and turned on the light. He noticed that upon his short stay he had already managed to make a rather large mess of the place, which was no doubt what Susan was looking at when she came in. he made his bed and re-decorated it with the ridiculous number of pillows he found spread apart amongst the floor. As he did that he realized yet another revelation. It was awfully apparent that Kelly and Steven must have taken their time choosing this place, somewhere that he might like. He was still upset that they didn’t tell him but there no use in making a hard situation more difficult, especially for family. After he finished arranging the pillows in the pattern they had been upon his arrival he went over to the chair facing the television and turned it around to the window. He pulled open the thin drapes and admired his view from the chair. From his window he could the line of trees blocking view of the busy highway behind, the pavement one lane pathway from the highway to the parking lot. He could not see much of the lot but he could the corner and three or four empty spaces where Kelly would most likely park. He could see various men cutting the lawn as they most likely do several times a month. Then through the break in the trees forming a small corridor between the highway and Revell nursing home he saw a little car. It was Kelly’s little blue Honda picking up speed as it drove over the path. She did see her father watching from a window and proceeded to park her car where he figured she would.

She got out of the car trying to balance two large boxes while simultaneously closing the door. She succeeded and began to walk towards the entrance of the building. Andy could no longer see her. He could here light footsteps walk towards his door, a slight knock disturbed the silence in the room. Andy motioned for her entrance. She entered and tossed the two large boxes unto his bed and waited for him to say something. Kelly sighed at the relief to her arms and looked around the room. Andy stood up and gave her a hug, they separated and he said;
“Let’s go for a walk outside, it’s a nice sunny day. Fresh air will do us good.” Was what he said but what he was thinking was that there are more distractions he can focus on if an unwanted subject were to arise. Kelly agreed with a nod and another sigh. As they walked down the hall Andy nodded to the receptionist to make sure she saw and approved of them leaving. The receptionist nodded back and continued sorting papers behind her little booth. They exited the building and both took a deep breath of air, both being assured this would be perhaps a difficult conversation. They began their walk along the sidewall of the building where Andy’s window was. They both looked around trying to seem comfortable with the silence that had fallen between them. Kelly was the first to break the silence, she never could take awkward silences.
“So, how are you doing?” she said more relieved to have broken the silence than concerned for his answer.
“I’m doing good. My room is nice, the food is good and the people seem nice enough. How are you and the kids holding up?” Andy replied casually.
“Oh, I’m doing good…the kids are very sad but it will pass.”
Another short silence broke between them again. Andy figured it was his turn to interrupt the quiet this time.
“So, how long have I been on the waiting list for this place?” Andy said trying to make it seem that he had known all along.
“A little over six months,” Andy was surprised how quickly she answered. He expected a denial at first than a forfeit. Kelly continued:
“The reservation was originally for you and mom but…” she stopped and regretted to be the one to bring that subject.
“Yeah, I figured that. Are you bringing the kids tomorrow?” Andy was referring to the funeral but he still could not bring himself to say the word.
“Yes, they want to go. They would have come with me today but they’re in school.”
Andy was staring down upon the ground and Kelly was looking up at the peek of a tree. They had made their way along the path and were now heading back towards the parking lot.
“So what are your plans for the rest of today?” Kelly asked trying to lighten the mood.
“I’ll probably get to know the building, check out their game room and things like that. Just getting the lay of the land pretty much.”
“Sounds like fun, well I must be going. My lunch hour ends in fifteen minutes. I’ll see you tomorrow dad.” She said while bringing her ring of keys out of her pocket.
“Alright, thank you; for the boxes I mean. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.” Andy said as she turned her back to him and began the short walk over to her car. Andy slowly walked towards the entrance of the building and pulled open the heavy door. He nodded once more to the receptionist to be sure she acknowledge his return. Andy decided the first thing he would do would be to unpack those large boxes Kelly brought. He was a little nervous because he wasn’t sure what she had brought. He took the lighter one first and opened it and dumped it upon his bed. He spread the objects with his hand so he could examine the whole lot at once. This box was mostly cloths, a razor, toothbrush, a clock, and some CDs. the heavier box contained some books, and a couple photo albums. Andy did not want to go through the albums knowing they would bring back too many memories. Perhaps in a few days when things have settled down he would browse but not now. He pushed and scooped the objects back into the boxes and placed them in the corner of the room. Andy stood staring at nothing for a moment wondering what he should do now. He decided to go explore the grounds as he told Kelly. Just as he reached the door a knock rattled. He opened the door after the first knock and startled the knocker with his promptness. It was Maggie, standing in the hall with a big smile upon her face;
“I’ve come be your guide.” She explained
“Great, I could use one. I was about to go exploring on my own.”
“Oh you mustn’t do that. It’s a good thing I can along, old Mildred would have found you and never left you alone. She the gossip around here who must know everything there is to know.”
“So I’ve heard.” Replied Andy closing his door as they began to walk down the hall.
“You’ve already seen the cafeteria, so let’s check out the game room.” Maggie announced quickening her pace. They enter a large filled with people. There was a ping pong table, a t.v, an old pool table and various other tables line at the wall with puzzles, cards, scrabble and other board games.

After they had seen every room it was one o’clock and time for lunch. They made their way to the way to the cafeteria and eventually to the front of the line. Maggie got a little salad with her pork chop while Andy took some mashed potatoes. They both went and found the same seat they had shared this morning.
“So, I’ve told you why I’m here, why are you here?” Maggie asked while stabbing her salad with her fork.
“Heart problems” Andy replied carelessly.
“That’s too bad.” She said raising the fork to her lips.
The rest of their meal was completed in silence as they watched others come and go while eating. After they’re meal they decided to play a small game a scrabble while they digested their food. Andy’s words were often small and simple like; rose, door… Maggie’s on the other hand were generally long complex words she had to explain to Andy like; electroplating and deoxyribonucleic… Rather surprising vocabulary for an art teacher Andy thought. The two of them continued to play various other games while making little chit chat about their kids and grand kids until it eight thirty.
“Well, I believe this will be last hand of cards tonight, which is a good thing that it’s a good one then…” Maggie paused and looked up at Andy with a proud grin forming. Andy knew what she was going to say and through down his hand of cards as she announced;
“GIN!” she exclaimed while laughing to herself. She to her feet and congratulated her partner then turned around and left the room. Leaving Andy to clean up the cards and straighten up their chairs before he left. After he had done that he went to bed himself, although he wasn’t very tired. So Andy decided to explore his television channels. Steven had told him he had cable, which he did. Andy quickly scanned through all the channels and return to the only one that seemed interesting to him. It was a documentary on the life of Al Capone. Andy found it very fascinating but was unable to watch the whole thing. He turned it and his lights off at nine forty-five so he could get an early start in the morning for Steven was coming pick him up at ten o’clock for Mary’s funeral. Just after he turned off his lights and sighed came a raping at his door.
“Come in” he said expecting a nurse to give his pill. He was correct.
“It’s time for your second pill Mr.Verne” said Karen while handing him a small pill and glass of water. He took it quickly wanting to sleep. He handed her back the glass of water and she left. Andy’s doctor had placed on medication for his heart and told him to avoid to anything strenuous like running or eating fatty foods. Andy didn’t care for the second piece of advice much but the staff at Revell made sure he, and all their tenants, followed doctor’s orders to a “T”. As the nurse closed the door Andy rolled onto his side and reached down to the ground to pull up more pillow to place under his tired head. Andy pleaded with the night to allow this rest to sleep peacefully and to not invoke the sleepless wars that have been allowing him to bed recently. He closed his eyes in desperate attempt at sleep.

‘Twas no sooner than he closed his eyes that they were opened by the brutal echoes of the battlefield. He once again lay in a muddy trench as the tears fell from the sky and landed upon the unmarked graves of the corps’ who were once the proud men that walked and fell on this murderous soil. The sky was dark and wet, the sounds were loud and horrific, but as always the sounds of cooing hearts pounded in the back of his mind. The field were he lay is not empty, the bodies of men lay within it while others die upon it. The screams of pain and of fear overlap with the cries of gunfire and bombs.
Andy rises to his feet and runs behind the dug trenches to find safety. The man who cower next to him is unknown to Andy. They stare at one another in fear for a brief moment before an explosion separates their eyes to look yonder. Where the explosion had occurred only remains the lifeless bodies of the unfortunate souls who tread that place at that unlucky time. Andy had not ever seen these planes that he could so plainly hear nor the source of this gunfire that killed the men surrounding him. He wondered perhaps where they might be hiding. A faceless executioner rested on the other side on this field and flying overhead. So much death surrounding the few living. Slowly but surely the heartbeats that pound in the back of Andy’s mind were dying, to beat, to sleep never again. With explosion after explosion Andy soon, once again, found himself alone on the field of battle. He leans against a hill of mud behind a trench as he listened to the beating heart of the last living soldier, his own. Andy does not yet realize that his old wrinkled body lay safe in his bed at the Revell Nursing home. But if you can die in your sleep, or you ever really safe? Can you ever be safe from your own fears and tormentors thoughts and dreams? Andy dropped the rifle he had been carrying to the ground. He looked down at his hands which were cover in blood not of his won. His hands were old and wrinkled, the blood rested in the crevices of his old hands. He looked about but could see no one. Andy now realized where he was, he was dreaming, but whose blood rests upon these hands? The eyes begin to see only blur, his vision turns to black, he can still move and hear the heart. Soon he can no longer move, he’s waking up.

His sight immediately turned from dark to light. It was very bright, his eyes hurt as they squinted in consequence to light pouring in through the drapes that hang upon his window. He lies staring upon the ceiling that stares back at him, trying to build the strength to look over at the clock. It was eight o four and time to get up. Steven would be coming to get him at nine forty-five to go to Mary’s funeral. Andy got up and had a shower in his small tub with handrails all over the place. He got dressed in a suit that Kelly had brought over to him and combed his hair quickly in front of the mirror that this time showed his reflection. After he had breakfast with Maggie, he was returning to his room. When he saw Steven speaking with the receptionist to find where Andy might be. Andy walked in his room, turned off all the lights and locked the door and began walking towards Steven. Steven met him half way down the hall and continued to walk with him outside. Neither of them said anything until they were in the car, Steven was the first one to speak:
“The police caught the guy who robbed the mall yesterday. A neighboring store lent the cops some of their outside video camera tapes and were able to find him before he left town or whatever. His name was…” Andy cut him off quickly and harshly saying:
“I don’t want to his name, I don’t want to know anything about the man except that he’s in prison…. So where are the kids?”
“They’re going with their mother a bit.” Steven said a little upset.
The ride afterwards to the funeral home was very quiet. Steven pulled in and found a parking spot, turned off the key and he and Andy walked inside. They were greeted by a priest who would be saying the eulogy.
“We’ll begin the eulogy at ten thirty, the close family always has ten or fifteen minutes alone to grieve before we open the room to the others. If there is anything I can do just let me now. I am very sorry for your loss.” The priest seemed very sincere for someone who does this kind of thing everyday, thought Andy. They were shown to the room and Kelly was already they’re sobbing into a box of Kleenex. She looked up as they entered and began to cry again. Steven walked over to her and whispered something into her ear, they both left right after and closed the door behind them. They figured he would want some time alone.

Andy stood a few feet from the casket, he was never good at funerals, always made him very uncomfortable. He walked up a little closer to see his dead wife. Her beauty was limitless, even when dead her beauty rose from the crypt. She was beautiful there as she lay lifeless. Many flowers were placed amongst her coffin from other relatives. Andy could not bring himself to look much longer. He pulled a cloth from his pocket as he sat down on a chair against the wall. He wiped his eyes and tears from his old face as he looked up to the ceiling. The door slided open smoothly and Steven and Kelly re-entered the room. Steven stood far back, almost outside the door. He had inherit his father’s nervousness at funerals. Andy received a mournful hug from Kelly and a sad glance from Steven. The priest came in behind Steven and announced that it was time to open the doors and allow other family and friends to come in. Andy nodded in aggreance. The priest walked over to the dividing wall and pulled a few latches and the door slid open with ease. The other side of the room was filled with people and barely knew, he didn’t even know half of their names. He stood up while the priest was opening the door. Only a few people dare be the first to cross the barrier and pay their condolences. The rest the day for Andy was very repetitious, saying thank you quietly to those who came and spoke with him. The eulogy the priest gave was very lovely, often quoting the bible about heaven and afterlife and so on. By the end it was a little past two thirty and all Andy wanted to do was go home and be alone. Steven’s wife Stephanie left early with the children shortly after the eulogy. And one by one people began to depart, Steven and Andy were the last to leave. Not a single word was spoken between them on the ride back. Steven did not walk Andy inside as he had always done, they said their good-byes at the car. Steven walked in and nodded to the nurse as he passed, entered his room and fell down into his bed. He didn’t move nor fall asleep for twenty minutes. He just laid there and barely moved. After he made his bed and tidied up his room. He opened the long drapes and sat himself down upon a chair out the window. He was thinking about how his days would continue on now. Up until now he had things to do each day, but now he had no goals, nothing to wait for. He had no one to talk to. He sat repeating questions over and over in his head until it was time for supper. He ate with Maggie but didn’t say a word. She spoke to him about she had been doing all day and about a new painting she had begun. Andy could barely nod to her. After supper he immediately went to bed. But soon interrupted by the nurse giving him his heart medication and water, he took then went back to sleep.

His routine continue on for a week, sleeping early, staring out the window and he soon began eating in his room. Only coming out to get his food and drinks. He dreams continued on worse and worse. The nightmares did not count as rest therefor he would be tired all the time, but he fell asleep he would wake up in a trench. Andy days were seemingly becoming longer and longer. Andy began falling asleep several times a day only to awake to horrors. I have to sleep but I don’t get any rest when I do, he told himself as he closed his eyes to dream.

The day was cold as he lay in the mud. The sounds of war echoing in his dreams from long past memories. Men run about in desperate and frantic attempts to find a safer place to hide. The rain has begun and the storm wind follows. The wind blows in from the side while the thunder booms from the sky. Lightning scorches the blood-drenched soil. Andy rolls to his side and pushes himself up t his feet. But no sooner does he rise to his is he shot down by an enemy’s mighty bullet. The led arrow stabs him in the arm and spins him around into the ground. In a dream, pain should be felt, but Andy feels the pain of his wounded arm. His heart beat increases in response to his decreasing blood level. Andy decides to stay where he lies and allow death to come to him in the rain. Through the wind the hearts beat many. His tears are blown away from the harsh wind and hidden inside the deep rain. He closes his eyes to escape the pain but awakes not on the battlefield nor in his bed at Revell. He awakes to find himself in his own bed, in his own house. The bed is not how he remembers it, the bed is dusty, empty and depressing. He rises from this false memory and walks down his long case of stairs. They to are too old and decreped. The cracks and creaks from the complaining stairs scream silent horrors down the hall. Once he reaches the bottom he looks about in hopes of finding something to lead the way. There’s light coming through a room on his right, it was his living room. Andy turns the corner slowly in fear of what he may behold. In the room he sees the sunlight seeping through the old windows and dancing upon the keys of his piano. A woman stands looking out the window, he steps forward in disbelief. A floorboard under his heavy feet cry out a warning to the woman. She turns to see her husband entering the room. She smiles, as brightly as a thousand sun rises.
“Andy!?” she cries. Her smile is banished from her face when she sees the tears that are falling from her husband’s cheek. He looks up at her and with a trembling voice whispers:
“I’m dreaming, you’re not real.” And said sadly. Mary’s smile grew back as she took another step towards him.
“You are not.” She said plainly looking into his eyes. After she whispered that the room was new, the light poured in, the dust vanished and Mary was young. Her beauty could cast a shadow over the brightest sun and limit the infinity of time. A final tear glistened its way off of Andy’s cheek. Andy raised his hand to clear his face. His palm did not feel the cracks and roughness expected, his face was smooth. He looked down at his hands and they were young, as he was. He was young, with his wife in their home unchanged from their days of love. They could go anywhere and do anything, together. He was in heaven. A boundless, wonderful dream. The heartbeats that cooed and pounded in the wind had gone. The sound of all hearts had stopped. The heart that always persisted in his nightmares, the heart beats were none. Their love was all.