A Walk

I walk. Literally and figuratively this keeps me from my aunt’s concerns. On the down side, it lets me think and I don’t really need to do much more of that. I’m trying to NOT think. Perhaps if I could think about something else, anything else for more than a few seconds it would help. I just can’t get past the everything.

The lawsuits are finally behind me but what a draining experience. Defending my actions while trying to rebuild my department at the same time was just miserable. Even once the criminal case was complete, the waiting for the civil case to be over and done with just ate at me.

And once that was finally over and done with, once there was a light at the end of the tunnel that didn’t seem like a train, then there was New York.

But I’m trying to not think of New York. But I can’t not think of New York.

Crap.

I'm...falling...I'm...

It’s the falling I hate the most.  The lack of control, the feeling of helplessness, and, most of all, the crash at the end. And there it is.

I pop to my feet and brush myself off. Where am I? Oh. Of course. Why did I bother to even wonder. I’m always here. Rubble. A half collapsed building. New York.

Sound thuds loudly around me. I am soaking in it like a bath. I try to run but the sound is so thick I can’t make progress through it. I move in slow motion, desperate to get to the other side of the wall. If I could just get there maybe this time it will be different. Why can’t I move? I have to move! Please let me move!

I awaken suddenly, my heartbeat pounding loudly in my ears. I gasped for air before slumping back into the bed.

My aunt bursts into my room, concern displayed all over her face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” It’s not a lie. I had a dream. I’ll live. Unfortunately.

“Same dream?”

I might as well be honest. “Yes.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Patrick. Is there anything I can do?”

“No. There’s nothing anybody can do. Thank you for asking.”

She nodded, looking sad and concerned as she does so. “I hope you can fall back to sleep.”

“Thank you.” Then she leaves me be.

I hope I can fall back to sleep as well. Even the whiskey doesn’t stop the dream, stop me from going back there. That place where I went to hell.

What else is there?

No wonder she was keen to get me doing ‘something’. The sun’s out. The sky is blue. The air is warm and clear. It’s a beautiful day.

I wish I were dead.

Perhaps that’s overstating it a little. It’s not like I’m considering doing myself harm, apart from my liver of course. It’s not that I really want to be dead and take my chances with whatever is next. I’ve never seen any reason why there should be an afterlife. Why should people need an incentive to be nice to each other? Because people tend to be selfish, that’s why. Even when we try to look out for each other, there’s always that side of you that’s worried about what you’ll get out of it, the good feeling you get for doing ‘what’s right’.

That good feeling can fade. Quickly.

I slug down some whiskey, trying to enjoy the burn as it travels to my stomach, to enjoy ANYTHING, and I fail. Is this it? Will this be the rest of my life? Nothing but pain and misery and whiskey? Is this how people end up like this, losing the reasons they had to live and trying to drink the pain away? It’s believable.

Every day is a fight. I fight to care. I fight to not hurt. I fight to move on. I am so tired of fighting.

This...is now...

“Shouldn’t you be doing something?”

I love vague questions, don’t you? Questions that ask nothing while attempting to ask everything. Perhaps more irritating than the question itself is the fact that I knew exactly what my aunt was trying to ask me but didn’t. As a result, I found it all too easy to be difficult. “I am doing something. Sitting is something.”

“And drinking.

“There, that’s two somethings. I’m multi-tasking.”

“It’s just… I expected you to be doing other things than sitting and drinking. You could do that at home.”

“This is true.”

“I thought you came here for a change of scenery, to take your mind off things.”

I did, so help me I did. I hoped I would be distracted somehow from the everything that’s been going on in my life. I really did. Does anyone think I want to be like this? Waking every day and hating taking breath? Hating seeing a new day rise? It’s all such a mess. And no one can help me with it.

I said none of that. I couldn't. The words choked in my throat as I thought of them. All I could manage was a quiet “Yes.”

“Maybe, maybe if you drank a little less…”

“Really? I’m in Ireland and I’m being told I’m drinking too much. That is possible? Well, now I’ve learned something new. Hey, three things at once. That truly is a skill.”

I finished my beer and made it to my feet. “Tell ya what,” I continued. “I’ll go for a walk. Is that better?”

“It’s something.”

Ha ha. I’ve got whiskey available to me outside so I can continue to multi-task.

That...was then...

Glancing back over this, I think I may have slid from explaining to complaining and that concerns me. No one like a complainer, least of all me, and if I've drawn a picture that portrays me as friendless and joyless; then I have expressed my situation inaccurately. While I have been figuratively kicked and beaten, I am not without support.

As explained, Cuthbold has had to deliver a great deal to me. While he's awkwardly Cuthbold, he's tried to be nice, never relishing the moment. When things have gotten serious in our departmental meetings, Cuthbold has defused it or shut it down as was necessary.

I've not had the time or energy to go out much. If I have the time, I won't have the energy and vice versa. Friends have called and asked to visit; often friends that don't get out much themselves. Mike has taken time from his busy work schedule to come over, watch stupid movies and worked to generally distract me, not giving me a hard time when I've fallen asleep on the couch mid-film.

Chris has sent Julia to visit me on occasion, mostly with food knowing that I don't cook for myself well even when I have the time. I've woken up to a clean house thanks to her. It's moments like that when I wonder what I've done to deserve such loyalty.

I don't want to short change anyone that's been kind to me in these regards but I also don't want to turn this into a list of names and events. I'm confident that I don't know the full extent of what people have done for me, what words of defense may have been spoken outside my presence or ideas generated to support me without my knowledge. Thank you all.

While I know I have the support of many, none have supported me as Sarah Jean has supported me. It is not in my nature to lean on others for support but she has done her best to educate me as to how this is done. Physically she is rarely here but in every other way she is never far from me. We communicate in various ways almost constantly, on the phone, in email, mental communication, or however else. Doctor Aloysius Sanders was in town last month and he delivered a note to me from her. One of the smartest men on the planet, if not the smartest, and Sarah Jean reduces him to a kid passing mushy notes in class.

So, if nothing else, Sarah Jean cares about me. I've no idea why she should do so but I appreciate it. No, that word's not good enough. I treasure her support. That sounds more accurate. She's a wonderful person and I don't see how I deserve her attention but I love her for it.

Still Not Funny

I was sued.

I was in good company there as the Na'Dar, the college, and Dave's parents were also sued. I'm surprised Janet's parents didn't sue the mobcomm providers for our not having a signal to call for help. I was also 'sued' by one of the survivors for emotional distress but that turned out to be a joke. Not terribly funny at the time. It's funnier to me not by not by much.

All this combined to make the past few months some of the least fun of my life. There was a lengthy criminal investigation. Eventually I was cleared of any wrongdoing. The civil lawsuits still hangs over my head but I understand that there has been a payment offered by the Na'Dar, sort of a 'we're sorry our old equipment killed your family member' sort of thing and payment is contingent on all the lawsuits being dropped. The family's bargaining for more money feels a bit crass to me. Its their right and they have to do what seems best to them but I don't know.

The size of my intern pool was trimmed by management so I get to do more with less. I am not particularly enjoying doing more with less. I get to do a lot more work for the same amount of pay, regularly staying late just to try to keep up. We never manage to keep up.

Making things more complicated is the fact that I lost most of my previous interns. Some were graduating and done anyways. A number quit due to my troubles; whether it was their decision or their parents is less important than the fact that the decision was made and acted upon. The up side to this was that I didn't have to fire anyone to reach my new staffing levels. On the down side I had to train more new people than expected. This took time and patience and rework to fix problems that weren't fixed properly the first time. This is not conducive to keeping up or maintaining good relationships with the other departments.

My team was destroyed. My peers, and I use that term very loosely, that had decided to not like me already took this opportunity to further align against me. They remained polite to my face and within meetings but fought me and abused me within that realm of politeness. My opinions were ignored or, worse, dismissed with a jibe about the other times when my 'opinion' had cost others. This was all very amusing to them. Not so to me.

Thankfully, policy and procedure were on my side, so Cuthbold could defend me. I had only been accused of things, never convicted, so my job was secure. Had I been convicted, I would have been fired but I wasn't. While the Na'Dar's 'assistance' may not have been officially welcomed due to the stigma associated with the... event, behind the scenes I'm told that all will be well if the lawsuits just go away. I don't think I have much to worry in that regard.

Into the Fallout

Have you ever been around someone that died unexpectedly? People have questions. They want to know details. What happened, in what order, what you did in response, why did you respond in that way, and on and on. Everything you did is double and triple checked. People who weren't there and may not understand the situation you were in have opinions about what you did or should have done. I've often heard that hindsight is 20/20. The reaction of some people to what happened around that cabin last summer proves that to be true. Worse yet is that some people seem to be of the impression that I should somehow have had access to this hindsight at the time and saved everyone. Most of the people with this opinion have been parents.

I was in charge, they like to remind me, shouldn't I have done more? How dare I let their child be killed? Why didn't I figure it out sooner? How did I not magically walk into the cabin and know that someone had found a buried spaceship and accidentally activated the defense mechanism? All the questions that haunt my head are spat at me by strangers. Somehow, in not succeeding more, I became the villain to some.

I try to understand them. They're in pain and need someone to blame. Subconsciously or not, they decided that I was in with the Na'Dar. By my own admission I recognized the ship, knew where to go, and could read the language to some degree. When there was the meeting with the delegates from the Na'Dar embassy, I was recognized and greeted by a Na'Dar gentleman I'd previously met through the college. To someone who's never met a Na'Dar before, perhaps never seen a Na'Dar in person, this must have seemed suspicious.

I can see why these people might have reacted the way they did. That doesn't mean it hurts any less; it just means I can see where they might be coming from.