Chapter 15: Dead or Dying

TWO YEARS IN THE NAVY and the best I could guarantee was that I could survive in a swimming pool if I had a life jacket. I was floating up through the murk and mud. I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t cold. My lungs weren’t hurting particularly. I knew what had happened. I was dead. The murk was just the mess I’d made of my life. Maybe I would have eternity to clear it up. For some reason I remembered just when I’d lost Hope.

My mid-life crisis hit the day I realized thirty-three was half-way through my life expectancy. Of course, technically, having already survived Viet Nam, I should have had a much longer life expectancy than the sixty-six that was estimated in 1982, but apparently I had seriously over-estimated.

At thirty-three, I’d just been promoted to full partner and celebrated by buying a brand new bright yellow Mustang convertible. I moved to a new apartment in a trendy part of town where I could hold huge parties for young, equally trendy people. There was just one thing missing in my life, and I went hunting for a beautiful, young, and trendy girlfriend. Hope springs eternal.

Hope was her name.

We met at the top of Mt. Si on a Saturday afternoon, looking across the lowlands toward Puget Sound. We hiked back down the mountain together and shared a drink at a cozy North Bend watering hole. Much to my surprise and delight, we spent the night in my trendy, downtown apartment. Smart, funny, and beautiful, Hope was twelve years my junior; but we made each other happy and, clearly, that is what mattered. Within two months, Hope had moved in with me and I couldn’t have been more pleased.

Having eye-candy on my arm at company gatherings added to my status among my male coworkers. For her part, Hope liked the gatherings because she was drawn to power like a magnet. Power that comes from money, position, and oh, yes, did I mention money? Hope liked people who were powerful, they got her into doors and then she left them behind. She loved power. Did I mention that? Power that you get from wealth and position.

Power like my boss’s.

Damn.

It was a big hairy falling out. She said I never understood her. I’d always held her back. I was just plain mean.

Don’t turn me into a martyr. For my part I told her she was an incompetent gold-digger and a slut. Besides which, I’d been sleeping with a college girl who was in a class I taught and didn’t really care what she did.

Except that she backed a truck up to the apartment while I was working one day, emptied it of everything but my one painting and my recliner, and drove away.