Author: James Flanagan
Lying on the gurney, I slowly succumbed to the anesthetics. The last thing I recalled was a bright light and a frantic “Oh, shit.”
***
I opened heavy eyelids and blinked.
“He’s back.” My wife’s voice, distant, unsure.
“Dad?” Andy, my son.
They each held one of my hands. Restricted, restrained. I tried to shake them off. Retreat!
Judith’s smile hid bruised cheeks, her eyes hid hope.
Never again, I told myself. I turned to my son. “I’m sorry.”
Andy hid his broken arm beneath his jacket. “We want you to get better, Dad.”
“The anger-ectomy was a success,” the doctor said, stepping forward. “However, there was a complication. Another emotional center was partially ablated requiring radical reconstruction.”
“It’s ok, Doc, it happens.” I smiled.
“Those cross-wired emotions will eventually regenerate their synaptic networks.”
“Fine.”
Judith and Andy helped me stand. I flinched at their touch. Discharged, they escorted me to a cafe; a safe public location to test out my rearranged brain.
“How’re you feeling?” Judith’s voice was calm, but her white knuckles betrayed the truth.
I tensed. “I’ll be okay…” Flee!
Andy put his hand on the table. “Dad, I want to do a test. I got caught at school with some of this.” He lifted his hand. Marijuana.
I shrugged. “Fine.”
“And, I crashed the car.”
“Insurance will cover it.”
Andy turned to Judith. “I think he’s better.”
Judith reached to kiss me, but I shuddered backwards. Sweaty hands slipped on the chair. My heartbeat rose, bladder released, I turned my head to hide.
“That’s ok.” She tried to smile, but failed.
A crash thundered through the cafe. A man in a balaclava smashed tables like a bull. “Everybody on the floor!” He held a shotgun aloft.
Screams ricocheted around the cafe. Customers threw themselves to the floor, whimpering, cursing and praying. Judith and Andy dove under their table.
I stood up.
“Dad, what are you doing?”
Striding towards the gunman, my arms wide like Christ the Redeemer. Tears filled my eyes as my heart swelled. Like sunlight bursting through my vision, a field of wildflowers scented the air and the songs of distant youth came unbidden to my mind. Nothing could fill my soul more, love brimming over the lip.
“What the fuck?” The gunman walked towards me and leveled the gun at my chest. I stood still, gazing into his eyes.
Brushing the gun aside, I threw my arms around the man and held him tight. “It’s alright. I love you.”
“What’s wrong with you, man?” The burly gunman shoved me. “Do I know you?”
“No,” I replied.
“Get outta here, man.” The gunman shoved me again and backed out of the cafe, muttering, “Not worth it.”
The customers in the cafe emerged to thank their savior. Me. Judith released the breath that she had held, and approached.
“I understand now. Fear and love,” she said, reaching to hold my hand.
I pulled away, nodding. “Fear and love, but no anger.”