A Living Denial

Rory McDonald is happy-go-lucky in 1960s Seattle, however, he soon becomes worried over the war in Vietnam, until he talks to a girl who tells him to forget. This story is a prequel to another story.

Seattle, WA, Monday, September 4, 1968

Rory McDonald walked along the sidewalk, wearing his favorite pinstriped vest and white dress shirt with a pair of black trousers and his cowboy boots. He didn't have anywhere special to be, but he knew that later that night he had to go to the local hangout spot, The Fish Bowl, where he could get a beer and hang out with his buddies.

He looked at his wristwatch and thought about how he was going to conservatively spend the next four hours of his day. His job at the coffee shop wasn't what it used to be, especially since most of his customers were fighting in Vietnam and the only customers were long haired college kids or bitter old men. He reached in his back pocket, feeling his wallet and pulled it out. He had some cash in the main compartment, a few pictures of his girlfriend, and his license.

He smiled and stuck it back in his pocket, looking around at the big buildings and the ever cloudy sky. He knew it would rain soon, as it always did, and would always do in Seattle. 

Rory looked over to see a newspaper stand. He felt like reading the funnies, so he walked along with a slight skip and saw the vendor, an older man, looking at him with a smile. Rory coughed slightly from the cold air in his throat and said, "I'd like a paper, sir."

"Okay, 50 cents."

Rory reached in his apartment, pulling out a crisp dollar bill and gave it to the vendor. He took the paper, hearing the faint sound of a radio the vendor was listening to. He looked at him, "Can you turn that up, sir?"

"Okay," the vendor nodded and turned the knob to the right. He listened carefully as the radio announcer tuned in. 

"News from Vietnam, another bombing run has successfully eradicated a village near Saigon of the Viet-Cong soldiers, and has given our boys another step toward victory," the announcer droned on. The vendor shook his head in a bitter chuckle and Rory was puzzled. He looked at the man for a few seconds until the fellow caught his attention and shrugged, "Its all bullshit. Wars and bombing runs and napalm and killing."

"What do you mean?"

"Son, I served in one of the platoons that liberated a concentration camp in Nazi Germany back in '45. I saw what was going on behind closed doors. Them poor people, all of them, like skeletons that couldn't move because their bodies had no muscle or energy left in them. I saw the mass graves and I helped send children away to the field hospital, away from the emaciated bodies of their parents. I seen things that don't leave you overnight, and they don't give you a chance to get over it, it was hell on earth," the vendor sighed, taking off his glasses with his right hand and then wiping his eyes with his sleeve, setting the glasses back on his nose and looked at Rory, "Them announcements say only what sounds good for the people. I can tell you from what I learned, there's more going on in that war over there than their going on about. I mean, think about it, they bombed out a whole village to kill the enemy soldiers, but how do we know there wasn't civillians killed in that bomb? Who's to say the enemy is even the enemy? Every day, I look outside on my way to work, I see protesting and police fights and picketing places. The radio is full of them peace songs mixed with Vietnam announcements. We are in a war here in America, and Vietnam is only causing it to be a bigger problem.

"My question is how long will it take before we start shooting each other? You answer me that question," The vendor finished and stacked up more papers, turning away from Rory and going about his business. Rory hadn't thought about it all that much, he had figured Vietnam would be about as bad as Korea had been back when he was a kid. He looked down to the ground, tossing the paper he'd just bought in the trash and started walking back up the road. He didn't know what to think anymore. He wasn't even sure if he'd heard everything the vendor said except for the last few sentences. He walked back up to his own coffee shop and stood at the counter, looking at the menu board and feeling in a daze. 

The employee who came up to greet him, a girl named Salvation "Sally" Johnson, had a small crush on Rory, not that she ever acted on it because she knew he had a girlfriend at the university. She looked at him, "What can I get for you, Rory?"

"I want a plain black coffee."

"Okay, one black coffee, any snacks?"

"No."

"Okay, that will be 40 cents."

Rory pulled out his wallet, handing Sally a dollar bill and looked out the window, where he could dimly see the newspaper stand. He played over the speech in his mind, over and over again, but a soft voice seemed to break into his ears. He looked over and saw that Sally was trying to talk to him. He looked at her, "I'm sorry?"

"Here's your change, is everything okay Rory?"

"Keep it. Keep it," he faded off, taking the cup of joe and walked over to the table he'd seen his friends sit at a hundred times over. He sipped the bitter drink and thought long about what the vendor had said. Sally came over to him, she could tell that something terrible had happened to him, she looked down at him. She spoke softly, "Rory, can I sit here?"

"Sure."

She sat next to him and focused on him, "Rory, what's wrong?"

"I just got some bad news. Sally, do you think about Vietnam?"

"The war? Sometimes, but I try to block it out, I don't like conflict."

"Yeah," he swallowed another gulp of coffee and shivered in his clothes. She put her hand on his, looking in his eyes, "Rory, what's wrong?"

"You know there's a war going on here in America? Peace against War."

"Isn't there always?"

"Huh?"

"Think about it, Rory, there were peace activists in Korea, World War Two, and the Great War. People have always disagreed with the war. Do you agree with it?"

"Not particularly."

"Then don't think about it, war is part of living, but if you block it out, you won't worry and you'll get that smile back on your face."

"Yeah, I guess," Rory smiled at her, she was right in the long run, at least for now. He heard the door open and looked behind him. There was a guy he'd gone to high school with. He had long brown hair, a scruffy beard and smelled like dope. He walked in, jostling about as though he hadn't been walking for a long time, he looked over and saw Rory and Sally. He smiled and came over to them both. He licked his dry lips and said, "How's it going, kids?"

Rory smiled, "Hey Chance. What are you up to?"

"Just come for some great coffee. It's been a long day and I need my energy for tonight. What're you two talking about?"

Sally rolled her eyes, she hated Chance Fogie, he had been the big charmer in high school, and he'd lured her into his bed on more than one occasion, but he never kept up with relationships. He was a talker, but he didn't put any umph behind his words, he was just another manipulative prick in her eyes. Rory answered when he saw that Sally wasn't going to, "About the war in Vietnam."

Chance looked at him, "Nam? Why would you spoil such a beautiful day with some crappy story like that?"

Rory and Sally looked at him, Rory asked, "You know anything about the war?"

"Yeah, it's crap. All those idiots going over there to fight for their country. Its just another American victory and then, all our kids get to learn about it in school in twenty-years, big f*****g deal," Chance pretend gagged, he chuckled at them both, but stopped when he realized they weren't laughing. He continued, "Well,  as far as I'm concerned, there ain't nothing like a cappucino and donut. Much better than some forgotten victory."

Chance got up to go to the counter, Sally turned to him, "Chance, do you think you'll ever go to the military?"

"Can you see me over there?" Chance countered, "I can't leave Seattle, I love this rainy-a*s city. There ain't nothing in Vietnam for me..."

Rory chuckled a bit. Chance Fogie was going nowhere with his life. He might as well just buy the farm and do everyone a favor. His girlfriend especially. He was never going to be something big or bad. Just another beatnik. Chance got his beverage and left, winking back at Sally. Rory sighed again and Sally smiled at him, "Hey Rory, don't worry about it. We're safe here. Just think about work tomorrow and things will get better before you know it."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"Thanks, Salvation."

"Your welcome."

Rory got up and started out of the shop. He walked along the sidewalk as the rain poured hard on the city and he felt it run down his neck. He was going to get home and sleep. Tomorrow, he would wake up and go to work. And he'd repeat again. And again, again, again, and he'd go again. He'd take Sally's advice. 

There was no war, only a victory.

Reviews

[Jennie Baron]

I have little to add to what Surya has said. I admire your ability to push limits and imagine a time that is obviously so long before yours and portray it pretty accurately. Well thought out, well worded and intelligent and you do show insight and abilities beyond your age. Wonderful!

[Surya Mayim]

I loved this story. I have lots to say about it. It is very thought provoking. Timeless, human drama.

Before I go into anything else, I want to say that the way you ended this story was freaking brilliant. You write, '...Tomorrow, he would wake up and go to work. And he'd repeat again. And again. again, and he'd go again...'

Wow, is all I can say to that passage. Well, that's not true. I always have way more to say than people want to hear. Comes with the territory.

But, seriously, the way you create his life as a metaphor is brilliant. That you can so adeptly use language to show this man, all men really, are the living embodiment of the human penchant for self-destruction is highly advanced literary skill.

There were a few basic grammatical errors. Big deal, considering how good this story is. Obviously, you have a solid command of the English language. But, and you probably already know this, before you submit anything you write for publication, you'll want to have a professional editor give it a once over.

I was particularly impressed by the dialogue you wrote too. The story arc was excellent too, and the theme strong and well articulated, but the language you used was very realistic. Made the characters come to life.

Lastly, the only major criticism I have is the lack of setting. You mention the seattle rain, which is excellent, and the last paragraph, when you tell us about the rain running down his neck was great, but, as a reader, I wanted a little more. I have been to Seattle many times, and the cool, blustery, wet atmosphere is unescapable. While I was reading this, I wanted to know what this place felt like for this guy, these people. Leaden sky, numb fingers at the newsstand, runny nose, damp shirts, etc... I'm not suggesting you need to incorporate all of these images, just paint a more visceral picture of Seattle. What does the skyline look like? What time of day? Meaning, what is the lighting like. I realize you don't want to sacrifice story for this stuff, but a little bit more would add a lot.

That said, this is a nice, thoughtful piece. I absolutely loved your explanation about humanity's intractable neurosis in regards to violence. That along made reading this worth it for me.

I recently watch an interesting television show where the character described the human experience as a flat circle. This theme comes up a lot in William Blake poems. Basically, he was a cop, when had found three young girls chained in a trailer, who had been used as sex slaves by some neo-nazis. As he was describing this to some other officers, he came to the conclusion that he could be a cop anymore, because he had finally realized that those three girls would be in that room forever and ever and ever. Very similar to what you explained about war at the end of your story, no?

For many years I have been interested in the writings of Carl Jung, and he writes a lot about synchronicity. I feel like reading your story is very much one of those instances. I have been thinking a lot about this lately, and I am not surprised that I found your story the day after watching that television show. If you'd care to discuss any of this in depth, please feel free to email me.

The fact that you are 21, a rabbi already, and write this well, I would very much like to know more about you.

Be well my friend....

[Len Gesinski]

a tale of differing viewpoints.....FF Today. Excellent piece.