#001: Casimir Found Happiness A Sunday Morning

DEATH BY IMPRUDENCE wasn’t a really proper shirt to be wearing to a Church service, but it was all I had on a short notice. Of course I had caught the attention of everyone in town that Sunday morning, from the women who used to bake me terrible cookies when I was a child, down to the girls who sang off key in the choir on stage. The men who looked far too observant over their young daughters, and the older women too professional to give me the time of day, even the people in families whose names I could hardly remember. Everyone down to the Pastor had given me a second look when I walked into the elegant Church; each one wanting to rip me to pieces it seemed.

I had stopped caring about Church and choir girls months ago. Because that was when my mother decided to leave my Father for a hunky German guy, and when my Father started to speak about how Casimir, my younger brother, was “too much of a dreamer” even though he was only five-years old.  Back then there were times my Father would burn me with his new cherry cigars and beat me until I was bleeding because he needed an escape from himself, and didn’t know what else to do when he was drunk. None of knew what to do once my mother had left us to fend for ourselves; she was the only one who had kept us all sane.  Reluctantly I let him hit me, because it was the only thing that gave my father piece of mind in the end; even if remorse wasn’t present. Casimir took the pain harder than anyone in the household but was seldom around to actually witness it. He slowly caught on when my lies started to blur together: “I accidentally ran into the wall” “I tripped and smashed my arm against the concrete.” “I was out playing football with the boys” I think he really knew what was happening when I mentioned going out to play football.

I never once liked sports.

Eventually my father had been diagnosed with Alzheimers and forced into a retirement home, leaving Casimir and I alone to fend for ourselves. I had stopped caring because nothing made sense anymore.

“Ferdinand,” Casimir weakly tugged at the sleeve of my shirt and forced me to lean closer to him. I twisted around slowly and caught his eye, wondering what it was he needed. His voice came out just above a whisper in hopes of not interrupting the service. “when are we going to be happy again?” His voice came out small. He searched my expression for something of an answer but I knew he wouldn’t find one. I pulled away from him and turned to face the stage once more, and then back down at him and serious tension brewing behind his tired eyes. I pursed my lips and brought myself to a stand, compulsively beginning to shout. “Excuse me! Pastor John!” My voice rang loud above the Pastors tender words. The gentle whispers of the town quickly ceased as their beady eyes shot to face me as if I had admitted to a gruesome crime. Each one felt like a bullet; as another person looked the deeper the wound felt.“Pastor John,”I cleared my throat quickly. “when am I going to be happy?” my own voice came out alien and rushed to my own ears I wasn’t liked in the short-hand washed-up town of Lakewood. I knew I had another thing coming at the end of this service. Lowering my vision I  chewed on the inside of my cheek impatiently awaiting him to speak. Pastor John never let the smile fade from his facade as he watched Casimir and I. He lifted a calm hand to close his Large Print Bible, and lowered his glasses against the leather covering.

“That I cannot tell you Ferdinand, but I do know that you will figure it out in do time. This I promise you.” his tone was firm and hard as if he had been recovering from a bad cough. A smokers cough. I nodded slowly and tried to let the words sink in. You will figure it out in do time. How long would I have to wait? He looked from me to Casimir--who had slumped so far against his seat he was nearly on the floor. “You both will find happiness, Ferdinand. You just have to open its doors.” he said weakly. At that point he was directing his words to everyone sitting in the Church, not just us and our tiny cause. That’s what Pastor John does; the hand of one was the hand of all according to his teachings. I grabbed Casimir by the collar and forced him to stand. His curly brown hair bounced atop his head as he quickly hurried ahead of me knowing I was going to force him to leave. I turned to Pastor John and gave him a dense smile of appreciation.

Because really, for a man who left ashes behind the podium, that’s all he deserved.

* * *

“Ferdinand, why did you make us leave Pastor Johns service?” Casimir tried not to sound irritated but I knew he was going to be pissed for the rest of the afternoon. Going to Church had been his favorite thing to do with our mother, because it made him feel important he had once said. I on the other hand didn’t ever enjoy getting dressed up, getting my haircut and sitting for two hours at Church every Sunday to hear a smart man preach about a religion he didn’t believe in. “Are we going back in? Ferdinand is Pastor John mad at us? Ferdinand, don’t ignore me, or you’re going to go to Hell.” He cried out arrogantly. As I tried to inhale a long drag of smoke he kicked the head of my seat and made me drop the last of the cigarette against the bare skin of my arm. The anger that quickly swelled inside my head and broil every inch of my body was far more painful than the brief scorch of a cigarette.

“Gah! Casimir I swear-" I had to bite down hard on my tongue to refrain from using the lords  name in vain in front of Casimir because I knew I would never hear the end of it.  He was sensitive about everything and anything that revolved around religious denominations. God had become the only connection to our mother he had left and I wasn't about to take that away. Jerking to the right I nearly ran someone off the road trying to regain control of the swerving vehicle and remove the burning ash from my skin. I jammed the brakes and nearly choked against my own seat belt as the car jerked forwards. Letting the dense silence linger I slumped lower into my seat and glowered. My anger was starting to reach its boiling point as the days passed. “Ferdinand..?” his voice came out small and alarmed. “Ferdinand I miss mom… When is she coming back? Dad said--” Leaning forwards against the steering wheel I slowly restarted the car and let my keys jingle against one another, waiting for the road to clear.

“Dad was wrong okay?” I snapped defensively giving off a glare as I twisted to face him. Smacking a heavy hand against the steering wheel I managed to slide my foot into the plating of the gas pedal and jerk the car onto the road. Feeling the strain of my seat belt against my throat I wrenched myself around and nearly choked as my heart dropped.  There wasn’t any time for a scream, for me to maybe grab the steering wheel,  push down harder on the gas pedal, or tell Casimir to stop crying. I only felt the crushing blow of a larger truck slamming against my side of the car, and my head smashing against the dashboard.  My ribs felt as though they were collapsing against my winded lungs and crackling as I was thrown against the bare concrete.

Smoke and fumes lined my lungs. I vomited trying to brave the period of internal schock. The torn flesh that once covered my knee was now scorched blacked meat pressed against the stained red roadside; each of the tendons visible and stringy. My leg was quickly becoming a deep purple underneath the driver side door while my kneecap was no more. There was no pain, just complete numbness. I heard the ominous thumping of my own heart as blood trickled out of my left ear and stained the bright grass. A concussion maybe? My mouth agape in awe I tried to release a bitter scream to match the taste of salt and shame on my tongue but nothing except bits and pieces of metal came out, similar to that shed across the entirety of the road. In the beginning I tried my hardest to refrain from much movement; considering half my lower body trapped beneath the flipped car I wasn't sure how much damage had actually been done to my body. Until I heard a faint strained wheeze come from inside the car. I widened my eyes and bit down hard on my tongue in attempt to stay conscious and detract from my growing state of delusion.

Oh the f*****g smell.

The over potent stench of opening wounds and puss, steaming gasoline and burning flesh... my nostrils began to broiled the more I thought about. But the wheezing got louder and louder, more frantic each breath as if summoning me. Forcing my head to surge and throb with discontent. Lifting a arm I was quickly shocked and paralyzed with excruciating pain as I watched blood gush from a large flesh wound embedded deep on my shoulder; glass and grime mixing with the bright red blood only seemed to mask the true vulgarity of the sight. I slowly tried to heave myself away from the crushed vehicle but my vision was already a foggy blur.

My tongue was blood ridden and swollen as I tried to hear my own pleads. In agony I mercifully aimed fight off the hands of paramedics, as well as my hallucinations and the sick cries only a few feet away. I squeamishly prepared to hurl myself away from the wreckage as soon as they released the pressure on my leg. But there was no use. With defeated moans I tried to bargain with my own body. I wanted freedom. Freedom from the pain and distortion. Freedom from the disappointment. I gazed towards the mangled car in hopes they'd understand my dilemma but there was no way to be sure. With my movement and vision fully impaired I felt my breathing become an uphill battle; one with the defensive action failing as each second passed.

That f*****g smell…

I feebly watched the paramedics strap me ontop of a stretcher and forcefully increase my oxygen intake.  My pupils began to shrink until the colors I saw started to morph into something of a man in dress, and then nothing at all. Everything began to fade. No beating heart, no flailing movements, no smell. Just darkness. Darkness and the fading cries of my brother Casimir in the distance, still trapped underneath the car.

The pain was excruciating . Swelling within the right side of my face, swirling around my eye inside and out I was sure it was gradually being pushed out of the socket.I managed to pee open my pressed eyelids and greet the dimmed fluorescent lighting of my hospital room with slight satisfaction.. I lifted my head quickly and brought a slow hand to my face trying to access the damage. I felt my lips gently purse as if I was going to speak, and my eyes fixate atop a pale nurse sitting in the corner. Her expression was slightly bleak, but her eyes were full of interest.

My head is going to explode.

I leaned over the side of my stretcher and scanned the quiet hospital room. Everything seemed to spin around me as if I was getting sucked into a vortex. Without realizing it I began to vomit hard over the edge of the bed. Whatever was left of the food inside my stomach was quickly secreted across the tiled floors, splashing hard against the ground. Throwing my body upwards I thrashed and beat against the cushioning rampantly trying to feel my legs. I didn’t know what to think anymore.

I had stopped caring months ago.

Months ago.

"Mr. Watson, calm down! Mr. Watson calm yourself!" the nurse shouted as she reached for my arms. My skin felt as though it was being ripped off my body, just as it did when I hit the steaming concrete grounds. The nurse continued to jam the hospital button for assistance. Eventually managing to kick a foot up I swung it over the side of the bed and threw myself onto the floor. “Mr. Watson! You need to calm down and tell me what’s wrong!” she shouted, as several nurses and a doctor squeezed into my room. I rolled onto my side and released a gargled noise, feeling the tears spill onto my cheeks.

“My head.” My throat burned and clogged as oxygen brushed through my esophagus. I licked the back of my teeth lightly and lifted my pained arm. Hitting the ground had surged an immense bout of pain through my wrecked shoulder. I threw the lower half of my arm over my eyes and attempted to imagine myself somewhere else.”My head is ripping in half. It’s ripping..” I began to swear as the nurses lifted me back onto my gurney. “I want to see my brother.”

Casimir.I tried to throw myself away from the nurses but they managed to push me back onto the bed once again. The doctor quickly filled my IV liquid with someone I assumed would be some type of muscle relaxant so I stopped trying to struggle. “Where the hell is Casimir...”

The faint crying. The sick crying that was coming from the car. The car I managed to wreck trying to help Casimir, not harm him.

“Where’s my brother? I want to see my brother.” I said more and more frantically to the beat of my throbbing skull. My eyes rolled back to scan the bright ceiling as I  pressed my fingers into my eye sockets. Sore and tender I tried to calm my nerves knowing panicking would fix nothing.

“Your brother is fine. I promise you. He suffered a minor concussion and has a few scrapes and bruises unlike yourself.” the nurse gave a short smile, motioning down to my leg. I groaned through my lips and uncovered the rest of my face to stare down at my wounded limb. My leg was wrapped heavily in gauze and a splint that seemed to extended from my knee down.“Don’t worry. Physically therapy will get to walking again in no time..” she exhaled, taking a seat next to my hospital bed. I ran a hand through my hair slowly and twitched an eye in her direction. Getting past her slightly above average figure and unnecessary amount of lipstick she was a pretty woman. She was built in a good way, her hair was long and straight, and her eyes were nothing short of quick and cunning. Looking over my monitors I watched her silently feeling my brow furrow in frustration after a quick moment.

“Nurse,” I stammered, feeling my stomach start to press in on itself once again. Turning away from her I took in a sharp breath of air and closed my eyes. My head was spinning and I couldn’t focus long enough to say much of anything. “My head. It’s killing me.” I moaned in agony. I lowered an arm and squeezed the blanket firmly in response to my trembling body. Before the nurse could jam the button for assistance again two more nurses came in. I heard one of them mention something about my leg, and the other about the puke that lined for floor next to me. The pretty one tapped me on the head lightly but I was already slipping.

I just need to see my brother.