The second chance

Two strangers intending to commit suicide, meet coincidentally along the bridge where they plan to jump from. what becomes their fate?

He walked along the edge of the bridge slowly, taking little sips from the bottle in his hand. His long ragged hair flew back in the wind as he walked along with his head cast down and hopelessness written all over his face. A sparrow grasping a yarrow to make it's nest flew over his head and dropped the little twig on his shoulder. He picked it, held it between his fingers and then threw it after the bird infuriatedly.
He walked a little more, cars going past him at intervals, then he sat down with his back against the vehicle parapet railings. He sipped some more.
He took one last gulp of the now half empty bottle of beer and dropped it on the floor of the bridge. He held the cold steel railing and raised himself up. The beer was beginning to take effect and he was feeling a little buzzed out now. He felt ready. He looked at the clear blue water beneath the bridge, spreading out as far as he could see and into the horizon where the sun was quickly setting behind a hill. He looked up above him. The sky was clear too, peaceful. He looked to his left and then his right. The bridge was empty. He clutched the railing for support and lifted his own weight, raising a leg across the railing, in an attempt to climb over.
Just then a car honked in the distance as it approached. It gave the man a shock and he quickly restored his position. He thought the bridge was empty.
It was a blue Chevrolet Volt approaching in the distance from his left. It slowed down as it got closer to him and then parked close to the edge of the bridge. A tall refined man in his forties with a clean-cut face, finely dressed in a black Italian suit and a nice pair of shining black shoes, stepped out of the car. He stood staring at the other man without saying a word. He threw a glance at the half filled bottle standing beside the man and he understood. The first man stared back at him with angry eyes and dropped upon his bottom.
"Who would have thought of it?" said the man in the Italian suit, leaning against the open door of his car.
The first man gave him a questioning look, obviously not understanding the other bloke's remark. He looked away again into the horizon and picked up the bottle.
Another car was approaching from the left. The neat looking man closed the door of his car and walked round to join his companion. He stood beside him and rested his hands on the vehicle parapet railing, with his body slightly bent forwards. He stared in the same direction as his companion as the approaching car zoomed past them.
"Nice shoes," said the first man.
"Thanks," the second man replied. "Just got them last week."
"Surely must have cost a fortune."
"These? Oh, it was nothing."
"Obviously. It really was nothing," the first man said sarcastically, emphasizing the 'nothing'.
The second man glanced downwards at the man sitting on the floor of the bridge beside him. He took note of his looks for the first time. He was a half-breed with long strands of ragged dark hair. He looked thin and his clothes hung loosely on his thin frame. He had on his feet a pair of canvas with slightly worn out soles.
The man on the ground raised his eyes and their eyes met. The second man looked away.
"What you looking at, geezer?" asked the first man.
"You know," the neat looking man replied placidly, "I could give you my shining pair but it seems neither of us would be having any more use for them."
"How do you mean?" The shabby looking man on the floor dropped the now almost empty bottle of beer and stretched out his legs.
The tall neat looking man turned and sat down beside his companion with their backs against the steel vehicle parapet of the bridge, both hands resting on each of his raised knees. The sun was almost hidden behind the hill by now.
"You see the way the sun goes into hiding behind the hill yonder?" he replied. "That is the reason I made this place kind of my spot."
"Not that I give a damn but I still don't get your point," his shabby companion retorted impatiently.
"Aye, aye. I must be bothering you with my gibber but you see, whenever I feel down and I just want to hide from the stress and the mess, the troubles and worries of the world, this is where I come. And then I watch the sun as it goes into hiding as well. And then I say 'yes, right there's a jolly good fellow who runs away and hides just like I do.' And then it makes me feel like I'm not the only weakling there is afterall."
The shabby half-breed stared at him with disgust and then rose up, leaving the almost empty bottle on the floor. He walked six or seven steps over to the other side of the bridge, backing his companion.
"So?"
"I know why you're here, alright? I shouldn't have honked but I was shocked to see someone beating me to it--and right at my very own spot!"
"You could have your spot and take it to hell for all I care." The other man replied unconcerned.
"That's where we're both going, aren't we?" the clean-cut fella gave a sigh and his head fell forward between his knees. "You must have gotten there by now if I hadn't honked and perhaps, I would have been following right at your heels."
The other man turned around to face him from the other side of the bridge.
"You came here to jump, too?" he asked.
"It sounds pretty awkward the way you say it. You make it sound like it's some sort of sport."
The sun was completely hidden behind the hill now and darkness was gradually setting in. Just then, the lights running along the bridge lit up.
"Its always beautiful here at night. Many a time I've been here just the way I am now."
The shabby looking half-breed glanced at the motionless Chevrolet. It looked neat and new, like it's owner.
"You don't look the sort," he said after a long moment of silence.
"Huh?"
"I mean, you don't look the depressed sort. Coming here to hide from the world and all that crap you've been spilling, what could you be hiding from? I mean, from where I'm standing you've got everything a man could desire to have his shoulders raised high."
The other man gave a short giggle. "You think so?"
"It appears so. Why in the world do you want to drown yourself and leave all this behind?"
"You were about to do the same thing before I honked."
"My reason is obvious. I have nothing to leave behind except that bottle standing by your side. She's the only one that's gonna miss me, my touch and my lips."
"And I have everything to leave behind?"
"Well, for starters, that Chevrolet you got there ain't no easy thing to come around by. You are no commoner."
"Hehe," the neat looking man laughed quietly. "Well, you could say that."
The lamps along the bridge cast their beautiful reflection upon the river. The crescent moon danced inside the waters softly whilst a soft wind blew from the east.
"Since you won't be needing this anymore," said the clean-cut bloke picking up the beer beside him, "You won't mind me finishing it off. Kinda getting thirsty here, didn't plan to stay this long."
"Go on, help yourself."
"You're one helluva nice friend indeed," the fine fellow chuckled.
He stood up with the bottle and walked up to his companion on the other side.
"Maybe we should jump in together," the shabby looking bloke said. "We've spent some good plenty minutes in each other's company, had a drink together, too. Its only fair we go to our deaths together as well."
"Wow that's brilliant now, ain't it? If only there were too bottles here we would make a toast and say 'to self killers!' hahaha." the clean-cut fellow chuckled again as he gulped down the remaining liquor and sent the empty bottle flying into the water below with a splash that broke the silence that stretched for miles.
"I wonder how you find it all funny."
"Is it not funny how you can acquire everything you want and in the process lose the one thing that really matters?"
"You apparently have an interesting story about you," the shabby half-breed looked at his companion from head to toe, trying to read him.
"Perhaps."
"What's your name by the way?"
"Ilaboya," said the fine looking man. "Morris Ilaboya."
"Jack."
"We just officially became a fine pair of jolly good friends, Jack, haven't we?"
"I guess so," said Jack as he sat down again.
The moon was now hidden amongst a set of clouds in the starless sky. It was getting cold.
"I usually feel better by this time whenever I come here," said Morris. "But I never planned on staying this long today. I just wanted to see the setting sun from this spot one last time before I jump off."
"I see."
"Come to think of it, why drowning?" asked Morris after a brief period of silence. "Why not something else like cracking up your throat on a noose or blowing your hopeless brains out with a bullet or running in front of a moving train?"
Jack turned to face him and stared at him in horror and annoyance. "What insane talk you spilling, f*g?"
"You won't take offense from your fellow 'felo de se now', would you?"
Jack looked away. "Well, I once heard a tale from my grandma when I was little that when a guy who can't swim gets drowned, they get taken by a mermaid into the bottom of the ocean and then they start a life together. Something about the mermaid turning the guy's legs into a tailfin."
"So you wanted to run from your present life to start another one at the bottom of the ocean?"
"Not that I believed the whole bunch of crap anyway."
They both fell silent and stared oblivious into the waters. Morris moved to the opposite edge from where Jack was seated, and then sat down facing him. He stared past him without really looking at anything in particular. Few vehicles flew past now and again, gradually becoming even less frequent.
"Beautiful night it is," Morris's voice broke the silence.
"And a lonely bridge too," replied Jack.
"You don't get to see much motorists around here by this time. Guess they are scared of running off the bridge and into the water," Morris scoffed.
"Unlike us two right here. We are so ready to go."
"But why are we still talking? We should be dead by now, don't you think?"
"Well, I'd admit I've not had this kinda company since I could remember. We both have something in common."
"A lovely thing two sensible people ever should have in common!" said Morris sarcastically.
They fell silent again. The cry of an owl could be heard somewhere along the railings of the bridge.
"Wish I could have another beer now," Jack sighed.
"You not going to drown anymore?"
"Sure. I had to drink to get a bit high and ready before attempting to jump over but you came along and then..."
Jack thought of the water. The depth. It scared him. He couldn't swim so he knew jumping into the river from the bridge meant instantaneous death and that's what he wanted. Not a rope around his neck wriggling his throat to shreds, no, that would be too painful. He couldn't jump in front of a moving train or vehicle as he would become a point of interest thereby becoming the talk of the town. He didn't want such attention, didn't think his ghost could bear it. And he didn't want any driver seeing themselves as his killer. He had thought about cutting his wrist but that would be slow and as painful as hell. He wasn't sure if he'd like the taste of poison. And what if someone comes in at precisely the wrongest of times and rushes him to the hospital? No, that would be most tragic for him, he thought. He didn't even have a gun or knew where to get one. Drowning just seemed perfect.
"What 'bout you, Morris," said Jack breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Why here? Why do you prefer drowning?"
"Like I said before," replied Morris, "here's my spot. I like the view here, how the sun sets behind the hill, hiding from this cruel world."
"But it always comes back the next day and shines its light to the cruel world."
"Same way I go back home feeling better. Like nothing ever happened."
"But this time you weren't planning on returning."
"Absolutely not," Morris's voice was a bit lower and shaky now. "Return to what?"
Jack looked at his companion bewildered. "How do you mean?" he asked.
Morris's eyes glittered in the light. Tears were forming.
"Hold yourself up, man," said Jack. There's really no use weeping now. I don't care to know what your sorrow is all about, just come up ahead and have your jump and get it all over with."
Morris reached into his pocket, brought out a handkerchief and blew into it. He wiped his face and threw the handkerchief away. It flew and hung on the railing.
He checked his watch. It was past seven already.
"I shouldn't have let her go," he said after a brief silence.
"Let who go?"
Morris fell silent again. He sighed and bowed his head. "It was all my fault. I shouldn't have allowed things escalate to the point they got to."
He sounded like he was struggling to suppress some grief deep down, some immense pain. Jack understood this. He had sorrows of his own but he was done weeping and mopping about it. All he could think of now was to end it all.
Morris wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sat up. "It was my work. I let it consume me. I'm a manager in a large firm in the city, you know. I spend more time at work than I do at home. And when I'm home, it's like I'm never really at home."
He stood up and walked a few steps ahead and leaned against the railing.
"Well?" said Jack.
"I was like you once, you know. My family, we had nothing. I struggled through school and lucky for me, I got a scholarship and then an immediate appointment after school. It made me exert all my energy into my work to rise to the top and have all I never had when I was younger.
"Then I got married and had a kid and well, let's just say I was never able to find a balance. Hard work was always my priority. I thought if I could give them everything I thought anyone could desire, then they'd be happy and you know, everything would just work out, but I guess I was wrong. All they wanted was me, to be a husband and a father. It was that simple but I never really got it.
"Becca, I loved her with all my life and every breath in my lungs and she knew it, but my keenness towards my work kept pushing her away."
"Loved?" said Jack. "You guys broke up or something?"
"It became worse when I delved into writing and publishing," the mopping manager ranted on like he didn't hear Jack. "I would spend all night on my computer and...
"I missed our seventh anniversary last two weeks. It was supposed to be awesome but I got held up with work at the firm I completely forgot all about it. When I returned late in the night she had that cold distant look in her eyes. It felt like I kept breaking her heart everyday. We fought incessantly over it and I kept promising to try and make things better between us. At the end of the day nothing changes."
He blew out his nostrils and then fell silent. The sky was filled with stars now and the gigantic body of water beneath shimmered.
"And Lori," he continued, "I was never truly there for her as a caring and loving father should. I always seem to forget her birthdays and it never ceased to make her cry her eyes out." He mopped in silence.
"This Morning Becca phoned me at work," he continued after another brief moment of silence. "I had not returned home the previous night as I had alot on my hands. She was on a plane when she called me this morning. She had taken Lori and had boarded the plane heading to see her mum, said they wouldn't be returning too soon. She wanted to get away from the s**t I've been putting her through, the lack of attention and affection to herself and Lori. I could perceive the pain in her voice. All I wanted was to give my family the best but I ended up pushing them away. I was rarely there to show them the love and affection as I ought to."
He sniffed and then lay silent.
"Is that all?" Jack asked after a while.
"I wish it were. The plane crashed."
"Dayum! That's one hell of a tragedy. No survivors?"
"No survivors. That's what the bearer of bad news said on the phone."
"Sorry for your loss, man."
"No need to be sorry for my sorry little murderous a*s. I killed them, my own wife and daughter."
"Come on, you were trying to be your best. Lets just put it down to the fact that you didn't realise how you should have gone about it, but you're no murderer."
"I wanted to give them everything," Morris wept. I wanted Lori to have the luxurious childhood I never had but what did I end up doing? I chased them to their death. Is that not tantamount to killing them?"
"Sorry, man," Jack said. "I feel your pain."
"It's alright. But I'm going to be with them again, and soon. Real soon."
"So now you just want to follow them," said Jack.
"I see no reason to continue living. All I have is gone, the wealth and affluence mean nothing to me anymore. My life has been nothing but a colossal wreck."
They fell silent again. Only the tides of the river hitting against each other could be heard for miles around.
"So what's your tragedy?" Morris asked, feeling much calmer again.
"Oh is it not obvious? I only occupy a space in this world which would be better filled by someone worthier when I'm gone."
"I see."
Jack walked up to the car and sat on the bonnet. "I never knew my mum and dad. Dad left, mum died giving birth to me, according to Grandma. Said my father's of Indian descent, knocked my mum up and abandoned her. My maternal Grandma catered for me as a kid and ever since childhood I've struggled to get a life but nothing ever seemed to work. In today, out tomorrow. I tried music but it got me nowhere so I just gave it up. I always have this feeling that I'm jinxed or something. My girlfriend, Katherine, has been the one helping me out for sometime now but I couldn't take it no more. It's supposed to be the other way round, right? And come to think of it, I wonder what she even sees in me. Not that she complains though but-- I didn't really see any headway and I surely do not want to continue being a burden to anyone.
"Drug peddling did more harm than good. I was in and out of jail more times than I could count. Drinking is the only thing that holds me together and keeps me sane; at peace. Guess I'm a huge disappointment to Grandma. I could always read it in her eyes."
He fell silent and kicked the car bonnet with the heel of his canvas into a rhythm.
"You have an interesting story yourself," remarked Morris. He had been listening with rapt attention.
"Interesting?" scoffed Jack. "You say it like we are having some sort of story competition between us."
"Nah. We're one desolate pair with desolate lives in the middle of a desolate bridge."
"Anyway I still think you shouldn't have come along at the time you did. I would have been having my peaceful rest at the bottom of the ocean by now, but I feel so hungry right now. I didn't plan on going on an empty stomach, you know."
"I got some things you might like inside the car," said Morris. "Bought them yesterday intending to take them home to Lori. It would have made her a bit happy at least. But I never got home last night. Never saw them since I left for work yesterday morning. Well, go on, help yourself."
Jack got off the bonnet and into the car. He brought out a polythene bag containing sandwiches, sausages and soft drinks. He sat again upon the bonnet and began opening the wraps and sachets.
"Whatever shark devours me shall definitely have it's full," he joked. "At least that would be one good purpose I ever served on this Earth."
"That's more like it. You should maintain the sense of humor. Wearing a smile to meet your death might numb the pain, I presume."
"You can say that again, pal," Jack said, his mouth filled with sandwiches, muffling his voice. "These are nice. Hmm."
"You're welcome."
Jack ate the remainder in silence and threw away the sachets and wraps and polythene bag. He got down from the bonnet and walked towards the railing.
"It's time," he said looking below into the deep waters.
"It's time, eh?" said Morris rising up and joining his shabby companion by the railing.
"Looks so deep and large, the water does," Jack remarked.
"All the better for our purpose, I think."
"I guess so."
"Well, here's the end of it all. No more fights, no more worries, no more hiding."
A ringing came from inside the car.
"That's someone calling you," said Jack.
"The darned phone! Just let it ring."
The ringing stopped after some time.
"That's alright," said Morris. "Ok lets jump now. Who goes first?"
"Why don't we go at the same time? I'm sure two beautiful mermaids await us."
"You crazy freak," Morris laughed crookedly. "I'm sure you'll get your mermaid alright. Not so sure about me."
"And why is that?"
"Well, what lady would want to start a life with me? They'll most certainly get tired of my inability to give them enough attention sooner than later."
"Perhaps. Anyway, it was nice having you up here with me," said Jack patting Morris's shoulder. "Someone's gonna see me die afterall, though they won't live to tell it."
"Same here. So how do we do it? At the count of three?"
"Fine by me. You make the call."
"Ok. One!" Morris was about to say 'two' when the phone started ringing again.
"Hold up!" Jack quickly interjected. "I am of the opinion you receive your last call, last call you're ever gonna receive in this cruel world."
"Its only going to serve like the honk of my car when you were about stepping over the bridge: delay our demise."
"The call couldn't be more than a few minutes anyway, a few more minutes won't do us no harm."
"Ugh! If you say so!" said Morris exasperatedly.
He climbed down and walked over to the blue Chevrolet and opened it. He took the phone out of the car and held it to his ears.
"Yes, this is Morris on the line," he said into the phone. "Yeah, that's right... Sure I got the ugly news and I don't want to hear it for the second time, so if you don't mind..." He was about taking the phone from his ear and ending the call. "Come again, you said what? No! You don't mean it!" His voice was growing louder and more excited now. "Oh, has she? Oh my God I can't believe my ears! Sure, right away..."
The call ended and Morris jumped into an exhilarating fit of excitement. He screamed and jumped and threw his hands into the air frantically.
Jack stepped away from the railing perplexed. "What was that all about? Who was your caller?"
"Yessss! My God! I can't believe it!" cried Morris. "You can't believe it Jack. Hahaha! I must be going mad. I never believed in miracles and I do not think this is one. This is beyond it. My caller? Best caller there would ever be in this life, Jack."
He ran to and fro briskly and in utter merriment. He kicked the hood of his car and punched the air in victory. Jack just stared at him like some lunatic.
"The plane crash," the mad Morris continued, "My wife and kid were never in it when the plane took off. My Becca and little Lori are hale and hearty!"
"You so do not mean it!" Jack screamed. "You lucky ol' devil! However did they get out of the plane?"
"The caller was a doctor. Becca developed an illness on the plane right before take off and was throwing up. Herself and Lori had to get off the plane and Becca was taken to the airport clinic. The plane left without them and all this while I thought I'd lost my family. I thought I'd killed them. To think that I was gonna commit suicide over something that never happened!"
"I guess this is your second chance to make things right. You go off now and be with them. Guess I'll be going alone afterall."
"You will do no such thing, my dear Jack. Had it not been you, I wouldn't have picked that call and we surely would be inside the belly of a shark by now."
"Well-"
"Was it a coincidence that I came along at the time I did and stopped you from jumping off the bridge? Was it by chance that we passed the time up till this moment?"
"Um, I really don't know but-" Jack was running short of words.
"I saved you and you saved me, Jack, that's what this is."
"You've gotten a second chance but I still do not see how anything has changed for me."
"You really do not see the bigger picture?"
"I won't say that I do."
"By my breath, you just became my personal assistant, my dear Jackie! You can have everything you ever wanted and the life you've always dreamed of. I'm sure Katherine awaits your warm embrace. We are getting out of here together. Now you must come with me to see my wife and daughter."
And that was how the strange pair of would-be suicide victims got their second chance at life.