The old man ❸

There was a time when Michael used to spend all his days in a hospital, waiting for some news of his father's condition, but the old man never got better. It was unfair to see his father in that way; he was  a man who worked his old life for his family and who became a widower at young age. He struggled to pay the rent every month, who went to work every morning no matter under what conditions and who gave everything to his children. And when all his kids were grown up, with grandchildren and life projects, his life was fading. It was at first a heart attack in the middle of a familiar dinner and before Christmas, he suffered another one. He was too weak and ill for being alone at home; that why his younger son came directly from the capital to see him, if that means taking coffee in the waiting room and watching TV sitting on the couch next to his bed.

For Michael taking care of his dad was nothing but a trouble. He had to give up to a job offer where the salary was way better and he was already missing the capital city. He was sure that his brothers and sisters didn't even care about that old man dying in the hospital, and even he wanted to go, there was something inside him that make him stay. 
The TV was on and a journalist was reading the news of a tornado in Texas, a massacre in India and the winning soccer team of the late season.  There was nothing better than that and his father, as usual, was sleeping like a dead. The first weeks that Michael spent in the hospital were even worst; his father had several problems with the blood pressure and a Wednesday he thought that he's father was going to die, but luckily the doctors could stabilized him.  Since that day, his father looked as an old man of 80 years old waiting for his breath. He used to sleep more than in the evening and barely talked with his son. Sometimes he was breathing and sometimes it seemed like he was going to die, but his heart never gave up.

-Claire… Claire…- his voice was rough. Michael was falling asleep sitting in the sofa that he almost didn't listen to his father but he opened his eyes, he saw that pale wrinkled face and that vacuous blue eyes- Who the hell are you?

-Dad, it's me, Michael- said standing up, turning off the TV- How do you feel?

- Who is Michael? I don't have a son! - scream the old man. Everything was getting difficult with his father, especially when the old man started to ramble in his memory- What is this place!? Where I am!!?

-Calm down, dad- he pushed the bottom next to the bed and a red little light came on. In a few seconds, a nurse came in.

- Don't shush me! What the hell I am doing here?- the nurse tried to call him down, but it was impossible. He started to scream louder and louder until a doctor came in, putting him an injection.
After some minutes, the old man seemed to be calm. The doctor was reading his medical record while Michael was asking him questions about the condition of his father. The old man looked at them like a child boy, confused about what was happening. Their faces seemed familiar to him, but where have he seen them?

-I know you-said suddenly the old man. The other two looked at him, but the chances where vague. He started to laugh like someone had just tell a joke and pointed with his finger to the doctor- You' Robert Easton! You're the sergeant of the second battalion in Somme.

-Pardon me? - The doctor seemed now confused. Michael just laughed- I'm Doctor Ross…

-I'm not stupid! I knew you! We used to drink in the bar in France near to Paris… It was 1918 and we won the war and I never knew anything more about you- he said happy, like he was found his old friend- How is Dorothy? And why are you wearing that awful apron!?

-Dad this is doctor Ross- Michael said tired- I'm your son Michael, and you are in a hospital because you had two heart attacks in a month… you almost die.

-A son? Did I get married with Claire?- asked the old man, with hope. Michael couldn't answer; he didn't know who Claire was.

The doctor gave him some medicine which make the old man sleep. Michael had enough to call his brothers and sisters scattered throughout the country, telling them the new condition of his father. The Alzheimer was ever worst and the heart problems and sooner or later his father were going to kick the bucket. But none of his sibling showed enough interest to go. The delusions of that man weren't new in his family life: in one Christmas party he forgot to wear pants and he suddenly was acting like a young child, then he forgot to turn off the oven and the police came to his house because the neighbors saw that something was burning in the kitchen of the grandfather. One of the brothers of Michael tried to go on vacations with the old man but was nothing but a trouble, because he wanted to swim in the pool naked, as he supposed, once did in France during war.

Michael would never understood why his father, when he was mixing things with the past and the present, started to talk about the war in France in the late nineteen century. According to his birth certificate, his father was born in 1943, two years before the second war world began and more than twenty years before the first war world took place.  Not even Michael's grandfather, who lived during those days, used to talk about a second battalion in Somme, France. All must have been tales from the old man.

-You look tired soldier; go home- said the old man to his son, while Michael was drinking another coffee.

-I can’t- said Michael sitting next to his bed-  I have orders of the sergeant Easton and I must stay here- he lied, but at that point nothing was going to make his father happier.

-Have you seen a nurse called…?- he tried so hard to remind her name but it was impossible.

-Claire- whispered his son. The old man nodded with his head, asking where she was, but Michael didn’t know what to tell- She came back home- the eyes of his father clouded and did nothing but looking through the window.  It seemed like he was going to cry- What’s wrong?

-She’s the love of my life- explained the old man, smiling- I knew it the first time I saw her at the hospital… it was a place like this, you know. There were a lot of injured and they needed help. My battalion was… we were only 6 at that hospital, it was a rough day and… I saw her- his father smiled while he remind what it seemed to be his past- I knew right at moment… she was my love.

-What happened next?- asked Michael, with a little of interest. The tales of his father went far beyond his imagination.

-I was transfer to another town… and I never saw her again- said the old man with pain- I still remember her face, her eyes and lips, her hair and her voice telling me that everything was going to be alright…- both were quiet for a minute and then the old man put his head on the pillow, looking at the ceiling- I’m tired… is that you Michael?

-Yes dad, it’s me- he said looking that old face. It was his father again, that former worker of the shoe factory- What happened?

-I'm tired- said the old man looking at him- I’m old