Between the Lanterns(29)



Later, August sat on the couch gulping at a glass of real beer. He had stopped at Big Guy’s Pub on the way home from the clinic and picked up a growler full of the good stuff. Phillip’s wife and teenage son had met them at the clinic and didn’t want August to stay. They probably blamed him. He couldn’t fault them for that, as he definitely blamed himself. He took another big gulp from his glass. The real beer was potent, and he wasn’t used to it. After two glasses, August was already feeling the effects.

“It was all my fuckin’ fault, Sam,” August said with anger in his voice and tears in his eyes. “I put him there. I ruined his gGoddamn life with one stupid fuckin’ decision. It should have been my hands mangled up by the belt. It should have been me.”

Samantha reached over and held her husband’s empty hand and said, “Don’t talk like that, sweets. It wasn’t your fault. How could you have known it would happen? Accidents happen all the time in this world. We have no control over them.”

“But he wasn’t trained for it, Sam!” August wailed. “He had no business bein’ there! I was just tryin’ to look like I was still one of them! I was tryin’ to make them happy, and look what I did.”

August pounded the rest of the beer in his glass and poured another. Samantha realized that he didn’t need her to talk him down off the ledge right now. What he needed was for her to listen and comfort him, and so she did.

Scooting closer, she put August’s head on her chest, and whispered to him, “I’m so sorry this happened, August. It must have been awful.”

He put the freshly poured beer down on the table beside the couch, wrapped his arms around Samantha, and began to cry heavily. Sobs wracked throughout his body. The guilt of what his actions had caused filled August to the brim and spilled out of his eyes.

The next day he woke up when his alarm went off. August showered, shaved, and went down to make breakfast for them. The Home.Phone rang as he was frying some bacon on the stove, and had biscuits in the oven.

Samantha walked in with a smile on her face and a hand on her lower back. That lower back pain was beginning to get to her. It was always worse in the mornings. Seeing August on the phone, she kept quiet but kissed him on the cheek and took a piece of bacon from the plate of finished ones.

She watched him speaking, and saw the expression on his face change.

“Uh-huh. Yes, I understand. I can come in and give you an account of what happened,” August said into the Home.Phone. “They did? I see. Ok, no problem. Thank you, sir.”

August disconnected the call and flipped the bacon in the pan.

“Well, sweets, who was it?” Samantha asked.

“Work,” August replied evenly. “I’ve been fired.”





Chapter 12

AIN’T RIGHT





August was in a deep depression. Samantha could see it in his actions and body language. But, no matter what she tried, she just couldn’t seem to cheer him up. It’s not like they were in dire financial straits because he was laid off. With all the Credit they had from the two insurance settlements over the past two years, they were doing just fine. But Credit was the last thing August was worrying about, and Samantha knew it.

Filled with guilt over the accident at the factory from a few weeks ago, August still blamed himself for Phillip losing both of his hands, e. Even though August had met with him, had seen his new robotic prostheses, and had been told point-blank that everything was fine.

The new hands were working great, and the Credit he was awarded from Worker’s’ Compensation was enough to retire on. Montek may pay their employees peanuts, but at the first sign of trouble they throw buckets of Credit at the problem out of fear of bad press.

None of that mattered, though. August blamed himself for the accident, and there was nothing anyone could say to make him feel better.

“Sweets, I really think that we should get out of the house today,” Samantha said, snuggling up next to her husband. “I’d love to go for a walk. I can make some sandwiches, and we can eat out in Solomon Park. What do you say, August? Will you be my date?”

August did smile when she called him sweets, every time – no matter what. It was the one thing in this world that still made him happy. The love of his beautiful wife, Samantha, was the glue that held his broken pieces together.

“Nothin’ would make me happier, Sam,” he replied. “I’ll go take a shower, and be back in a few minutes.”

August hadn’t showered in three days, and standing under the hot spray of filtered water made his back sting, but in a good way. He stood under the steaming and cleansing rain with his hands pressed against the wall. In his mind’s eye, all August could see was the red stains on the factory floor and the look of horror in Phillip’s eyes. Just like every time he closed his eyes and saw this, August began to shiver uncontrollably, and tears sprang to his eyes.

August quietly uttered his new catchphrase, “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”

He knew that there was nothing he could do to change what happened, and he knew that blaming himself wouldn’t solve anything. August didn’t want to be depressed. It’s just that every time he tried to be happy, he felt it was unfair to Phillip, whose life was forever ruined, or at least altered, because of one stupid decision August had made.

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