So Long, Chester Wheeler(64)

“Maybe three instead of two?”

“He actually didn’t mention it this morning.”

“Okay. But if it comes up tomorrow, give him three.”

“You sure it’s safe?”

“I’m sure if they prescribe two, then three won’t be fatal, yes. He doesn’t have time to get addicted. And besides, what’s safe? He’s dying. He needs pain relief.”

I glanced over at Chester, who was drooling on his own shoulder and not waking up.

“Hospice uses tons of meds when people are on home hospice care,” Ellie added. “A whole cocktail of them, and if it’s a fatal dose, well . . . they were terminal patients.”

“We should look into that when we get home.”

“Agreed. I think it’s time. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Thanks,” I said.

And we ended the call.

Chester still did not wake up.



I shouldn’t have tried to drive so far that day, but in the great scheme of things I’m glad I did.

I drove until very late afternoon, with the sun on a long slant.

We were in Colorado, but I’m not sure exactly where. Past Grand Junction. Not nearly to Denver.

Then the Winnie came around a long curve in the road and I got my first good look at them. The Rocky Mountains. Their tops were white with snow, standing out like gems against a deep navy afternoon sky, with a more shadowy portion down below, and scrubby foothills. And I had to find a place to pull over.

A mile or two later I found a rest area that also seemed to be a vista spot. It had bathrooms and everything.

I gently shook Chester awake.

“I’m tired, Lewis,” he said.

“I know you are. But you wanted to see the Rocky Mountains.”

“Oh, are we there?”

He seemed to be exerting great effort to pull himself back up into consciousness.

“Not there, exactly. But we’re where we can see them.”

He opened his eyes and looked around until he saw.

For a long time he just stared at them, saying nothing. It might literally have been five minutes. I don’t know. I wasn’t checking the time. I was looking at the mountains, too.

Then he said, “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

And, with that, he sank straight back down into sleep.

I didn’t try to drive any longer. I’d been driving all day and I was spent, and probably unsafe on the road.

I pulled all the curtains down and made myself a sandwich. Sat on one of the couches and ate it, lifting the curtain slightly so I had a view of the mountains while I ate.

Then I brushed my teeth, slipped out of my shoes, and stretched out. It wasn’t even dark yet, but I fell asleep immediately.



Because I’d gone to sleep so early, I woke very early the following morning. Before four a.m.

Chester did not. And I don’t mean Chester didn’t wake up early. I mean Chester did not wake up.

I opened my eyes in the dark, and waited a moment for them to adjust. There were lights in the parking lot of the rest stop, and they glowed through the curtains.

Chester’s head was lolling over toward the driver’s side. As though I were sitting in that seat and he was staring at me. His eyes were open. His mouth was open.

And I knew. I just already knew.

I got up and held two fingers under his nostrils. No breath touched them. I placed a palm on his forehead. His skin was unnaturally cool.

But I’d already known. Like I said.

“So long, Chet,” I said out loud.

It was an odd sensation, to be so surprised.

I’d known all along that he was dying. And yet, in that moment, at that Colorado rest stop, sitting there with what he’d left behind, I realized I had not expected Chester to die.

A human brain is a very odd place to have to live your life. And that’s really all I have to say about that.





Chapter Twenty-One:




* * *





It’s Okay, Honey

I stood outside, on a hill overlooking the rest area, in the dark. I’d had to hike up to the top of it to get cell phone reception.

I had no idea what time it was where Ellie lived, because I’d never asked her where that was. I’m not sure why not, but I hadn’t. I’d just always called at safe times.

This was not a safe time. Even if she lived in the eastern time zone, it would only be 6:00 in the morning there.

I called anyway.

She picked up on the first ring, which seemed odd.

“Lewis,” she said. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

I think everybody knows that phone calls at rude hours are nothing but trouble.

“I have some bad news, Ellie.”

“My dad died.”

Before I could even open my mouth to confirm, I heard her talking to someone else in the room. Her husband? Did she have one? I’d never even thought to ask. There were so many things I’d never thought to ask.

“It’s okay, honey. Go back to sleep. It’s my dad. No, it’s not my dad calling. It’s Lewis. My dad died. That’s why he’s calling now. No, I said my dad died. But it’s okay.” Then she seemed to come back and speak directly into the phone. “Sorry, Lewis. Now what were you saying?”