| the blog of human failure
“And that, children, is the story of the strength of a bond of friendship between two men,” said Jeffery Sloss. He was sitting in front of a row of children during story hour at the pediatric ward of Oschner Medical Clinic in New Orleans, LA.
“But wait a minute Mr. Sloss,” said little Danny Phife. “That story doesn’t make any sense. If they were flying from Ohio to California then how did they end up on a deserted island in the middle of the ocean?”
“Hmm,” said Sloss. “I think the pilot was taking a detour to Hawaii. But that’s not really what’s important in the story.”
“Why did the pilot want to go to Hawaii?” asked little Sally Lambert.
“I think he left his keys there. You’re really missing the point here, kids. It’s about a life time bond between…”
“And you never explained why the plane crashed,” injected little Mike Bradbury. “Isn’t that important? And also why were there goats on a tropical island in the Pacific? Did the goats swim there or something? And who the heck counts jelly beans for a living?”
“Ah, you crazy kids with your AIDS and your chemotherapy,” said Sloss smiling. “The story is about friendship and discovering yourself. You can’t read into the details so literally.”
Just then a nurse came into the reading room and stopped in shock when she saw Sloss there reading to the children.
“What the hell are you doing here, Sloss?” the nurse almost screamed, to the delight of the children. “The judge told you after your last pedophilia conviction that you can’t come in here anymore. Why don’t you go home and molest your own kids. Either that or take it up to the geriatrics on the eighth floor.”
“Oh Miss Claudia,” said Sloss. “You know my children are already dead.” They both had a good laugh at that as the other children glared at each other nervously. Jeffrey waved to the kids one final time and walked out the door, never to return. Nurse Claudia sat down in the red plastic chair previously occupied by Jeffrey and grimaced.
“Ah gross, it’s all sticky,” she whispered. She settled in reluctantly and the children looked up at her soft yet imposing frame. “Alright kids, now who wants to hear a real story?”
Henry was happy to set Mitch up with a job at his PR firm. He had risen to the ranks of vice-president and was for the first time in his life able to buy himself and his dog separate toothbrushes. Mitch started off at the job very strong, reeling in a few big clients, and spent less and less time crying at his desk each day. Things took a slow nose dive as a malaise settled over Mitch. He turned up for work later each successive day. He stopped making showering a routine habit. He was frequently caught borrowing Scolnick’s dog’s toothbrush. Then came a week when McCulloch simply didn’t show up for work at all. Scolnick didn’t know what to do. On one hand he didn’t want to have to fire his friend. On the other hand he couldn’t have an employee he hired not showing up for work for an entire week. His employees would think he was a pushover and he had already spent so much money on extra wide, stabilizing footwear. On the other hand he couldn’t be personally responsible for every decision the company makes. Echh, it’s got three hands, thought Scolnick. Keep it away from the children! He obviously had to calm down. He didn’t even have any children and if he did, they would certainly have the appropriate protective netting. What he needed was a plan. Before he could even begin thinking Mitch burst into his office.
“I can’t do this anymore,” said Mitch bursting into tears. “I can’t hack it in the real world any longer. I’m moving back to the island.”
“Listen, I’m sorry if I was so hard on you but I’ll buy you your own tooth brush for god’s sake,” said Scolnick. “It’s just gross.”
“It’s not about the toothbrush. It’s not about my job or my wife. Life just isn’t the same since I’ve gotten back from that island. I left something of myself there and there’s only one way I’m going to get it back,” said McCulloch leaning on the chair next to the desk.
“Because I can’t pay you for that week you missed,” said Scolnick. “And I’m certainly not moving back to that island, Mitch. I’ve got a wife now and fancy shoes. I mean, look at me. I haven’t seen a jelly bean in three months!”
“I don’t want you to come with me,” said McCulloch, putting his hand on Scolnick’s shoulder. “You’re my best friend Henry, and you were always there for me. I want you to know that if I could pick any book, CD, and person to bring with me on a deserted island I would bring Absolute Power by David Baldacci, I Don’t Want What I Haven’t Got by Sinead O’Connor, and you my friend.”
The two men embraced and Mitch McCulloch raced out the door towards his destiny. That’s the craziest son of a bitch I ever met, thought Scolnick smiling, standing by himself.
As good as things were with Scolnick, however, life was not going nearly as well for Mitch. In the time he was gone, his wife Mary, assuming he was dead, had met another man.
“He’s a Christian Scientist and very sweet,” Mary said to him without a hint of shame.
“A Christian Scientist?” said Mitch. “Like Pascal?”
“Um, I don’t think so, but he’s very good to me and we’re very deeply in love.”
“But what about our marriage? What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Listen, Mitch I really don’t want to argue about this anymore. You’re giving me a headache and you know I’m not allowed to take aspirin.”
Dejected, McCulloch tried to go through his routine at work but kept falling off his schedule, distracted by his loss. He just couldn’t believe that his wife had left him.
“Maybe if it was one of those Nobel-Prize-winning Jew scientists I could live with myself,” he would mumble to himself at his desk, “but a Christian Scientist? What kind of world are we living in?”
Things went from bad to worse when he was called into the company president’s office. Apparently he hadn’t sold an insurance plan since he’d been back from the island and his fellow associates in the office were complaining about his constant mumbling.
“We’re going to have to let you go, Tom,” the president said.
“My name is Mitch, sir,” said Mitch, trying to hold back his tears.
“That attitude of yours is more than half your problem, son,” said the president slamming his feet up on his desk. “Doreen will validate you on the way out.”
“I don’t drive to work sir, and your secretary’s name is Hank,” Mitch sputtered.
“Say goodbye to that reference, Tom,” the president said, frowning.
Without a wife and without a job, McCulloch didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how he was going to pay his rent or how he was even going to survive. There were friends that he could ask for help but without his job they would all pity him and he would rather kill himself then have to rely on their self-righteous charity. There was only one person in the world he could possibly call. He picked up his cell phone.
“Honestly, Mary, a Christian Scientist. I don’t even think those people wear shoes. Why don’t you just marry a friggin’ Mormon or gopher and get it over with?”
“Please stop calling here Mitch,” said Mary and then she hung up the phone.
“Alright- I’ll call that goof Scolnick,” said McCulloch to the dial tone.
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