"GONGS OF A BELL"
“JESUS CHRIST, FRANK!”
I slammed the car door behind me, sending shards of broken glass everywhere. I stomped off in no particular direction.
“Frank, for the love of Christ, where are you going?” Sandy shouted.
I heard the other car door slam shut and a few seconds later Sandy was pacing me. “Frank, will you just stop for a second.”
“No,” I said, “I’m done. I’m leaving. You’re right. I’m a fucking bastard. I know. It’s not a secret.”
“So, you punch out my car window? What is wrong with you?”
I finally stopped walking and turned to her. “I don’t know,” I said, raising my voice. “I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with me. All I know is that I ruin everything I touch. I thought I was going to try and do the right thing for once, and it just fucked everything up even more.”
“Frank, please, just…here, let me get the glass out of your hand.”
That’s when I realized that my left hand was dripping blood. “Fuck, Goddamn it,” I said. It hadn’t really sunk in yet that I smashed the window with my fist. “I’m fucking sorry about your window, doll. See, everything I touch is ruined.”
“Frank, will you just shut up for one second!” she snapped.
I shut up, more out of shock than anything else.
She began pulling pieces of glass out of my knuckles while I tried to stop some of the bleeding with my handkerchief. “Frank, I know you’re unhappy. I want to help you, but I don’t know what else I can do. You’ve always been so distant…”
“I’ve been distant!” I cut her off, “I’m not the one who’s bringing a different guy home with me from the strip club every few weeks.”
“Well what do you expect me to do, Frank? I’m not going to just wait around for the few moments you’re in the mood. I’m a person too, Frank, and I have my own life to live.”
“And your own mistakes to make.”
“Yeah, that’s right, I’ve made mistakes. But I made them. I may not be living the life I expected to live, but it’s my life. I’m responsible for everything I’ve done, and I don’t blame anyone else but me.”
“I just didn’t want to ruin things. We had something good, I was too scared to change it.”
“Frank, I understand that you never got over your marriage ending, but you can’t keep living in the past.”
Her words echoed inside my head like gongs of a bell. Deep down, I already knew everything she was saying, but sometimes you just need it spelled out in front of your face before you can really see it. We stood in silence while she cleaned up my hand as best she could, using the handkerchief as a makeshift bandage.
“I know it’s all my fault,” I finally said, “I know I’m not a good person, but I try to change. Or at least every time I think I do, I end up doing something stupid.”
Sandy couldn’t think of anything to say, and I could see that it was tearing her up inside. I never gave her a chance to say anything anyway.
“It seems I’ve just been fucking things up my entire life. My job, my marriage, my daughter. I just thought…I just thought I’d make up for that my helping Jennifer. Or, maybe not make up for it, but just…I don’t know. You’re right, it won’t change what happened.”
Sandy breathed out a loud sigh of relief and said, “but that doesn’t mean Jennifer won’t need your help.”
She was right, as usual. And just as I was thinking that, I heard those exact words repeated in my ears out of the mouth of a stranger.
“She’s right,” said the stranger. “Night Cat does need your help. We all do.”
The stranger stepped out from behind a large SUV and revealed himself. I assumed he was one of Jennifer’s superhero buddies, but he didn’t really look it. He wore a basic tan trench coat complete with matching tie, gloves and a fedora hat. He was wearing some large motorcycle goggles that doubled as a mask, I suppose. The fella looked like he crawled right out of a 1940’s newspaper strip, minus the digital watch on his left hand.
“Night Cat said we could trust you, but I’m sure you know how hard that can be these days, so I wanted to check you out for myself before we let you up. You can call me The Watchman.”
“I’m Frank,” I said, “this is Sandy.”
“Night Cat said you used to be a cop, that you know still have some connections with the police. Is that true?”
“Yes.” I said plainly.
“Good, why don’t you come upstairs with me, we have a lot to talk about.”
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