Big and Bright
The phone rang.
Joseph McCarron rubbed his eyes as he searched for the phone. In the pitch-black evening, he looked for the only source of light. Yet, in what seemed like one of the darkest Texas nights, he saw only black.
“Honey, answer the phone.” His wife whined.
He got out of bed to find his phone on the floor hiding under the bed. He rushed to pick up the earsplitting device.
“Yeah?” He impatiently answered.
The person on the other end of the line was in no mood. Joseph could only answer with a few affirmative “uh-huh's” and “yeah” as the phone call went on. Finally, Joseph could only utter one phrase.
“Jesus Christ,” He said, “I’ll be there in a bit.”
Joseph rose to his feet as he headed to his closet to throw on a shirt, jacket, jeans, and boots.
“Again?” His wife turned over to catch her husband before he left.
“Yeah, Sarah," Joseph said as he opened the bedroom door.
“We can’t keep doing this, Joe.” She said. “It has to stop.”
Joseph only grunted his answer as he shut the bedroom door behind him.
The Texas night sky shone bright with stars as he made his way to his pickup. Even though it was a new moon this evening, the stars still provided enough light to guide his way to his Ford F-150.
The wiry, middle-aged man unlocked his truck and yawned a few more times before turning over the ignition putting it into drive.
Something about driving in the middle of the night always calmed him. As he watched the dirt kick up from the tires in the rearview, he almost forgot the reason he was out at two A.M.
Almost.
Flashing blue and red lights in the distance grew larger and larger as he made his way. A uniformed officer stood in the road waving him down.
He put the truck in park and got out.
“Two cars tonight, Stan?” Joseph yelled.
“Well, two cars got the call, forgot to call one off.” The officer said.
“Where is he?” Joseph asked.
“Same spot as last time.”
Joseph brushed past the officer and the bright red and blue lights of the cars to get a better view. Joseph knew what he was going to see, but he always hoped for something different.
And there he was.
An elderly man pounded furiously on a wire gate labeled “Restricted,” grunting with each pound. Joseph only watched as the old man kept pushing the gate and grabbing the chain link fence. He had seen it dozens of times, but each time surprised him.
“Dad!” Joseph yelled to the man.
The old man turned to Joseph, desperation read all over his face. He creeped his way toward Joseph, out of breath from exerting himself.
“Joe!” The old man reached Joseph. “Joe, they’re not letting me in, I have a launch tomorrow, I need to get in.”
“I know, dad.” Joseph grabbed his father by his shoulders. He could see tears in his eyes as he struggled with Joseph. It always broke something inside him whenever he had to pull him away from his night fantasies.
“Dad, let’s go back home," Joseph said to the broken man. “I’ll bring you back tomorrow morning okay?”
“Joe, I have a launch in the morning, I have some final things to prepare.”
“I know, dad.”
“They won’t let me in.”
“I know, dad.”
“You can talk to them?” Full tears were running down his face. “Tell them I work here. Tell them who I am.”
“I will, dad.”
“They won’t let me in, Joe.”
“Let me talk to them, dad.”
Joseph calmed his frantic father. Reassuring him each step back to the truck. The conversation was cyclical, but it hurt all the same. He helped the old man into his truck and shut the door tight and locked his truck.
“Joe!” An officer hailed him over. He couldn't see who it was, but he was sure it was Stan.
“We can’t keep doing this Joe," Stan said as he leaned on his squad car.
“I’m aware, Stan.” Joseph felt like he was responding to his father.
“This is the second time this month.”
“I know.”
“He needs help.”
“Well, what the fuck do you think I’m doing? Sitting on my ass?”
Stan struck a chord. He can see it all over Joseph’s face.
“Joe, I know it’s been tough. And I’m always your brother first, and a cop second, but your dad needs help.”
“I know, Stan.” Joseph looked at his stepbrother. “You’re lucky your dad passed on before getting this way.”
“That’s what happens when you eat steak and potatoes every night, but he was getting there.” Stan placed his hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “Your dad is an American hero. A lot of guys on the force know who he is and respect him for it, but even heroes need taking care of. A place that can watch him twenty-four seven.”
His brother wasn’t wrong. The last few months have been taxing and he and his wife were at their wit’s end. Often, Joseph would wake up fearing that his father had snuck only to find out that he was in his room. And other nights end up like this one.
“I’m going to take him home," Joseph said, getting off the squad car he was leaning against.
“Think about what I said.” Stan shot Joseph’s way. “Oh, and uh..”
“What’s up?” Joseph turned to face him as he got in his truck.
“Sunday.” Stan pointed at Joseph. “Texans at Colts. You in?”
A smile grew on Joseph’s face. “I’ll text you.”
Joseph watched as the blue and red lights faded into the distance as he drove away from the scene, and as the darkness enveloped the truck, he could only look at his father in the passenger seat. His head in hands as he occasionally peered out the windows.
“I have to be back at 0500, Joseph.” His father pleaded.
“Yeah, dad. I’ll get you there.”
“Why wouldn’t they let me in, Joe?”
“Dad…”
“I showed them my badge. I told them who I was. They know who I am, goddammit. I told them, “I’m Alan McCarron, first commander of the Ulysses.” They knew who I was and they wouldn’t let me in.”
“Dad, you need to stop.”
“I told them I was going to be late for launch and…”
Joseph slammed on the brakes and threw the truck in park.
“Dad, goddammit! Stop!.” Joseph’s voice rattled throughout the small cabin of his F-150.
Joseph turned on the lights of the cabin.
His blood cooled at the sight of his father.
Curled up like a child, he whimpered and cried.
“I’m sorry, Joe.” He pushed the words through tears. “I’m sorry.”
Joseph held his father in his arms as he continued to apologize through broken words and memories.
“It’s okay, Dad," Joseph repeated several times. “Sorry for yelling.”
His father’s eyes showed nothing, no awareness.
“Dad, you gotta stop.” He said as he fastened his father’s seatbelt. Joseph looked at his father’s eyes. They had clarity for the first time this evening.
The ride home was quiet. They made it home without barely a word.
A light was on in the kitchen. Sarah’s up, Joseph thought.
“Go to bed, Dad.” He said as they got out of the truck.
Joseph walked into the kitchen to the smell of coffee. Sarah stood near the Keurig brewing herself a cup in her all-blue scrubs.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Joseph sat at the breakfast table. It was nearly five A.M. but he felt like he had a full day already.
“I work the early shift today, I told you.” Sarah smiled and picked up her coffee tumbler. “I’m taking the truck.”
She grabbed the keys from Joseph’s hand and bounded out the door.
In what seemed like the first bit of silence in hours, Joseph rubbed his eyes and dozed off.
Alan McCarron woke up in a sweat.
He checked the time on the clock.
Four-thirty. He was already late.
In the darkness, he scrambled to throw on a shirt, pants, and shoes. He made his way to the door.
His watch.
He always wore his watch on his missions.
The heat started to rise on the back of his neck as he searched his bedside table, dresser, and the bathroom for the watch.
Sharon is going to kill me, he thought. She had given him that watch when they first married and he always wore it on his missions.
The clock read nearly five, he had to go. He was going to be late.
He reached the door and looked back for anything he forgot.
His watch.
He always wore his watch on missions.
Anxiety struck him as he searched the bathroom, the dresser, and his bedside table.
Perhaps Sharon has it downstairs.
The clock read five. He was going to be late, he’ll call them on the drive there.
He glanced around the room to double-check he hadn't forgotten anything.
His watch.
He looked at his wrist. A citizen eco drive watch with his initials engraved lay snug on his wrist. He must have slept with it.
He could smell the coffee as he walked down the stairs. No matter what time, he had to leave, Sharon would always have coffee ready for him.
The kitchen was empty.
Strange, he thought.
“Sharon?” Alan called out.
He didn’t have time, he needed to be heading out.
He took one more look at the house, it will be another year before he would be back.
As he pushed the front door open, the cool Texas breeze washed over him. A great night for a launch, he thought.
“Where’re you going, dad?” A voice said behind him.
Alan turned to see his son sitting on the porch, but he wasn’t the right age. He was older.
“Joseph,” Alan could feel his heart pounding as he tried to understand what was happening, “I’m going to be gone for a while, I have work to do.”
“No, dad, you don’t.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“He’s at work.”
“And your mother?”
“Dad.” His son looked at him with sad, desperate eyes. “Mom’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“She died three years ago, dad.”
Alan felt sick as his knees weakened. He would have collapsed if Joseph hadn't had caught him.
“Easy, Dad," Joseph said as he carried Alan back into the house. “Let’s get you in bed.”
Alan said nothing more as he let Joseph put him back into bed and turn out the light.
The door clicked and clacked as it unlocked.
Joseph jolted awake as Sarah returned home from her short shift. The clock on the oven read 9:21. He slept for almost four hours on the kitchen table.
“Hey.” Setting down her bag she walked to the fridge. “Hungry?”
“I’ll take a coffee.”
“So be it.” She walked over to the Keurig and started a cup for Joseph. “So…”
“So, what?”
“Are we going to talk about this?”
“I’d rather not.”
“He needs help.”
“He has help.”
“Professional help, a caretaker.”
“I’m his caretaker, dammit.”
The clattering of ceramics added a punctuation to the mini argument. Joseph rarely raised his voice, but twice in one night has exhausted him.
“Joe, there are some great homes in Houston for your dad.” Sarah at the table, placing the piping hot coffee in front of Joseph. The bold, caffeinated smell perked him up.
“Just consider it.” Sarah looked through the exhausted eyes of her husband. “I’m going to hop in the shower.”
She bounded up the stairs as Joseph grabbed his cooling coffee and headed to the couch. A little television will keep him awake, he thought.
He hit the power button and the blinding light of the LG logo lit up the room. An old, NBA basketball game started to play on ESPN Classic.
“Rockets and Knicks.” He mumbled to himself. As he settled in to watch Olajuwon battle against Ewing, the constant back and forth made his eyes heavy. Joseph rarely fought the urge for a nap, so he surrendered to the darkness that his eyelids provided.
“Rockets won.”
Joseph jolted awake to the sight of his father sitting on the couch with him.
“The Rockets won.” His father repeated.
“Yeah, Dad. The game was forty years ago, we watched it together.”
“The game wasn’t?”
“No, Dad. It’s ESPN classic, they show old games.” Joseph rubbed his eyes and headed to the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“No, I’m fine.” His father said as he got up from the couch and headed toward the door.
“Where you headed, Dad?”
“Fresh air.” The old man said as he opened the screen door.
Joseph sighed an exhaustive sigh. Three times in one day was too much. He followed his father out to the porch, expecting to see him wandering away from the house to some uncertain place.
He wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the yard.
“Dad?” Joseph called out.
His heart pounded.
“Dad!” Joseph yelled out.
Joseph ran around the yard for any glimpse of the old man. He turned back toward the house. He couldn’t have gotten far, he thought.
And there he was, sitting on the porch.
“Dad, what’re you doing?” Joseph called out to the old man.
The old man shrugged.
Joseph breathed hard and wiped the sweat from his forehead and neck. He took his time to walk back to the as he caught his breath.
He stood above the old man and said nothing. He just sat.
“Are you and Sarah going to put me in a home?” Alan sighed with a weary voice.
“Dad…”
“I know I’m not as sharp as I used to be, but I don’t need anyone…”
“You left again this morning.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, dad.”
“Oh.”
Joseph saw the embarrassment in his father’s face. There was no need to push further.
“How many times this month, Joe?” His father asked.
“It’s been twice, dad.”
“Oh.”
“But, you also tried again this morning after I brought you back.”
“Oh.”
“Sarah’s worried about you, dad.”
His father said nothing.
“You know, I went with her to visit some of these places,” Joseph said. “They’re not all that bad.”
His father said nothing.
“You’ll meet new people. Always have something to do.” Joseph was trying to convince himself as much as his father.
“I won’t be able to see them in Houston, Joe.” The old man finally spoke.
“See what, dad?”
“The stars. You can’t see them in Houston. Too much light pollution.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Next week, it’ll be three years since your mom passed.” His father looked directly at him. “It’s been hard, but I know she’s up there. She always pushed to go into the beyond, so I did. And she’s not here to push me anymore.”
“What do you want to do, dad?” Joseph couldn’t bear to decide for him.
“I just want to sit here a while. If that’s okay.”
Joseph said nothing back. He patted him on the knee and tried to make eye contact with him, his focus was somewhere else. As a child, he watched his father's journey to the furthest reaches of space, but now, he only watches his search for himself on Earth.
Nothing was clearer than what he could see in his father’s eyes. Clouded by what seemed like a dense haze, something was obvious to Joe for the first time.
His father’s mind never belonged to Earth, it always belonged to the stars.
