The Cool Room by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 36

With his office door closed, Frank spoke to each member of his family, then Dorothy’s. As expected, no one took it well, and Frank tried his best to console them. At some point, a call broke through, and hearing the familiar beep momentarily put his son on hold. It was the local hospital. “We’ll be right over,” he said.

Speaking with his son again, he got up from his desk and, opening the door, yelled to Jonathan. “Jonathan, we got a pick-up at the hospital. Can you and Emily handle it?!”

The call to duty drew them out from the cool room, and approaching the office, Jonathan informed him that they were on their way.

“Yeah, Frank, we got this,” he said. As they walked out to the hearse, Frank retreated back into his office and, sitting at his desk, continued to notify both families of his wife’s untimely demise. This was a first for him, and delivering this kind of news was not easy, regardless of who the recipients were. And the fact that it was family made it far more difficult.

It had not been that long since he last applied his ‘band-aid’ and already the stress of listening to his family’s grief seemed to speed the drug through his system. With as many people as he needed to call, Frank was forced to speak only briefly to each, but with his hands beginning to tremble, he knew he would soon require another ‘dose’. Twenty minutes later, Frank found himself holding a rolled-up dollar bill and using up the last of what had become the source of his emotional salvation – a white powdery life vest. Putting the empty vial in its usual place, he cleared his blotter of any left-over powder and, in a surprising act of desperation, licked what remained from his fingers. As he felt his face grow numb, Frank realized how far he was about to fall, and somewhere in his mind he saw his feet slipping off the edge of what was once his sanity. Beneath him was the cold darkness of oblivion – a place devoid of light and life, with no discernible bottom. One slip, and he would tumble into madness, unable to grasp the edge and pull himself up. At the same time, he saw no choice. The pain of losing his wife was something he saw as a threat to his ability to function. And if he couldn’t function, he couldn’t do his job. Perhaps, it was a matter of pride. Running a business that stands as a pillar of the community comes with many responsibilities, and reputation is everything. Empires rise and fall on reputation, and Frank could not afford to have his reputation damaged by what other people go through. He would simply have nothing to do with it. What he didn’t consider was the damage already being done and the consequences of what could become long-term use. He had always believed that a type of inner strength was an asset, and he took to heart the words of Nelson Mandela. “The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.” But Frank was falling, and hopefully he would have the strength to pull himself up in the end.