The Man in the Trench Coat
“I’ve had enough! I’m leaving! How much more can I take? The child, her constant tiredness, always asking for help, help, help… I just want things like they were before! I want sex, for crying out loud! I work hard and I want to come home to my loving wife, a woman, not a frumpy, exhausted housewife! First, Ill crash at Toms, then Ill settle somewhere and find someone new. Ahhh…” I muttered to myself, nervously lighting another cigarette as I sat behind the wheel. Tonight marked the end of it all between me and Emily.
Our story was hardly original. We met, fell madly in love the passion was unbelievable and, letting caution slip, we forgot about protection. A few months on, she showed me two blue lines.
Of course, have the baby, well manage, I told her with all the confidence in the world, and our relatives nodded along Well help, just have the child! Then the birth, happy tears a son! And then
The carefree happiness vanished. Emily turned into a forever-messy, sleep-deprived housewife. The house was filled with our sons cries, the endless mess of nappies, and even at night came the constant help me, help me! Where was my sweet girl gone? The family, who promised to help, quietly vanished, leaving us alone in the trenches of parenthood…
Im not ready for this! I blurted this morning, slamming the door behind me as I left.
***
Suddenly, a hunched figure in a long coat appeared before my car. I slammed the brakes, tyres screeching…
Do you have a death wish?! I yelled, jumping out from the car and running towards the figure.
An old man in a weathered trench coat straightened up and looked at me with sorrowful, cloudy eyes. He whispered, Yes.
His answer threw me. I stammered, Sir, do you need a hand?
I dont want to live anymore, he replied.
Now, come on, thats rubbish. Let me give you a lift home you can tell me whats going on, maybe I can help? I took his thin arm and helped him into my car.
Well, go on then, tell me your story, I said, lighting another cigarette.
Its a long old tale, son.
Im not in a hurry.
He glanced at me, taking in the family picture on my dashboard.
Fifty years ago, I met a girl, fell madly in love life moved quickly. Soon enough, we were married, had a boy, an heir. It should have been happiness, right? But I wanted things to be like they were love and passion. Oh, how young and foolish I was! Meanwhile, my wife was always weary, juggling a baby, life, and work. I saw myself as the provider making money was enough, I thought. I didnt help her in any way. At work, I started an affair. My wife found out that was that, we divorced. Nothing worked out with the other woman, but I just shrugged and found someone else. I was free! Couldnt care less, living as I pleased. My ex-wife remarried, looked happier, and our son started calling her new husband Dad. I didnt care.
So what happened? I asked, my nerves frayed.
Well, that became my life no family, no wife, no children. Just freedom. Today, my son turned fifty. I went to wish him happy birthday, and he shut the door in my face, the old mans voice broke into tears, Serves me right. He told me, Youre not my father. Go enjoy your freedom.
Where am I taking you, then? I asked, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel anxiously.
I live just over there. Go on, off with you, dont trouble yourself, he replied, shuffling out and hobbling off towards the nearby block of flats.
I watched to make sure he got inside, then turned my car around. I stopped off at the supermarket and bought a bunch of flowers.
Forgive me, Emily, please, I said as I hugged my tearful wife.
I took our son from her arms and carried him to the next room, rocking him gently, singing in my rusty baritone, Twinkle, twinkle, little star…
To my surprise, our son drifted off straight away, his little hand resting on my racing heart. As I stared at him, full of tenderness, I thought, I want to see my boy grow up, I want to hear him call me Dad.
***
Out helping lost souls again? The old mans wife greeted him with a smile at the door. He hung his coat up by the stairs.
Yes, another one. Someone has to keep the young from making the same mistakes I did.
How do you know who needs help?
I just sense it. Maybe its because I needed help myself at that age
Well, lets have some supper, hero. And remember, tomorrow is our sons birthday, so no heroics in the evening! she said, looking at him with fondness.
How could I forget? he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders as they made their way into the kitchen.
Its funny, looking back sometimes it takes meeting your future self to remind you what you truly care about. Dont let the best parts of life slip away.
