BOOK OF DAYS
Prologue
©James L. Rubart 2011 (unedited)
B&H Fiction

 

 

Cameron Vaux stepped into his dad’s room and tried to push the regrets into a dark corner of his mind. They’d never go on the backpacking trip he’d planned for his dad’s 55th birthday. Never take the sailing trip from Seattle to Alaska. The cruise around Italy would be a grand intention never fulfilled.

The what-should-have-beens had vanished.  

Just like his dad’s mind.

It had been a year since his dad knew who Cameron was. The doctors said the grains of sand still in the top of the hour glass were few, which made the call he’d received that morning from one of the nurses surprising.

“Your dad is more coherent than we’ve seen him in a long time. He keeps saying, ‘I need to see him now. Right away. I must tell him.’ But when we ask who ‘him’ is, he says he doesn’t know. We’re guessing it’s you.”

Cameron stood just inside the door, stared at the back of his dad’s graying head, and watched him study the business section of the paper as he’d done his whole life. Pouring over the stock charts to see who was up and who was crashing. Ready to steer Cameron’s economic choices down the straight and financially rewarding. His house and his healthy IRA were due to his father’s fiscal acuity and passion to share what he’d learned with Cameron. He sighed. There would be no more lessons on navigating the investment waters.

“Hey, Dad, how are you?” Cameron eased over to the windows and pulled open the beige curtains. Early May sunshine filtered through the emerald leaves on the maple tree outside and filled the room.

His dad sat next to the window in his dark blue leather chair, feet propped up and covered with the Washington Huskies slippers Cameron’s sister had bought him last Christmas.

“Well, I’m still alive. It’s so good to have you here. Now tell me again who you are …”

“It’s me, Cameron. Your son. You asked for me?”  He couldn’t help hoping the tumblers inside his dad’s mind had magically clicked back into place and he could have one last conversation where his dad knew him. Please?

His dad set aside the business section he’d probably read twenty times already that day and stuck out his hand. “Put ‘er in the vice, pal.”

Cameron took his dad’s hand and cried out in mock pain. “Ahhhhh, wow, you haven’t lost your strength, Dad.”

His dad smiled, a hint of water in his eyes. “You know, sometimes I look in the mirror and say, ‘Hey, you old buzzard, what are you still doing here?” His dad laughed, the sound like stones skipping on a pond.

“You’re not old.” Fifty-nine was not old. Certainly not old enough to have a disease that made Swiss cheese of his dad’s memories.

“We’ll be home before dinner at this pace.” His dad nodded. “Yep, we’re making good time.”

The familiar sadness, paper thin, tried to rise from Cameron’s heart and smother his mind, but he blocked it. He didn’t need the emotion. He didn’t need tears right now. There had been enough of those over the past six years to fill Puget Sound. “The nurses said you needed to see me.”

“Well, it is so very good to see you.”

“They said you needed to tell me something, Dad.”

His father lifted his glass of orange juice and toasted Cameron. “Have I told you how very proud I am of you?”

Cameron smiled, closed his eyes and let the words sink in. His dad used to say those words ten times an hour two years back, but the frequency had dwindled to almost nothing. It was a gift to hear the phrase again.

He glanced at the pictures on the walls. Family. Friends. His mom and dad playing tennis when they were first married. “Our lives are a collection of memories, don’t you think? So where have yours gone?”

“Well, I’m still here, looking at you, and I’m so glad you stopped by.”

Cameron stared into his dad’s eyes until his father looked away.

“Are they lost forever? Maybe when this life is through you’ll get them back. Maybe you’ll find them in whatever comes next.”

“Uh, huh.” His dad glanced around the room until his gaze settled on Cameron. “Well, I’m glad you’ve come by, but remind me again, how are we acquainted?”

“I’m just a kid that loves his dad with all his heart.”

“That’s good. Very good.”

Cameron scooted his chair closer. “I’m sorry, Dad. Sorry you have to go through this. I don’t think I could handle getting this disease of yours. I’d be tempted to end things early, you know? Did you ever consider it? At least you have your God thing going on, so you feel like you know where you’re headed.”

“God is good.”

“Yeah.” Cameron picked up the myrtle wood cribbage board that sat on the coffee table next to his dad’s chair. “We played a few hundred on this board didn’t we? Or was it a few thousand? I’d love to play one more game. Wouldn’t you?”

“We could play now if you like.”

“Should I set up the board?”

His dad grabbed Cameron’s hand and smiled wide. “And tell me, exactly what are we doing here today?”

“Talking. Just two guys hanging out together talking.”

“And you are?”

“The product of an awesome father.” Cameron set the board down, took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I wish your mind could come back for just one more conversation.”

Outside his dad’s room an orderly’s tennis shoe squeaked on the linoleum as she passed by. At the sound, his dad jerked his head up and his eyes cleared. “When it starts happening to you, you must find the days book, Cameron. Do you understand?”

Cameron raised his head. “What did you say?”

“When you start losing your memories, you must find the book. Everything will make sense to you then. Find it for me, will you? Promise me you’ll find it?”

“Are you with me here, Dad?” Cameron’s mind reeled.

Was his father lucid? The man’s eyes were clearer than he’d seen them in ages and his countenance said he was very much there.

“Did you know you can change the future, son? I saw it once. Not a real book of course. I even touched it, when I was a kid. Did you know that?” His dad rubbed his hands together and chuckled. “Of course you didn’t. I never told you that. I never told anyone. People would have thought I was crazy. But that doesn’t matter now.”

“What are you talking about? What is this book?”

“Do you understand? Find the book, Cameron.” His dad took Cameron’s face in his hands. “Did you hear me? The book of all days. Find it for me.”

He let Cameron’s face go and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hand.

Cameron shook his head as if it would cause his dad’s words make sense. Did his dad have any idea what he was saying? “Why do you think it will happen to me?”

“Not a question. It will happen. I know. I’ve seen it. I’m so sorry.”

Cameron blinked and a trickle of fear wound through his mind. He’d longed to talk to his dad again like he used to. But this? He wasn’t ready for a conversation out of Alice in Wonderland.

“What is the days book, Dad? Where would I find it?”

His father patted Cameron’s hands.

“What is this book? Where is this book?”

His dad grasped Cameron with both hands and nodded once. “You know what I love about us? We both have beautiful blue eyes.”

“What is the days book?” Cameron leaned in. “Where do I find it? Why do I need to find it?”

“You know what I love about us?” A smile lit up his dad’s face as he squeezed Cameron’s hands. “We both have beautiful blue eyes.”

“Stay with me, Dad. You just told me I’m going to start losing my memories like you, and about a book I have to find. Where is the book?”

“Well, we both have beautiful blue eyes you know.”

Cameron let his head fall back and he closed his eyes. It was over. No matter how hard he tried to massage the conversation back to this mysterious book and why his dad thought he’d would get the disease, it wouldn’t happen.

A few minutes later he let it go and told the story about the two of them skiing from nine in the morning till ten at night up at Steven’s Pass without any kind of a break. “Do you remember the next day? We couldn’t move!”

For the next half hour Cameron didn’t stop the tears when they pushed out and didn’t stop the laughter when his dad talked about some comical random event from decades back.

After the light outside his dad’s room had grown black, he slid his arms around his father and whispered in his ear, “I love you, Dad. Always have. Always.”

His dad held him for a moment, then patted Cameron on the back and took him by the shoulders, a wide grin on his face, moisture in his eyes.

A week later his dad was gone.

 

Copyright Jim Rubart. All rights reserved.