The Candyman

It was on this evening that Henry finally explained the thing with the candy.

"When I was a kid there was an elderly couple that lived down the street; Mr. and Mrs. Hall. He was a retired botanist who still grew plants for some of the local nurseries. His whole backyard was a big greenhouse.

"Anyway, he used to give out candy to the kids on the street. One piece a day, and somehow he always knew if you tried to come back on the same day. He didn't hold it against you but he didn't give you candy either.

"When Jess and I bought our old house, I started the same tradition, as best I could anyway. I still worked in the office full time back then. All the parents knew us by then so it wasn't a big deal. When I moved here, well, I wanted to do it again, to see their eyes light up just a little when they put something sweet into their mouths. I didn't even think about how it would look. I just knew it made me happy, even if just for a moment."

The evening at an end, Henry said his thanks to his hosts for a wonderful dinner and a nice night, and made the lonely trudge back to his empty house. As much as he appreciated what they were trying to do, it often made his own house (it wasn't really a home) feel even more empty when he got back. He took a shot of Jack to help him sleep then went to bed.

*****

Next up for the Sunday dinner treatment was Angela and Monty, and their 15-year old son, Mitchell, and 12-year old daughter, Rachel.

He liked Mitchell, who was very polite and helpful. He was tall and athletic. He played football but baseball was his first love, having just completed his freshman year in high school but on the varsity team.

Rachel was pretty but Henry found her to have something of an attitude; maybe that was just because she was 12. He had a wave of sadness hit him at the thought that Ari never got a chance to have a 12-year old attitude. He had to excuse himself for a few minutes, feigning the need to use the restroom.

Then it was Kristin and Chris, and their 7-year old son, Ryan. Henry had to fight to get through that one. Spending time with a boy that was the same age Eric had been when he died was almost more than he could handle, and a couple months ago he probably wouldn't have been able to. But he stuck it out as best he could, and again thanked his hosts for a fine meal and a nice evening.

Slowly but surely Henry worked his way around the neighborhood with the simple-sounding goal of getting him more integrated in the neighborhood. Each time the evening went well and he graciously thanked his hosts for their hospitality, complimenting the loveliness of their home and that beauty of their family. And each night he went home alone to his house. Usually he'd have at least one drink and as time wore on more and more drinks were consumed. He needed it to deal with the pain of being surrounded by loving, happy families, which made the loss of his own all the more profound.

There had been an exception. In the middle of it all was the meal he shared with Liz and Victor, their daughter Audrey, Victor's sister, Selma and her daughter, Marisela, and Liz's sister, Monique. While spending time with Audrey, who brought back memories of a younger Ariel, had its difficult moments, he had found he enjoyed the conversation with the family.

Monique and Selma were quite different, both physically and otherwise. Monique was very slim, probably weighing no more than 115 pounds, while Selma was very voluptuous and Rubenesque, with large breasts and a large, round behind. Monique wore jeans and a low-cut sweater, while Selma wore a frilly blouse and an ankle-length skirt. Monique was single and seemed to be something of a party girl, outspoken and brash, while Selma was quiet and seemed like more of the homebody-type. There was no mention of a husband so Henry assumed he was no longer on the picture.

Monique was 29 and seemed to revel in her singlehood. She talked a bit about some of the things she had done, and she was obviously proud of the number of men she had been with. She was nice enough but, like a lot of people, Henry found her to be a bit much.

Selma was more reserved, quiet and introspective. Henry thought more than once that she reminded him of Jessica. She didn't seem to like talking about herself any more than Henry liked talking about himself, and there was something of a battle of wills as they each tried to turn the topic of conversation to the other.

"How old is Marisela?"

"My angel is 8; almost 8 and a half."

"I find it hard to believe you're old enough to have an 8-year- old."

"You're very kind, but I'm 31. Plenty old to have an 8-year old."

Liz and Victor did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, practically dragging Monique the hell out of the living room so Henry and Selma could talk privately. Liz almost smacked her sister when Monique suggested that she thought getting laid would help solve Henry's depression.

"It always makes me feel better," Monique justified.

Liz and Victor were both thinking that even if nothing happened with Selma, connecting with other people was the key to bringing Henry around and beginning the healing process. Sure, he had friends at work and probably had people he considered friends back in his old neighborhood, but they were probably too much of a reminder of his old life. Liz would have to remember to let Cara know how well things were improving, at least to her.

And then it nearly all went off the rails.

Audrey and Marisela, who had been playing quietly in Audrey's bedroom most of the evening, came out to say good night after Liz had gone in and gotten them ready for bed. Marisela was having a sleepover and would be staying here tomorrow while her mom went to work.

She said her good nights to everyone, Henry included, but then her sympathetic nature and childish innocence took over, and with the best of intentions went to say one last thing to Henry.

"I'm sorry your family died, Mister Henry."

Selma's hand flew to her mouth in shock and a sudden quiet descended on the entire room. Liz and Monique were frozen, and even Victor, who always knew what to do, had no idea what to do. Henry, to his credit, gave no hint of the pain that the little girl's words had sparked. He didn't want her to be upset. So, he simply took her hands in his and spoke in as gentle and kind a voice as he could manage.

"Thank you, sweetie."

Selma looked at Henry and could see he was shaking. It was just a little but it was there, and he was really trying to keep it together for Marisela's sake. Liz got her wits about her and hustled the girls off to bed, and no sooner had they left the room than Henry stood up.

"I...should get going. Thank you for dinner."

He turned and headed for the door, but Selma managed to catch up with him before he got all the way out the door.

"Henry, I'm so sorry for what she said."

"It's okay, Selma," he said as he turned to face her. "She was just trying to be sweet. You have a beautiful little girl there. Thank you for the conversation. I had a nice evening."

"Me too. Thank you, too."

Henry managed a rueful smile as he turned and headed out the door and down the street to his lonely house. It took several drinks that night to get to sleep.

*****

Things went on like that for the next couple of months. Henry had managed to get through Sunday dinner with each of the families on the block, and had even spent some time at the summer barbecues, though there was still an obvious separation between he and these people that had been close friends for years. That was to be expected, and wasn't something that could be solved overnight.

Cara and David were the closest to him, mostly because Cara was determined to do everything she could to help him. She easily knew more about him than anyone else, and they had spoken on more than one occasion about Jessica, his kids, and...that night.

The barbecues had ended and school had begun once again. Weeknights were again filled with structure as the kids once again had homework and bedtimes, so socializing was mostly limited to the weekends.

David and Cara were having a small get-together on this particular Saturday. Marcus and Dylan were spending the day with their grandparents (David's folks) so they were organizing an adults-only get together. Nothing fancy; just a chance to drink a little more alcohol than they usually could and spend an afternoon and evening not having to worry about the kids.

Pam and Doug were coming over, 15-year-old Ashlynn more than capable of looking after herself, as were Angela and Monty, who'd left their own 15-year-old, Mitchell home alone while 12-year-old Rachel was having a sleepover at the house of a friend from school. She had invited Henry, thinking he might enjoy the smaller group, but he hadn't answered the invite.

As she was prepping the snacks she asked David to go on down to Henry's house and knock on the door to see if he'd come over. David, ever the dutiful husband, did just that, but not without making Monty and Doug go with him. No sooner had he knocked on the door than his phone rang. It was his wife.

"Is he coming?"

"Hang on, I just knocked on the door. All the lights are off and I don't see or hear anything. He may not be home."

"Is his car there?"

"Yeah, I saw it as we came up the driveway."

Cara suddenly had a very bad feeling.

"What day is it?" she asked Pam.

"Saturday."

"No, no, damn it, the date. What's the date?"

"The...uh...14^th. Why?"

"SHIT!"

Cara went running out the front door, screaming into her phone as she did, though David could probably hear her just as well without it. Pam and Angela exchanged looks of confusion before following her. They didn't know what was wrong but they would be there to help.

"DAVID, GET INTO THE HOUSE! BREAK IN IF YOU HAVE TO!"

"What? Cara, I'm not gonna..."

"IT'S THE SECOND FUCKING ANNIVERSARY OF THE ACCIDENT, DAVID! GET IN THE GOD DAMN HOUSE!"

Everyone was shocked; Cara never swore. The realization of Cara's meaning hit David like a bolt of lightning.

"Guys, we need to get in now!"

They didn't understand what was going on but David and Cara's insistence was enough for them. Monty tried just breaking through the front door but couldn't get it to budge. Doug found a largish rock in the flower bed near the door and used it to break one of the small windows next to the front door, then carefully reached around and unlocked the deadbolt. Six people flooded into Henry's entry.

They scoured the house and it was David that found the master bedroom first. Henry was on the bed with a picture of his family, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels, and three empty pill bottles. There was no way to know how many pills he had taken but he bet it was enough.

"In the bedroom! Call 911!"

Pam was on the phone immediately to summon help while Cara raced to the side of her husband as he tried to get some response out of the unconscious man laying prone on the bed.

"Henry, wake up, man, c'mon," he said as he gently, then more forcefully, smacked Henry on his cheeks, not knowing what else to do.

Doug checked for a pulse and found one, though it was faint. It seemed like forever had passed but it had likely only been a couple of minutes when they could hear the sirens start to pierce the air. Angela ran outside to direct the first responders where to go. It was city policy to dispatch fire, police and EMT's to every call. The fire department arrived first.

They ordered everyone to clear out and began first aid, doing so until the EMT's arrived shortly after the police car pulled in. The emergency vehicles blocked off Henry's house and the sirens had drawn the entire neighborhood out of their houses. The smaller kids were quickly sent back inside, their parents afraid of what might be happening.

Each of the adults in the house were interviewed and gave an explanation as to what happened. Finally, Henry was loaded up on a stretcher and wheeled out of the house and down the driveway to the waiting ambulance, which quickly pulled away.

"I'm going to the hospital," Cara told David, and he simply nodded, the plans for the afternoon quickly forgotten.

Cara sat in the waiting room. A more apt name had never been created. It was several hours before someone finally emerged to give an update, asking first if she was family. She was tempted to say yes but didn't know what problems that might create down the road.

"No. He doesn't have any family. Please, I just need to know if he's gonna be okay."

"Physically he should be okay. We had to pump his stomach, of course, and it's lucky you got to him when you did. He had easily taken enough pills. He'll be sore for a while, especially his throat from the pump and the stomach contents, but he should eventually recover fully. Emotionally, mentally, well, that's not my specialty but I suspect that'll be a much harder road."

"Can I see him?"

"They'll have him in a room in about an hour. I'll have someone let you know and you can go in, though he probably won't be conscious yet."

Cara ran home to take a quick shower and grab something to eat, noticing that David had already cleaned up the house and packed away the food that was being prepared. She gave him an update and asked him to let everyone know. And then she was out the door and back at the hospital. Fifteen minutes later a nurse let her know Henry was in his room and the doctor had cleared her to go in.

Cara stayed overnight, cleaning up as best she could in the hospital bathroom. There was no way she wasn't going to be there when he woke up unless it was absolutely impossible. She already had Angela set up to watch the boys if this spilled into the work week. The doctor had indicated that Henry's body had absorbed enough of the medications that he would probably be out for at least a couple of days, but Cara was there for the long haul.

It was Monday afternoon when she finally saw his eyes start to blink open. She just watched him for a few minutes as he realized where he was, and that his attempt had failed. She could see his body sag as he came to terms with the fact that he was still alive. Finally, his eyes settled on her, and she managed a small smile. He opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out, and the effort made him wince.

"Don't try to talk, Henry. Your throat is still sore and inflamed from the stomach pumping. Here, there's a dry erase board so you can communicate."

She handed him the board and the marker, and he immediately scribbled 'Why?' on it.

"They had to pump your stomach to get the pills out and that has to come out somewhere."

He shook his head. That wasn't what he meant, and he added to his note.

"Why did you stop me?"

"Henry, your family is waiting for you. You said yourself you can't get to them like this, and I won't allow you to not see them again. Not if I have anything to say about it."

He erased his board and wrote again.

"I can't take it anymore. Too much. Too hard."

"You can, Henry. You must. Ariel and Eric are counting on being with their daddy again one day. You have to have the strength for them, and for Jessica, too. Your time on earth without them might be hard, but imagine doing it for eternity."

The tears started to roll down Henry's face. Cara grabbed a tissue from the box next to the bed and wiped his face. She didn't care how inappropriate it might be; she climbed on to the bed and lay down next to him. He needed to be held, to be assured that somehow it would be okay, and that was the only way to do it.

Cara stayed the rest of the evening before Henry finally insisted she go back to her family. She agreed, then stepped out of the room for a few minutes. She came back in and sat down. Henry wrote on the board.

"I thought you were going home."

"I will, in a few minutes."

They sat quietly, with Cara making no real movement toward leaving and Henry continuing to wonder when she was leaving. It's not that he wanted to be rid of her, but he felt guilty keeping her from her own family, her own life.

When his door opened he finally understood. In walked Kalina with a small bag that suggested she was planning to stay for a while. Cara had been waiting for her replacement. Henry shook his head, trying to object to taking his friends from their families. He reached for his board but Cara stopped him.

"Too bad, Henry. We're your friends and we're not going to let you be here alone. I've already got volunteers and you're just going to have to accept it, unless you want to tell the staff to bar us from visiting. I can't stop you from doing that. Please let us take care of you."

Henry pondered it and finally surrendered, nodding his head that it was okay.

"Good. Kalina's on the shift for tonight, obviously. I've got others lined up for the next couple of days. They're keeping you here for observation, both for your stomach and throat and...well, for your emotional health. Standard protocol after a suicide attempt, even though I think it's a waste of time since you won't be trying this again, will you?"

Henry shook his head.

"Good. I'll try to stop by tomorrow."

Cara kissed him on the forehead before saying goodbye to him and Kalina and making her way out of the room.

*****

Henry didn't sleep well, though that wasn't anything new. He still had nightmares but they weren't as intense. He assumed the drugs the hospital had given him were responsible for that. At times throughout the night he could see Kalina sleeping on the reclining chair in the corner. He was very thankful for the friends he had made here, even if accepting their help made him feel like a burden. He was glad he had decided to stay, that sign in his yard long gone and mostly forgotten.

He must have drifted off, because the next he knew it was morning. He glanced into the corner and Kalina's things were gone but there was a new bag there now, so someone must have replaced her. He wondered who.

That question was answered 10 minutes later when Selma came walking into the room. She was carrying a cup of coffee (or something in a Styrofoam cup anyway) and what looked like a breakfast sandwich of some kind.

"Oh good, you're awake. Sorry, I got hungry so I ran down to the cafeteria. Do you need anything?"

Henry grabbed his board.

"Why are you here?"

Selma's face fell.

"If you'd rather someone else sat with you I can call Cara."

Henry shook his head strongly. That wasn't what he meant at all. He was glad she was here, but unlike the couples that lived on the street she was a single mom and he was worried about her losing pay to sit here with him.

"You're a single mom. Need to work."

"I have plenty of sick hours and vacation. They've actually been bugging me to use some of them so I did. Cara asked for volunteers and I volunteered. You're sure it's okay?"

"I'm really glad you're here. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said as she smiled at him. "I'm just glad you're okay. I haven't had a chance to really get to know you yet."

She pulled a chair closer to the side of the bed so they could see each other better. That Henry thought she was pretty wasn't surprising. What was surprising was that he was aware of it. He hadn't had that thought about a woman since the accident. He saw beautiful women every day at work but that they were beautiful never occurred to him. With Selma, it did.

"What about Marisela?"

"Liz is going to take care of her. Get her from school, do homework, feed her, the whole thing. Believe me, she won't miss me a bit. A sleepover at Aunt Liz's house is her Holy Grail."