Installment 3

It was five in the morning when Jake was startled awake by the phone ringing. The sun was just beginning to rise. He recognized the voice of Margaret, Walter’s nurse on the line. “I’ve been with Walter since last night . . .” her voice trailed off, “It’s not looking good, and he says he wants to see you.” Jake felt his stomach turn inside out. He wanted to run as fast has he could to Walter’s side, but at the same time, he wanted to stay in bed and wait for the world to go away. He pulled his clothes on, and stepped out into the dewy morning.

Jake held his breath as he knocked on the back door to Walter’s house. He half expected to see the old man open the door, cigar in hand. Margaret’s face appeared, and Jake could see the bags under her eyes weighing on her smile. “He’s in the bedroom,” she whispered quietly. Jake stepped over the threshold and made his way down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the rug below. A glow was coming from the bedroom, and Jake rapped gently on the door before entering.

He spotted Walter’s face; it looked so small floating in the double bed. “You know I’m not a religious man, Jake - - but thank God you came,” Jake heard the familiar sound of Walter’s raspy voice. As Jake approached the bed, he was shocked by the gray color of Walter’s face, and suddenly thought of the ash and smoke of his cigars. “Margaret, please - - you should take a rest while we talk. Jake will wake you up if anything happens,” Walter spoke to Margaret, who had been standing in the doorway. She didn’t object, and closed the door on her way out.

“Jake, I’ve put you in my will. You can have the house. I don’t have any children, and no one visits me - - except for you. You’re the best I’ve got.” Jake was silent as Walter went on, “I don’t mind if you sell the house when you’re done with it. Put the money to good use; you deserve it more than I do.”

“Thank you,” whispered Jake.

Suddenly, Walter’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m such a coward, Jake. I thought that I would at least be able to confess on my death bed, but I’m too ashamed.” He forced out a remorseful laugh through his tears, “I’m even ashamed that I am ashamed! Listen carefully, Jake. It sounds ridiculous now that I have to say this, but I left you clues. Clues to the past that haunts my dreams. Jake, you have to promise me that you’ll follow them. Promise me that you’ll figure them out and still respect me when you know everything. Promise me you won’t hate me,” Walter began to sob.

“I promise, Walter. No matter what, you were a good man to me,” Jake held Walter’s hand and looked him in the eye. He saw a man who was unable to unburden himself.

“Michael Glosham. That’s your first clue. Please just follow the clues. I’m so sorry. I’m just so sorry,” Jake had never seen such a strong man become so weak.

Soon Walter lost his energy, and could no longer speak or cry. Jake looked on as the man slept, though there was no peace in the deep wrinkles of his forehead. That evening, Walter passed on. Jake watched the sun set over the water and behind the mountains as night fell. He cried in frustration, realizing that the stars lit his way, but confused him in a maze of constellations.