Friday, February 24, 2012

Bathroom Monologue: On the Deathbed of Carl Rudolph

A man in a brown suit and burgundy tie appeared at the door. He held a tidy briefcase. Rudolph squinted at him from his tangle of plastic tubes and bed sheets.

Brown Suit asked, “Are you Carl Rudolph?”

“You’re late if you want to sue me.” He smiled crookedly. “I’m done with lawyers.”

“This isn’t litigation, Mr. Rudolph.” Brown Suit strode across the hospital room, retrieving a manila envelope from his briefcase. “I’m here on behalf of the estate of Neal Jennings. He left a proviso to deliver this letter on your... well.”

“Jennings did that? What did he want that he didn’t have thirty years ago?”

“I don’t know, sir. No one has read the contents. His will is quite specific.” Brown Suit handed over the envelope. It slid through Rudolph’s arthritic fingers and rested on his chest. He looked at it with half-lidded eyes.

“Did he specify you wear such hideous fashion?”

“In fact, he did.” Brown Suit snapped his briefcase closed. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Rudolph.”

He left Rudolph to watch the envelope rise and fall on his ribs, following his breathing. It was address-side up, made out to him in big, blocky letters.

“So I could read it if my eyes went, Jennings?”

He prodded the envelope. It was several pages thick inside. What on earth had Jennings written?

“The last word. You knew full well I couldn’t rebut you this way.”

What would that word be? More of Jennings’s theosophy? Pleading that it was actually God in the details and that holding hands would solve it all? Urging him to go dunk his head in an Indian river before he died? To donate to some charity that was probably corrupt?


Or they could be pages of remembrance. All the Trotskyist political arguments, and the absinthe that made them worthwhile. The continental train ride to a lecture they skipped out on halfway through. Walking into a London hotel room to ask if they could check out of this bore already, only to find Jennings checking into the maid who would become his second wife.

The women. Goodness, the women. Just thinking about all that collective suppleness stiffened parts of Rudolph that had been medicated numb for weeks.

He pressed the tip of his middle finger on the center of the envelope. It was damnably thick.

Would Jennings have sentimentalized so much about gilded times? What if he had confessions? The rotten investments he’d tried to hide. Rudolph had forgiven him decades ago, but how bitter would it taste to read Jennings apologizing for it now?

Or finally calling Rudolph for plagiarizing him in his second book. Jennings had never exposed him. Would he sue him from the grave and steal the inheritance of his grandchildren?

“They never visit anyway. Still…”

What else was there to reveal?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Goodness, I hope he doesn’t come out as gay. We were….”

An acrid pain between his ribs reminded him. Decades ago he could have worried about what was in envelopes, but not anymore. Be it a lawsuit, an answer or love letter, there wasn’t time.

His hands didn’t work like they used to. He peeled open the envelope’s seal with the first knuckles of his index fingers, then shook out the papers onto his chest.

There they were: five in all.

Rudolph lifted the first. He saw no words.

He held it closer to his face. No, nothing typed or in Jennings’s chicken scratches. It was blank.

He shuffled through the papers. Every one was blank, back and front. Had Jennings padded it to look ominous, then left no omens?

No. The last page wasn’t blank. There were two lines of text in the very middle. They read:

See you in a minute.



  1. Thank you. I was second guessing you all the way and was only nearly right.

  2. Oh loved that ending! The old man had a sense of humour after all! ^_^

  3. I was waiting for "Tag. You're it!"

    Great story.

  4. Kept wondering what was in the envelope. *evil snicker*

  5. I suspect that Rudolph spent most of his life worrying about what might be and that Jennings lived his life, albeit 30 years shorter, more fully.

  6. It was a great payoff, but I actually rather liked the way his mind ran with all the possibilities in loads of different directions, revealing his own fears and thoughts

    marc nash

  7. That's a heck of a long way to go in order to tell a joke. I approve.

  8. That was great! Loved the humor in/for the final moments of them both. All that second guessing. I hope Rudolph died laughing.

  9. Ha ha... Loved that.. Should think the effort of opening the envelope was what finished him off..x

  10. Wonderful short this week John..There's something very Scottish about the humour in this tale. I can see my Father doing that to me!

    There's an unfaltering confidence in the flow of your writing..along with a consistent voice that resonates throughout all of your work .. Therein lies the key to great writing.. so great in fact, I reckon you should try next week's in Spanish.. just to keep things on an even keel (mind you, you're probably brilliant in L2 as well!!) ..

  11. That Jennings guy has a wonderful sense of timing. :)

  12. That was a great ending, I love it! I loved what it showed about their friendship.

  13. This really made me smile. Loved the old guy, and your writing drew me right in I forgot I was reading a story. Thanks! Peace...

  14. Jennings got the last laugh. I like how the misdirection casts spotlights onto the past.

  15. Damn John. Spare, perfectly described AND FUNNY. You never ever let me down. xx

  16. Great character sketch, John, and exploration of a lifelong friendship. And, of course, great punchline. =)

  17. "All the Trotskyist political arguments, and the absinthe that made them worthwhile."
    This is certainly the best line of the week John. Not just yours. The best line I'll read all week. You always deliver great writing and it's gems like these which make it shine.

  18. "See you in a minute" can be quite ominous too, but from what you tell us about Jennings he went out of his way to make sure his friend smiled just before he went.

    And I echo the comments above, great work as well.

  19. Love that Jennings. The simplest of sentences to be fresh in his old buddy's mind at the last.

  20. Oh I loved that. I guess he left the contents up to his imagination after all. Wonderful.

  21. Did he know Jennings that well,after all? Loved how you showed their past history via his musings..Great ending.

  22. Oh that was brilliant...What a practical joke to play on your mate and at such a moment. Loved it.

  23. "He left a proviso to deliver this letter on your... well.” Kind of told me where this was going, not that it mattered. Some really great lines in here, including that punch.

    Nice work, John.

  24. The punchline was fun, but it was the character sketching that I liked the best and the sense of age and history between the two characters.


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