Albert
There is a loud moan inside a home on the ground floor of an old suburban apartment-complex. Albert screams out in pain, as he desperately grabs a hold of everything within his reach, in a third, but successful attempt to get out of his bed. He broke his back a couple of years ago while working as a mailman. He failed in an attempt to jump over a little white picket fence. Although recovered, back pain, like a hundred nails getting shoved deep inside his spine, comes to haunt him more than every now and then.
There is no cure, except taking morphine-pills. But when the pain comes, even with the pills, it’s like a downward spiral destroying all hope of a normal life on its path. Albert spends most of his time mindlessly watching TV, or listening to classical music, anything from the baroque period. He turns fifty-five today and he’s celebrating it alone. Not even his ex-wife is coming. Since the accident he’s unable to perform as a man, and his mood swings make him an impossible person to share life with. On his dresser stands a birthday card which she does religiously sent to him every year.
The Call
It’s a beautiful sunny day. Albert sits in front of his window and sees three boys playing with marbles on the sidewalk, unknowingly making beautiful memories. Little psychological treasures that will raise a smile, and carry them throughout the inescapable heartache, depression, or other countless challenges that embraces everyone’s life sooner or later. Just when Albert is about to enter a daydream his phone rings, abruptly ending his foggy state of mind: “Hello, Albert speaking.”
“Hey, dude, A-one mayday, man!”
Albert recognizes the voice and its slang right away. It’s Charles Wilskinn, his lifelong pal wishing him a happy birthday.
Charles Wilskinn is fifty-three years old, and the lead guitarist of the grunge band Shabby. He has long hair, thick beard and wears old, worn out clothes. He feels comfortable in his costume, he’s the only band member that doesn’t change into his normal clothes after a gig. He tours throughout Europe for most of the year. The ultimate bachelor, a female magnet. Sex, Drugs, Rock&Roll and Charles. One is never without the other.
“Thank you, Charlie. How are you doing?”
“I’m awesome, man! In two weeks we’re in town, you’re coming, right?”
“Yeah, sure. It’s been a long time. Did you get them to change band’s name into the Chick-Magnets yet?”
“Ha, I tried, they didn’t go for it! Besides it is stating the obvious, right?”
“Well, you got me there, Charlie.”
Charles hesitates for a second before he asks Albert if he has heard anything from Willy.
Charles, Willy and Albert. Annette (Willy’s wife) calls them the Three Musketeers. Willy Burst is fifty-four years old, works for an insurance company. He, Annette and their two daughters live downtown, and belong to the upper-class. Willy is conservative, responsible, and takes great care of his health, he is found in the gym at least ten hours a week.
“Sorry, Charlie. Willy and I talk on the phone regularly, but he is still very pissed off at you.”
Charles slams his fist on the table, knocking over a vase: “Damned, I should’ve never told him that my ‘stolen guitar’ was not stolen at all, he’s such a crusader.”
“Are you okay, Charles, I heard something break?”
“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m in my hotel room.”
“Why did you tell him in the first place, Charlie? You know how he is.”
“Because he’s my friend, and I cannot lie to him, not for long anyway, I forgot about that.”
“He could’ve pressed charges, Charlie.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve put him in a terrible position. I’m just stupid, you know?”
What Would Willy Want?
Albert ends the call with the promise that he will get Willy to come to the concert. He grabs his coat and leaves for Willy. He has a bad feeling about the conversation with Charles. This isn’t the first time the two were fighting with each other. About ten years ago Charles suddenly kissed Annette at a party. Willy almost lost it, and if the two weren’t too drunk to fight, things would have gotten very ugly. Annette spend that night in Albert’s bed, Albert slept on the couch. He was the middle man in successfully bringing the friends back together.
He’s feeling increasingly uncomfortable now, and cannot shake off the quarrel between his friends. This could very well be the final blow to their friendship. They haven’t seen each other in years, the last time they were together was six years ago when they helped Albert carry his belongings, when he moved to an apartment at ground level, because of his back. Albert has arrived in the street where Willy lives. The street looks cleaner than where he lives, and not one house is the same as the other. A man walking with his little white dog gives him a look like Albert is from another planet.
Well, he might as well be, in his gray sweatpants, white t-shirt with yellow stains under the armpits and uncombed hair, he definitely stands out from the resident in his dark brown boat shoes, red chino’s, with a blue vest, loosely worn over his creamed-colored polo with a little man on a little horse embroidered on the chest, arrogance had never looked better. When Albert arrives at Willy’s villa he knocks on a big, dark brown door using an iron handle that comes out of a lions mouth.
Crossing Fingers
A couple of seconds later a large shouldered man opens the door: “Albert, my boy, what a pleasant surprise. Come in!”
Albert feels terrible out of place in this setting of Marble floors, oak doors, a fire place in the middle of the room with several openings, so it can be enjoyed wherever you are in the house, and windows that reach from the ceiling to the floor, covering the entire wall on the garden side of the house.
No, the only thing Albert feels comfortable about is, Willy. His pal from the good old days, when they both wore torn up jeans, and secretly smoked cigarettes on their way back home from school.
“Albert, sit down, please?”
“No, I better stay on my legs, otherwise I’ll never get up again, and I’ll be stuck in this house forever.”
Willy smiles: “Yeah, that would be a real punishment, right?”
“Look, Will, I got a call.”
Willy stands with his hand leaning against the gray stones above the fire place: “Who called?”
Albert explains that Charles wants them to come to the gig next week, and that he feels terrible about what happened, and that it’s his fault and so on. Willy doesn’t want to hear it. But Albert knows Willy’s weak spots like no other. He starts talking about that time when Charles took Willy to the hospital with his strained ankle, and when the three of them were so drunk that he couldn’t drive home anymore.
Annette shouted through the phone: “Bunch of old fools!” when Willy called her to ask her if it was okay if he could sleep over at Albert’s, as he giggled like a schoolgirl while peeing in his pants. After a couple of minutes Albert has soften Willy up, and he agrees to make things right. They will go to the concert together. Albert says goodbye and walks out the door with a big smile on his face.
Annette and the End of the Three Musketeers
Annette walks with a bouquet of flowers alongside a tall hedge that separates the rest of the world from what’s on the inside. She walks through a large black cast-iron gate onto the sealed off area. Every main path has medium sized birch trees on the side, peacefully guiding you to wherever you need to be. A slumberous atmosphere permanently haunts the place where Annette meets every Sunday without ever having to make an appointment.
Annette Burst became a widow exactly five years ago, after a fatal car crash that also killed Willy’s best friend Charles Wilskinn. Willy and Charles were on their way to celebrate Albert’s fiftieth birthday. Annette places the flowers on Willy’s grave, and smiles as she conjures up various beautiful memories they’ve made together, also because of the balance she has found the day she made peace with the fact that: things just are the way they are. She kneels and puts one hand on Willy's grave.
Out of the corner of her eye, Annette sees someone walking away. It's Albert. He's slowly walking down the long main path, which leads to the gate of the cemetery. Annette stares at the walking shadow of the man he ones was—poor Albert. He felt responsible for the death of his two best friends, started drinking. It got so bad that he was hospitalized for years, because of delusions and psychosis. She hasn’t talked to him for a long time and decides to follow Albert, to have a chat, and to ask if perhaps he would like to join her for a cup of coffee.
The Doors
At the moment Annette rushes out of the gate, she hears tires screeching. She sees Albert crossing the street and getting hit by a moving-van. His body is thrown several meters through the air and lands on the cold stones, right in front of the gates to the cemetery. Annette screams and runs towards Albert’s body. She sits on her knees and puts one hand on Albert’s chest: “Stay with me, Albert. Stay with me.”
Albert opens his eyes and sees the blue cloudless air. He closes his eyes. When he opens them again he expects to see air, but it remains black this time.
The man in the moving-van stays frozen inside his vehicle, and he looks as white as a ghost. An ambulance with howling sirens races towards the scene of the accident. It arrives within minutes and a paramedic runs to Albert’s body, but it’s immediately clear. The paramedic looks over his shoulder at his colleague and shakes his head.
The pain in his mangled body fades away, and Albert dies on the streets of his hometown while Annette holds his hand. A couple of seconds later Albert gets up and walks unknowingly passed his own body to the sidewalk. He is greeted by his two friends, Willy and Charles.
Albert cries out: “Is it really you, guys?”
Willy nods and puts his arm around him: “How is your back pain?”
“What back pain?”
Charles makes a head movement to the end of the street, and that’s where the Three Musketeers start walking towards.
The friends quietly walk down the street together, only to dissolve into nothingness at the very end of it, or into everything, it depends on which side you’re on. At the end of the street, three boys are playing with their marbles. One of them stares to the end of the street with his mouth wide open: “Did you guys see that?”
Another one looks up: “See what? Those guys that walked right passed us, they've disappeared.”
The two boys get up: “What guys?”
One kid puts his arm around the staring boy: “Come on, lets play! Come on, Albert!”
Closing Words
You know how sometimes you see someone, and it feels like you've known that person for years? Is it possible that the soul is so strong that it can carry two bodies, so complex it can live two separate lives at the same time? There are millions of unanswerable questions in our universe. One thing is for sure: little Albert ain’t dead, and neither is the friendship between the boys, for them it’s just the beginning. Lets leave. Let them play so they can build the memories that one day will fill their hearts with love when the time comes when all they’ll have left is a smile.