Tony

The Marlboro Thermos

The boy sat on the curb, package in hand, waiting for the rusty Ford Rambler to rupture the stillness of the trailer park, with its rattletrap muffler hanging low and grating against each speed bump as it lumbered down the driveway. He stared at the bent and twisted cigarettes butts scattered everywhere. He knew his grandfather had tossed them there; he was the only one who smoked on this side of the park.
###The old man approached in the old car, the boy sat still. He didn’t want to think the words that the doctor might have said today. All he could think about was their shared birthday. All he wanted was to give him the package, ride out to the old metal bridge, and throw rocks into the water with the old man. The car leaped abruptly to a hesitant stop and the old man hollered,
### “ Are you going to get in or what?”
### “Yeah I’m coming, hold your horses, this door’s still sticking”
### “Just wiggle the little dealy-bob and it works fine” muttered the old man.
###He wiggled the handle and opened the door, sliding into the Marlboro tinged fog. The grey smoke blended with the sallow grey sky, merged into the sallow gray man sat in the drivers seat. For a moment it looked eerily like a black and white movie.
###The window was rolled down, as the old man tried to reposition his oxygen tank and lean on the armrest to blow the smoke out of the window. He held the cigarette in his left. The boy had religiously collected every “Marlboro mile” coupon and then sent them off for this package. He quickly handed it to the old man,
### “Here I got you this.”
###The old man tore open the package and when he saw the Marlboro thermos bawled
### “What do I need a thermos for? That’s about as useful as tits on a bull!”
He saw the boy’s crestfallen face and slapped his knee,
### “I guess now I got somewhere to flick my ashes when I’m driving around.”, he mumbled at the boy.
###He stared long and hard at the Marlboro thermos sat it beside him. The air in the Rambler was oppressive. The old man turned to The boy, his eyes red and tired.
### “Before I give you your present, promise me something boy!”
### “Promise you what?”
### “Promise me you ain’t never gonna start smoking these goddam things.”
### “I ain’t never gonna smoke”, the boy stated sternly.
### “ yeah I know you say that now...just listen. Just promise that you’ll never ever smoke! Ever.”
### “I hate smoking, I wish you would quit! It’s gonna kill you...”
### “Yeah, I will quit one day, but not today. Any ways look what I got for you.”
###The old man got out of the car and opened the trunk and then came back and flopped a droopy-eared white puppy with a red patch on his left eye. The pup saw the boy and wiggled free from the old man, who burst into a new round of coughing.
###The red and white pit bull puppy jumped into the boys lap, licking his face.
### “You got to take care of him, and remember no smoking son, promise me.” The boy held the pup and nodded.
###The night the old man died, he buried his face into his dogs neck, he smelt like cigarette smoke and old spice. He licked the boys tear stained cheeks as he lay quietly sobbing on the bed in that tiny attic room. He knew it was coming, the coughing, the choking and always gasping for air. There was always a cloudy silence after the doctor’s visits. His mother opened the bedroom door and said,
### “You’re worthless granddad’s dead”
His mother closed the door and just left him there. To here his mother say it like that though tore him up.
###After the memorial his mom handed the ceramic urn and the flag to the boy. She grimaced and said that she did not want “it” anywhere near her clean house.
### “Take “it” out somewhere and dump it in the woods”, she said.
### “He’s not an it, he’s my grandfather”
### “Then get him out of this house!”
###He slammed the door and ran with the urn towards the old mans place, his dog at his heel. His eyes were caked with tears and dust. In his haste he tripped over the last speed bump and saw the urn glisten in the sunlight as it arced and smashed on to the road.
###The boy stood up stared at the broken urn with the ashes spilled into piles around its shattered pieces. The dry summer sky, windless and humid, left the ashes untouched where they’d fallen. The dog nuzzled his bare legs. He doubled his fists and screamed at the top of his lungs, “I promise, grandpa…I promise”.
###He wiped the tears from his eyes and saw the Rambler sat silent. He opened the door and saw the Marlboro thermos lying on the floorboards next to the oxygen tank. He grabbed it and walked back to where the dog stood guard over the old man’s remains. He gently swept up the ashes and let them sift through his hands into the thermos.
###The boy walked down the road, red and white Marlboro thermos in hand; filled to the brim with the old mans ashes. He and the dog would walk to the bridge today. The still heat of the summer was breaking into understandable droplets of rain on his cheeks, washing away the twisted cigarette butts and the remaining ashes of the only man he would ever love.