Arizonian Pride

Arizonian Pride Chapter 5

"C'mon, everyone! Gather round, the party's about to start!" Susan Whitercoll cried out from the living room. She checked the giant banner that read "Welcome New Residents of the Whitercolls' Texan Old Folk's Home!" to make sure that it is still hanging tautly above the dining table.

Residents, visitors, managers and family members of managers alike were invited. It took a while, but the elderly residents managed to all scramble excitedly downstairs as best as their old feet could carry them. The Whitercolls children were equally thrilled, hurrying down at least three times faster than the grown-ups. Randy, naturally, was the least enthused among the crowd, but he reluctantly showed up anyway after some persuasion from Melvin Whitercoll.

Serafina squealed with delight when she saw boxes and boxes of wrapped presents on one table at one corner of the living room. She ran to her mother.

"Mommy, are any of these presents for me? How about Chelsea or Raymond or Malachi? Can I open just one of them? Pleeeeease?"

"I'm sorry, honey," Susan cooed over a bowl of low-sugar cookie batter. "I'm afraid those presents are for the old folks only. There is nothing fun for young children over there."

"Awww," Serafina frowned, disappointed.

"Why don't you go see what your sister and brothers are doing? They might want to join in on, who knows, a game or something? We've got plenty of games prepared for this party, you know."

"A game? Cool! Yay!" Serafina returned to her usual cheerful self once again and bounced off to find her siblings, eager to do anything fun.

The party went on without much hassle. Dinner was simple but delicious. Malachi ate easily and comfortably, knowing that there are no non-halal pieces or ingredients used in any of the dishes prepared by his open-minded, accepting family. After dinner, unwrapping presents began. Most of the old folks uncovered many old mementos, pictures, DIY-crafts and random, useful knick-knacks in their presents. Each of them smiled happily as they showed off their new (or old) items to one another. Then the music came on and the able-bodied old folks danced like it was the Disco Era all over again. Every corner of the Old Folk's Home was merry and somewhat noisy, except in Randy's room.

Hmm, it has been a while since a single sound came out from Randy's room. Melvin decided to check up on him.

"Hey, Randy," Melvin called out to the veteran, climbing up the stairs. "Are you enjoying the party so far?" The eldest of the Whitercolls suddenly stopped at the door left ajar and gasped.

"Hic! Ah'm enjoyin' it as much as an ole forgotten veteran like me can enjoy it, laddie! Ah'm - hic! - livin' up the last few years of me life, ah am! Live, live, live before ah rot and die in this stuffy ole place far, far away from home. Home schweet h-home…… hic!"

Melvin stood in silence, hand over his mouth, as he slowly took in the sight before him. Randy's hair, clothing and facial expression were beyond tidy nor approachable. He was crouching-s***h-squatting in an awkward position on the floor by his bed, unsure whether to stand up or sit down. As he rambled on, he waved an almost-empty glass bottle of liquor recklessly in the air, as if wanting to smash it but not having enough guts to. Melvin rushed over and grabbed it out of his hands before he hurt himself.

"Randy, are you ok? You… don't look very sober."

"Hic! Whaddya expect when you put free bottles of beer in front of a grumpy old man whose favourite place in the world is gone from the face of earth? Whaddya think will happen, huh? What? Tell me!" Randy's tone of voice grew harsher and harsher as he spoke. Melvin rubbed his chin.

"Gee… it must be hard for you. I… I’m so sorry, Randy."

"Words of shympathy ain't gonna cut it now, laddie," Randy lisped. "It won't help that ah don't wanna be here in the first place! Ah'm stuck here with no way out while those government punks are busy bulldozin' me ranch to the ground!"

Tears began to spill from Randy's eyes as he rasped out his last sentence. Melvin, being the emphatic elder in his family, knelt down gently in front of Randy.

"Randy, you can share everything with me. I acknowledge that it must be very tough for you up to this point. Just... just let it all out - it's good for an old soul."

The poor drunken veteran staggered for a moment. Usually, Randy is one who would watch his drinking limits very closely at social events, as rarely as he attends them, to avoid making a fool of himself and becoming the butt of others' jokes. But with the recent turn of events, he couldn't care less anymore.

"This old soul has been through so, so much these few years. Me Arizonian Archaeology Club had jush made a big dishcovery on the site of Josiah, you know, that turquoise mine out there. Me bossh and me best friend O' Malley LOVED wearing turquoise jewelry; says it reflects hish Native American heritage. Whatever we found underground, we display it in our offices and branches nationwide, but dear O' Malley would personally craft and customise some o' our findings and let me have 'em as a token of our friendship. Ya see this ring?" Randy held up a finger. "It's me favourite turquoise ring that ah got from 'im on me 65th birthday."

Melvin nodded quietly as he looked at the ring. "It's pretty."

"Now this O' Malley is one who ah'd be leavin' behind - hic! - when ah retired from me club not too long ago. All me memories of him - pictures, photos, jewelry, artifacts… you name 'em, ah got 'em! All them memories ah keep at me ranch - GONE because a' them snivellin' lil' punks who want me land fer who-knows-what!”

"Gosh…" Melvin gasped.

"Yeah! O' Malley and me club are some of the ONLY things ah'll truly treasure as ah lie dyin' on mah deathbed! There ain't gonna be no other friend like O' Malley, and there ain't gonna be no other club like the Arizonian Archaeology Club!" Randy cried with full sentimentality.

Melvin's heart went out to the poor sobbing veteran. He wrapped Randy in a big, warm embrace. "I-I'm so sorry you had to see the best things in your life go down with your ranch. I totally understand how that feels like."

"HIC! ONLY OLD POTATOES LIKE YOU UNDERSTAND MEEEEE!" Randy wailed. He hiccuped again and sniffed. "I love potatoes."

Melvin chuckled. "Me, too." He let go of Randy. "Hey, I know you may not have the motivation to do this at the moment, but your life isn't over yet, Randy. Okay, so you've retired from your old job and left your best friend and most favourite person in the world behind, but you still have the chance to make new memories with new people, in a new place!"

Randy sniffed and looked up at Melvin. "New memories? New people?"

"YES, you heard me right. And now that you're living here with us, this would be the perfect point in your life to start over. Here and now."

"Ah can't, mate. Ah'm schtill too hung-up over the past to do anything…..." And Randy proceeded to open another bottle of beer with numb, shaking hands.

Melvin sighed, unable to think of any new advice. "Well, at least you can admit it."

Randy put the bottle to his mouth and took in a few huge gulps of good, good, good liquor. Melvin sat up on the bed and watched him sadly.

"Say, Randy, do you wanna know something new? Something that no one else has ever told you before?"

Randy put his bottle down. "What?"

Melvin looked out the door and made sure no one was within earshot. Clear. He closed and locked the door, knelt down in front of Randy again, and spoke in a very soft voice.

"There is a hidden safe on the wall behind the table in the room that William and Susan use as their main office. The combo is 66255. No one outside this family knows this, not even the other old folks who live here. I reckon you may find something interesting in there, or something that may even answer all the burning questions you've been having since Day 1."

"Hic! Ah'll check it out foirst chance ah get, hic!" Randy slurred. He then closed his eyes and fell backwards onto the floor, unconscious, nearly knocking over his unfinished bottle of beer and spilling its contents.

Melvin sighed. He knelt there quietly for a moment. Randy's gonna be lucky if he can remember all that was just told to him the next morning while nursing a hangover. Melvin picked Randy up from the ground and laid him gently in his bed.

Before leaving the room, Melvin turned off the lights and looked at Randy one last time.

"G'night, Randy," he whispered. " 'Been a great party."