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The expensive liquor no longer burned his throat. The bitter taste from the pills dissipated. His grainy eyes no longer wept. His mind clouded with images of his late wife, Robin, who, before she had reached her end, no longer recognized his face. He then knew the impossibility of living without her.

Hopelessness and loneliness consumed his inner soul. Life became an empty shell in which he hid. Away from his son and daughters. Away from his family. Away from his friends and neighbors. But most importantly, away from himself.

For Joe accepted he had no future. Only memories of the past. A past that slipped away far out of reach.  

As he lay alone, he grasped the St. Joseph medal he wore devotedly for years. In his jumbled mind, it seemed that even his faith deserted him.

And in his search for permanent relief of unending anguished misery, Joe succumbed and allowed inevitable darkness to creep in and silently extinguish his inner light.

~~

The seventy-three-year-old man hummed his favorite tune as he walked the dirt-covered road. The warm summer breeze flowed through his thinned gray hair. The faded t-shirt and worn jeans hung from his tall, lanky frame. Slung across his shoulder was a battered backpack.

The sun shone down upon him and the endless fields of wavy green grass. But as he rounded a curve, a copse of oak trees appeared out of nowhere. 

Startled by the instant change in scenery, Joe stopped to admire the trees. Along the tree line, he noticed a car off to the side with an open hood.

Without hesitation, he moved quickly to get a closer look. A huge smile spread across his face. Suddenly, images of a classic silver car fluttered through his mind, only to be instantly swept away.

“Wow! I haven’t seen one like this…” Joe inched toward the vintage car.

All at once, an old man stepped out from under the hood. His wrinkled face was smudged with grease. His white mustache matched the white hair that lay sparingly across his spotted scalp. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses on his pointed nose. The tan short-sleeve buttoned shirt hung out of the worn brown work pants.

“Howdy!” He extended a dirty hand. “I’m Jim.”

Joe shook Jim’s hand. “I’m Joe.” He stared at the man. “Say…do I know you?”

Jim chuckled, then released Joe’s grip. “It’s possible.”

Immediately, Joe’s attention returned to the car. “Nothing compared to the Ford Thunderbird, 292 – cubic inch, V8, with 193 horsepower…” He rattled on and on as he ran his hand along the dusty side panels until he stopped on the unique tailfin.

“You know your cars, son.” Jim smiled.

Joe gave a slight nod. “I worked at Ford for over fifty years. I could build a t-bird in my sleep.” He crossed his arms.

“You worked at a Ford plant?” Jim scratched his head.

Joe glanced over at the old man. “I did.”

Jim took a step closer. “Memories. Are they coming and going?”

Joe blinked several times. His mind blanks once again. “Why…why can’t I remember?”

Jim let out a huge sigh. “It’s one of the many things…unexplainable.” He leaned against the car.

“How long have you been here, Jim?” The old man looked away.

“I rightly don’t know, Joe.” Jim yanked a small towel from his back pocket. He wiped his face and hands, then tossed the towel inside the car.

Joe rubbed his chin. “Do you at least know where we are?” Joe glanced about.

“No other way to say it, son. We’re in between before and after.” Jim cleared his throat.

“Are you saying we’re in some kind of limbo? Is that even an option?” The realization of such a thought was hard to digest.

Jim shrugged his shoulders. “If you’re asking if we’re dead, yeah, it sounds right. A place where we come to terms with the wrongs we did during our lifetime. A purgatory of sorts. I mean, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

Joe hung his head. He immediately reached for the metal that hung around his neck, but it was gone.

“I…I have so many questions. I don’t even know how I got to this…this place…wherever it may be,” mumbled Joe.

“I had the same questions, Joe.” Jim sniffed.

Joe’s eyes swarm with tears. “Did you find the answers?”

“Nope, can’t say I did. Not sure if we’re supposed to find them. Maybe this place is to help in the reflection of past mistakes. The hurtful ones.” Jim walked to the front of the Thunderbird and slowly lowered the hood. It clicked into place.           

“How can we atone for mistakes if we can’t even remember them? I feel so lost.” Joe swallowed. He locked eyes with Jim.

“My dad’s name was Jim. He was a good man. You kind of look like him. And my oldest brother carried the name, too.” Joe tilted his head.

The old man’s faded blue eyes crinkled in the corners. The smile was genuine. He gently laid his hand on Joe’s sagging shoulder.

“I got an idea. How about we see where this road takes us, Joe. With a little luck, it might just lead us home and maybe…to some answers.” He handed Joe the keys.

Joe gave a slight nod. The two men got inside the Thunderbird. Silence filled the car as they sped down the road, then vanished into the swirling white mist.