by Jon Moore

Harry's Dead

The last time I spoke to Harry was Aug. 13th. He died exactly as I said he would within two months. In fact, it was how I ended our last conversation. I don’t feel bad for it. I don’t even see it as cruel. If one were to create such an interpretation. I merely predicted an educated and eventual reality, based on his current course of actions. One is not clairvoyant when they say, “….drinking like you do isn’t going to end well. Since you’re such a mean bastard, guess who’s going to have to clean you up.….” That’s what I’d said. What I’d meant to say was, “clean up after you.” however, in my hast to anger with him, I jumbled the words out to have a far Moore sinister meaning. I didn’t correct myself. I doubled down. “ I’ll give you a hint; do you think your children are going to come pick you up off the floor the next time you fall down? Get hurt? Who’s going to have to clean you up?” I’m not happy to have overlooked something trivial I never really accounted for. His dog, “Cap” died alongside him. Poor guy. Loyal to the end, to a guy whom didn’t even deserve your love or you. But in the end. Harry was your purpose. Harry was your Human.

All of this has been said before in small, almost polite barbs, back and forth over the past 13 years. As we’d be inevitably been forced to speak to one another, on a human level. He was our family’s caution, every time we’d pull in the driveway to, ‘be on the lookout for Harry coming and going…’ You don’t’ wanna get stuck with him between your driveway and the front door. Never, once, did I ever string such terrible things to say together in one sequence. Especially not in anger towards him. Getting angry with him was like getting mad at a child for eating a large quantity of unguarded cookies in the kitchen. That’s Moore your fault for leaving these cookies in a place where children can get them so easily.

What did Harry do that was so mean? He wanted to give me things he’d built up in his life, he couldn’t hold onto. Places where I was failing yet he’d “succeeded”. There was only one thing. His family, his emotions, his sense of decency, his finances, he’d failed on every point which makes a man a man. He saw me, everyday, for the past 13 years. Taking care of my family at great personal sacrifice and cost. Smething he’d never dne himself, yet w0uld be quick t0 reprimand y0u.

There’s no secrets and intimacy to be ignored in such proximity. Like it or not, you two are neighbors and you’re both stuck living here, so make the best of it. He saw me quietly fighting. Fighting the way a man fights to watch over the ones he loves and do what it takes. Harry was full of ideas on this issue. He never took the time to personally explore this issue. Hence why my agitation with him on this issue was irrelevant to the point it was offensive. He’d suck time away from you. That’s the most important thing any man of limited means has of value. I spend mine very cautiously. I didn’t mind giving my time, anytime, for any one. But you don’t get to demand it. You don’t tell me what I’ve got to do with phoney, feel good, solutions you’ve not ever once invested in yourself. You don’t outrank my children time. This was something I’d said to him often. Usually ending with a door slammed in his face.

Harry was one of these guys whom always had his pants down and a ruler out. Metaphorically speaking of course. Looking for takers. I would say to him, “congratulation’s, you’ve got the biggest dick. What goods having the biggest dick if you’re too intolerable to have anyone to use it on.” The fact that he understood, immediately, what these barbs meant to him with any kind of allusion to his actual penis size was the wrong measure of a man. It was only way to disarm him. Give him what he wanted. Immediately. It could take him days, weeks, months for him to process what you just fucking said to him. Thus buying you some ‘Harry free encounters’ as we went about living our lives.

I didn’t mind calling out Harry for such improprieties when it was just he and I. However, there was an instance in 2020 when he and some other neighbors were helping me move his tuck (I’ll come back to Moore on this later.) He was giving counter orders and instructions immediately after I’d just put out a completely different set of instructions. He didn’t get his way, so he “helped” by yelling counterintuitive orders during the truck moving process. An instance which forced me to confront him in front of other neighbors and people. Embarrassing an Alpha is very dangerous. I embarrassed him in the only way any man could with him. In a military style of chain of command.

Many Christians feel it’s their duty to make sure that everyone they come in contact with, has an opportunity to meet God. There’s no right or wrong, it’s irrelevant in this context. It’s a part of their preachings/teachings in the bible. They’re blindly following instructions, in many cases, ignoring the content of why they were created in the first place. This is true of any religion, cult, mass hysteria and popular delusions.

What you really don’t like is have philosophical, idle chit chat on such complicated and emotional issues with ill prepared strangers who’ve come unannounced on day you’re spending your most precious commodity that you have, with your family. Should they get pushy, it’s inevitable you lash out. Thus creating an unnecessary hostile situation. Now making an enemy of someone, you had no intention of making an enemy out of. In fact, should this person have been placed into your life in a natural way or order. The odds of a possible ally or even long term friendship could emerge. At the end of the day, christians are terrible negotiators, because they only think of themselves and how they appear to/for God first. It’s not what the Gods wrote about. Not in this context. They’re getting so many things wrong by telling everyone else how to live their lives.

Frankly, religious text [I’m stating this b/c it’s not specific to christianity. It’s represented in many cultures, traditions all over the world. I’m using Christianity for my readers whom most likely are most familiar with this.] couldn’t have been written any plainer. Don’t blame them. We all do it too. I’m only singling them out because it’s easy.

Harry was most certainly not a christian. His life would’ve greatly improved from it, that’s certainly true. He was the poster child for what all christians crusaded over and warned us not to be.

The way I’ve always seen Harry was that he’d been living with some kind of undiagnosed mental disorder which was only exasperated as he aged in his late 70’s and continued drinking at his pace. He was handicapped and too proud to admit it. It was a hot afternoon. It was August 13th, I know this because the girls were ready to go back to school on the 15th and Mama took off with her daughter to Houston. There were additional insults which we may or may not get into later. I was upset about that complete disregard Mama’s side of the family showed to mine. Then to simply demand it! No, I’m sorry honey. My time is valuable and I share it ONLY with people I’m investing in. I’m a grown ass man and NO ONE demands my time….except my kids….they get a pass. It’s kinda what we signed up for as parents.

This was already on top of the fact that we sat around and did nothing, all summer. Really just too broke. Like…so broke it hurt. Why couldn’t the fucking invite come at a normal time when normal people do shit with their families? Yet demanded our participation, 4 ½ hours away, the weekend/day before school starts when we knew we’d only have X$, then have to come all this way, at our expense…… This put all the school shopping, supplies buying, all the last minute dumb shit you gotta do/get for the kids was on Daddy..again…and Mama took the fucking car! So, I was already not in a good mood when he banged on my door, demanded my attention. Today wasn’t a good day to do this Harry.

After I’d said, quite possibly the meanest thing I’ve ever said to another human being in my life, the reality of it sank. I knew I only had a few more encounters left with Harry. There was simply no way for him to move forward with his life choices and be sustainable. He’d fought against everything he’d ever done with all the intuition of counterintuitively in a lifetime of lucky breaks in the wrong direction. Thus giving false validation to justify a means. Not only just from the time he was a gunnery drill sergeant. Time in combat. Nor his various stints in prison for survival. I can only imagine the gangs Harry was involved with on the inside. Turning wrenches with other tired men until their old age. Perhaps how we lived in a particularly ethnic neighborhood everyone loves and use words that we don’t love to describe its inhabitants. You don’t get to say you love the neighborhood then trash its inhabitants. It’s one or the other Harry. So which is it? Do we need to go as Sarah (names changed. This is Susan)ask her what she thinks? I bet she’d be surprised to hear about your love of this Neighborhood which she lives in too, just across the street.

I never could pin Harry down with logic, but I knew exactly how to trip him up with it. He had a very powerful coping skills which reinforced what ever tightly held beliefs he did have. I was toying with him. For me, Harry was a phoney and too easy to spot. It was sad he never realized this. He wasn’t fooling anyone. He was only ignored. Upon first meeting him, certainly, there’s some interpretation. He most certainly was an alpha male. However, it didn’t take me long to size him up. As he began to butt his head into my life, unannounced and in the meanest, rudest way possible at any time, any given day, I still dangled the bones I had a bag full of, in front of him, everyday.

It was cool hot rods I built with 0 help from him in any way. To the point where I DID need his hep, but was such a bastard about asking for it, I’d rather sell the fucking car instead….yes. It was the mean way. I didn’t care. I was bullying the fucking bully and you can be mad with me about how mean I was all you like. I’m guilty of that. I was willful about it. Now he’s dead. Having died exactly as I said he would, pint up in his hoarded house with no one involved with him enough to even check up on him. Even his poor, abused, dog died with him. Loyal to the very end. Who do you think was supposed to find his body? Me. He was leaving himself to me and I didn’t want such a terrible, “gift”.

That detail set the whole thing in a new light for my family. Our puppy Franklin had died about the same time Harry did. Although, Harry wasn’t “discovered” until mid October. I’ve footage of us burying Franklin (I took pics of the girls digging a grave for the dead puppy and whatnot) on Sept, 30th. There’s allusions to Harry’s presence in the background. We’d spoken to him that day. I didn’t record that, specifically. But only, “hey how ya doin.” He didn’t attempt to stop me and chat with me this time. Just said our hello’s without either of us making eye contact….again. We are still human. It’s possible to hate your best friend. We’re capable of this emotional complexity as humans. Except, I’d never considered Harry a friend.

The actual date of Franklins death was later in Sept. We are a busy family. We’d planted a tree where we wanted franklin the rest. This required a sizable hole to be dug. Prep time. Purchase of a tree (after we’d spent all our “extra” money on trying to get the puppy healthy) Me, being Daddy and doin what Daddy’s do, held the vote for, “Viking Funeral” for Franklin. or a burial. I was the only one for the viking nod. Especially realizing how much work my family was volunteering for me to do. So, I made it crystal clear, should they be choosing the later, they will be digging as well. It took another week of Franklin rotting in the shed for this to sink in with my girls. As soon as I saw the flies gathering around my home, I knew. These aren’t rotting puppy corpse flies. These flies were big, strong, healthy. They’d been filling up on a perfect feast that a fly would love, somewhere, close. I looked at Harry’s house in that moment and knew. I did nothing. I said nothing. But knew. Harry’s dead.