I still can’t find myself finishing Blood and Brothers…so here’s a short story I wrote months ago. Inspired by the film “Into the Wild” directed by Sean Penn, this is Two Bottles and a Book. Enjoy.



Two Bottles and A Book



I remember it well. It was a late Monday afternoon in a bar. I just got off from work and decided to have a little drink. I found a table just in front of the counter. I ordered one beer which was followed by another and another and another.



“Rough day, huh?” he said as he closed his book.



He was a young man around his early twenties. He wore a gray shirt that had Illinois written across it and khaki shorts that hung below his knees. On his back was a huge blue backpack that gave me the impression that he went on a hike for a couple of days and was complimented by his muddy footwear. I noticed that he was also nursing a beer but I guessed it was his first. I found it odd for anybody to be reading and drinking at the same time. It just doesn’t fit.



“Can I?” he said, pointing his book at the seat across me.

“Sure,” I replied as I fished for my handkerchief and wiped the sweat off my forehead.

“Global warming stinks, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ve been sweating all day,” I smirked. “I wasn’t able to concentrate much during work.”

“What do you?”

“I’m a doctor,” I said and sipped some of my beer.

“You work over there?” he pointed at the hospital across the road.

After looking, I nodded.

“How long?”

“I did my internship there and, currently, my residency. Let’s say seven.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah! Wow!” I said sarcastically. He must have noticed my tone.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s not a matter of like. It’s life! And I’m just living it.”



We both sipped some beer.



“So, you really think you’re living?”

“Yes,” I firmly answered.

“You think that money and security and leisure are important? That what you have right now even that handkerchief that you’re holding is essential?”

I looked at my handkerchief. I wasn’t sure where the conversation was headed but I rode along.



“Yes.”



A grin ran across his face.



“So you think all this…” He lifted his arms as if he was about to fly. “Is real? Is life?”

I looked around. “Yes,” I said but found myself uncertain. “Yes. This is life. This is real.”



He snorted at me.



“This is not life, my friend. This is society!” He said with a mock expression.

“Society?” I raised a brow and slid my handkerchief in my pocket.

“Yes. Society. This is what society has imposed upon you. This is what they say is right!”

“They? Who are they?”

“They! Them! The inevitable them! They make us think that this is the way we should live our lives, that money, fame and prejudice are important for our survival. They decide what we should do, how we should do it and when.”



I laughed at him.



“No. That’s not true.”

“Which one?” He placed his hands in his pockets.

“The part when you said they decide for us is not true,” I said as slouched on the chair.

“And why do you say that?”

“Well…” I scratched my temple. “I got here by choice, my own decision. They never said anything or stopped me from making my decision.”

“Really?” He folded his arms.

“Yes. Really! After high school, I decided to go to St. Peters. I took up Biology then after that I went to medical school. I went to the best hospital in New York and had my internship and residency there. I made those decisions. Me! Not the society, not you or the inevitable them!”

“Tell me something. When you made your decisions what were you thinking?”

“What do you mean?” I felt confused.

“After graduating from high school, did you immediately think that you were going to take Biology?”

“Well, I had other options.”

“Like?”

“Like Math and Physics and Chemistry.”

“Then, why Biology?”

“When I was a kid I was fascinated by how ordinary people save other people’s lives. I mean I know God is up there but it’s like he lent some of his blessings to man to be able to survive and help one another. Do you know what I’m saying?”

“Yes. I know God too. Don’t mock me.”

“I was n—”

“After finishing medical school, why did you choose New York?”

“I chose New York because… there are a lot of opportunities here. There are more surgeries and you can get to meet the best of the best. And, if you’re lucky, you can scrub-in on one of their operations.”

“Why would you want to scrub-in on their surgeries?”

“Because they’re the best of the best!” I replied with a laugh.

“So, what do you do to get in a case?”

“You impress them. You do your best in every task. You must perform well in every surgery.”

“Do you become acquainted in the process?”

“No. You don’t necessarily have to know each other to get into a case. You just have to have good records and they will see it and you get in.”

“See?” He clapped his hands.

“See what?”

“They!”



I found myself a little lost.



“They? They what?” I said as I shook my head.

“You used they – they, them, the inevitable them.”



I rolled my eyes. “It’s not they or the inevitable them. I just used ‘they’ to pertain to my mentors.”

“…mentors who do not know you or even like you.”

“Hey, I see you reading your book and I don’t see the author liking you.”

“Well, I don’t see myself trying to impress him as if my life depends on it.”

“This is my life. I get to call the shots.”

“Really? From what I’ve just heard, you’ve got to look good in front of them to stay in it.”



I paused. There was something in what he said that was true and it hit me. Slowly, I felt new blobs of sweat starting to form.



“What are you suggesting I do?” I said while trying to stay calm.

“For starters, you can get rid of that coat and tie, and try to breathe.”

“Next?”

“Woah! Tiger, you’re a little bit in a hurry. Have you ever heard of the saying: read between the lines? It’s not just what you’re wearing.”

I felt my eyebrows met above my nose bridge. “What you’re saying is that I should lose my job? After all I’ve been through to get it, I’ll just lose it?”

“No pain, no gain,” he answered casually.

“Okay. And be what?”

“Free!”



There was an immediate silence – one that fills the gap between sanity and fiction.



“Be free?” I restated. “Like you?”

“I don’t know. How do you define freedom?”

“Being free is being unconfined to restraints.”



He smiled and nodded.



“You think my job is restraining me from being free?”

“No, not just your job. Money, people, laws…”

“They serve a certain purpose. Each element in this world serves a certain purpose. We need the law to set things in order – to set what is right. Without it, we’d be cavemen.”

“All the better!” He answered cheerily.

“Things are not that easy.”

“Whoever said they were? … All I’m saying is that you have a choice.”

“And what is that?”

“I don’t know. It’s your life. You get to call the shots.”

“But, I already did. I just told you.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s too bad,” he shook his head.



Not another word was spoken. After finishing his beer, he stood up and left. We never met again.



On warm days, I find myself wanting his company. I hate to admit it but I miss him. He was the most honest yet complicated person I’ve ever met. The thought of him makes me want to look back on the life I had. Had I lived my life as it should be? Was I happy? Was I free?



It has been fifty years since but I could still remember our conversation like it happened only yesterday. The way he looked and the way he said his words are frozen up in my head. What if I followed his advice? What could’ve happened to me this past fifty years? Would I be the same as I am today? Would I be smarter? There’s no use answering these questions now. I am old and grey. I have used all the time the world has given me and worse, I was already succumbed to the power they have created a long time ago – society, that is. To be quite honest, I am very envious of him – he who defied the laws they made. He walked his own path, done things in his own methods and lived his life in his own way. I just wished he found the happiness and the freedom he wanted and he had succeeded in fulfilling whatever duty he wants to fulfill. And lastly, I thank him for touching my life. It was brief but its effect was eternal. Thank you.