The Light of the Withered Rose (high school short story)

My first short story, written in the spring of 1984 for my senior high school English class.
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Looking back, I can't remember a day when the three of us had not known each other and weren't just as close as any three neighborhood kids can be. In those days we did everything together. We used to crawl under the elementary school from one side to the other. Then, in the next breath, we would climb up on the roof and hide behind the air conditioners. In class we used to hide notes in reading books and then put the books back on the shelf for the next person to find. Once in awhile we would get caught but not often.

I was brought up in a sincere, Christian home; so when I grew older and became a Christian too, I had no desire to go to some of the places and do many of the things the others wanted to do. Other than that fact, I was just like any other boy, except that I loved books and would read them whenever I could. Once in a while a thought would strike me, and I would run to my room and write it down.

The second one of our trio was Rudcus. Rudcus had a strange metabolism that made him stronger than anyone I have ever known. He could have beaten up almost anyone in our neighborhood, but he wouldn't have because it was against his nature. Besides that, he was just as clumsy as he was strong. I didn't see Rudcus too often after his father died and he had to go to work. He had it real hard, and the fact that he had trouble keeping a job didn't help.

My best friend of all, though, was Vince. Vince wasn't like Rudcus or me. Vince was in a class all by himself. It was a very rare occurrence when someone could beat Vince at anything. Vince was a genius, but he was more than a genius. He was an athlete, a musician, a scholar, a working man; you name it, he could do it, and he could do it well. I always looked up to Vince.

As the years passed by, we all began to follow those lines that suited us best. Rudcus had to drop out of high school because he was the sustaining force in his family. I began to write in my high school years, and it was then that I decided that I wanted to write for a living. Vince, meanwhile, continued to excel. He held all the status positions a person could think of holding. He was a star football player, the valedictorian, captain of the debate team; in everything he excelled. In all his splendor I was his most devoted fan. I must confess that I was blinded by his brilliance.

During my high school years I had been dating a girl whom I met through my church. Her name was April, and she was the sweetest and most beautiful girl in all the world to me. After we graduated from high school, I'd finally decided that I was going to ask her to marry me. It would be a rough life, being married to a writer; but I was a hard worker, so we would survive. I have the night all planned, and I'd asked her father for permission to have her hand in marriage. Everything was set. The restaurant was the best in town, and I had bought her a beautiful rose. I was in a state of euphoria, and all I seemed to see was the bright reflection of the chandelier in her eyes.

When the time was right, I asked her. The answer was one that I had never anticipated. “I’m so sorry Dan. I thought you knew. Vincent and I have been seeing each other for quite a while,” she said. I had been totally blinded by the light of her smile and by what I thought was another one of Vince's many friendships. I begged and pleaded with her. I told her that her parents wouldn't be pleased. All was to no avail. She also was blinded by the incessant beaming of Vince. I don't know what else transpired that night. All I remember is thinking that my rose had withered and that I would never marry anyone if I could not marry her.

Vince and April were married the next spring; and, strangely enough, I was the best man. After all that had happened, Vince was still a good friend. He was going to college at this time and was majoring in business and finance. As usual he was a success. I often dreamed of how happy Vince and April must have been together. They really did make a glowing couple.

I too was happy. I continued to write and occasionally would compose something worth publishing. In the meantime I taught at the neighborhood middle school. It was within walking distance of my apartment. Each day I would walk home through the nearby park and enjoy the beautiful colors of the seasons and especially the fall. I then had only to walk a few blocks down to the corner where my apartment stood.

Around this time Rudcus ended up staying in the local firehouse where he was a volunteer. The official firehouse was on the other side of the city, so a volunteer system had been set up on this side of town. From what I could tell, he, too, was happy. Occasionally he would go to church with me on a Sunday morning. He would tell me how is work was going, whatever it was at that time. He had found a wife who lived with him in the fire station. As I said, he had it hard.

Several years later Vince and April had a daughter. She was a bright young girl and learned very quickly. I looked forward to the day that I would have a chance to teach her. Vince, meanwhile, had begun a new business deal, one which would give him more money than anyone could ever ask to have. It would be a modern resort complex that would be built by the lake of our section of town. In winter the lake would freeze over and the nearby hills would make for great skiing. Townhouses were to be built nearby out of all natural materials. Since the lake was separated from the town by a series of hills, the resort would be totally isolated from the town and, therefore, vacationers would feel totally isolated from the world if they were brought in from the right direction. Ski lift, security, sprinkler, and emergency telephone systems would all be controlled by the most modern computer system, hidden of course from families at the resort.

The concept took off as soon as it had been presented. The local economy was badly depressed at that time, so the city's merchants thought that it was a great idea. A few enlightened townsmen would be given an opportunity to buy a certain percentage of the deal. Vince even asked me if I wanted to become a part of this brilliant plan. The project was approved almost immediately, and planning began for building.

The project first ran into trouble on the third year after its initiation. The computers cost much more than Vince and the engineers had planned. It appeared as if this extra expenditure and an unexpected rise in inflation had drained the project's capital. Most of the townhouses had been finished already, all except for the massive cooling systems of the hidden computer room. The importance of these systems was tremendous. The computer room was to be placed in the side of a hill, so it would be hard to cool. If the computer blew, then the whole system would be out of commission. It was plain to all that this project would fail if more money couldn't be obtained in the near future; as for now there was no money.

Vince was under extreme pressure. Millions of dollars had been staked on his judgment. If he couldn't solve this problem, he would lose almost everything. A meeting was called for all those who had some part in the deal. I too was there. Several angry businessman cursed at Vince and told him that he was a failure. I'll never be able to forget all the hatred and anger that flew across that room. I was also at a loss. Vince had never failed before. I always thought Vince could do anything. Vince had always been a superman to everyone. Nobody ever thought he was capable of a failure this great.

I don't believe that even Vince thought he had really failed, for the next day he had a plan. It would make it hard for the resort to operate at first, but eventually the resort would pay for itself, and the loss would be eliminated. The plan was to postpone indefinitely the shipment of security devices. The amount of money left, then, would be used to account for the cooling systems. A few shortcuts would be made on the efficiency of the system, and there would only be one access to the computer room, thus, saving the money of dynamiting out further space for a safety access. The dynamiting process was scheduled to begin the next week, just before the computers arrived, so the plan could work.

Everybody thought it was a brilliant vision. Vince had come through for everyone, and everyone was again lost in Vince's radiance. For a moment I also was in a wild sense of euphoria, but then I realized the danger of what he was doing. The losses of efficiency and a second access were serious safety hazards. I protested, but my feeble protests for nothing against his brilliant plan. “The winter,” the businessmen argued, “will keep it cool.” It was truly hard for them to kick against the pricks, for he had saved the city. He was the savior. I promptly left the meeting.

The project was completed in time for the next winter, and it was a success. No one even missed the security system, as hundreds of tourists came in over the course of the winter. Vince was a success. He made over a million dollars that winter alone, and I wondered how happy he must have been. Everything did operate well, as Vince had said, until the second winter.

It was on a bright January noon that life hit Vince. It was a Friday; and school had been dismissed early, so I was walking home. Although it was snowing off and on, the sun seemed brighter than normal, and I had to wear my hat to shield my eyes from its blaze. The park was lifeless, as the trees had lost their leaves. As I stepped on the sidewalk, I heard the usual siren that signifies something is on fire. It was customary for me to look to the hills when that happened, and this time I followed the custom and wondered. Rudcus sold hot foods at the factories this time of year in a peddling truck. Suddenly this peddling truck came wheeling around the corner so quickly that two of its wheels went off the ground. It was Rudcus, and he was racing toward the firehouse. When the fire truck came out of the firehouse, I also jumped on it. Rudcus told me what happened. The computers at the resort at overheated due to an overload on the system. A transformer at the entrance had blown so rigorously that the passageway to the tunnel had caught on fire (being made out of all natural materials). Vince and his five-year-old daughter had been inside.

When we arrived, there was hardly any method of getting inside the computer room. Rudcus, wearing the only flame suit, practically ran through the flames in order to save them. Vince had efficiently blocked the entrance, so the fire had not yet reached the innermost part. I don't know exactly how Rudcus made it into the room but he did. The next thing I saw was Rudcus running out of the flames. He had the child in a blanket, and he was on fire. When the fire on him was extinguished, he stood there, badly burned, yet with his muscles just as strong as ever. In his arms was the small, frail girl, unconscious, yet unscathed by the fire.

The fire died down enough for second attempt, Vince was removed from the computer room. He was alive, but in a coma from severe burns and smoke inhalation. He was immediately taken to the hospital. I spent many hours there, trying to comfort April. She was very distressed to think that Vince could not conquer death. I took the time to buy a rose like the one I had bought so long ago, and she placed it at his bedside as a remnant of hope and light. For a while we thought he was going to recover. He seemed to be getting better. It was Sunday night when we heard the doctor being called to Vince’s room. Vince’s body could no longer function and he had died. No special lights, no extra privileges, nothing out of the ordinary accompanied his death. One moment Vince was alive and on the road to recovery. The next moment he was dead. There were no flowers for Algernon. His rose had withered and his lights had all gone out.

It was then that I realized that there are no supermen. There are some men who can do great things, but they are all human. They all make mistakes, and they all die. I was searching for an idealism in Vince that no man could attain. Sooner or later, we all must hit the immovable wall with an irresistible force. With men and life there is no respect of persons. Rudcus hit it early in life, and I had hit it sometime in the middle. Vince had really hit it. He was human. We are all human and are all the same. Real success in life is not measured by how strong one is, how intelligent one is, or how wealthy one is. Success is not even measured by how much position and a claim a person has, but a successful man is he who is most happy. I thought Vince was happy, but he really wasn’t. He had accomplished so much and moved so fast that he neglected to take the time to be happy.

The Monday after Vincent died I went back to school to resume my life. It had been the most shocking weekend of my existence, filled with a horrible realization of what life really was. As long as I had seen exception in Vince, it hadn't meant as much to me, but now I saw that there was no special glitter, no exceptions to life, only the happiness that one could have, that inward satisfaction that comes when one loves life and accepts it as it is. I had that happiness. My life would resume, and it would be a happy life.