Adam Lives in Theory

Adam lives in Theory…

…but he wants to reside in Garden City.

Adam ponders this thought as he sips from his cup of coffee. He sets the porcelain mug down on his knee and takes in a sigh as he looks over the wrought iron guard rails that enclose his balcony. The morning sun peeks its rays through the gaps the city’s buildings leave in-between each other, but he doesn’t see the sun, just the rays. His eyes focus on the wrought iron, how each bar twists on itself up and down, while each bar rises into an ornate cherub resting atop the bar. He lifts the mug up to his mouth, takes another sip, and gives another sigh.

Adam lives in Theory, but he really wants to go back to Garden City.

Adam attempts to reminisce as to why he chose to leave Garden City and come to Theory. Did he make this choice? Or did a choice make him? If lives are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts. And everyone knows that the purpose of ghosts is to haunt, to linger, and to remind that there was once something here, but whatever it was is not tangible anymore.

And Garden City is not tangible anymore. ‘I wish I could go back,’ he thinks to himself. His mind twists and curves, breaking down each element of his past, attempting to separate those elements into atoms, protons, neutrons, electrons, and quarks. ‘If only I can figure it all out, then maybe I can go back,’ Adam deduces within himself.

He picks up his mug of coffee and clasps it in both hands while he takes a sip. Adam’s mind drifts back to the early days in Garden City. He had a great job. It didn’t seem to pay a CEO’s salary, but the benefits were phenomenal. He set his own hours, worked beside his wife, had full control of the product and could partake of it anytime he wanted. And the best part, his father, the CEO of the company, would come in of the afternoon. He and Adam would sit down and discuss the happenings of the day, what occurred with the product, what could be done better, what was done right, and then they would leave the plant and take a walk together and chat into the evening hours.

Adam cringes at this thought. Why does he cringe? Because, Adam chose to give it all up.

At the thought of giving it all up, Adam bangs his mug up and down several times on the table adjacent to him. The mug doesn’t break, but he still feels the pain of an ill-made decision that haunts him like a ghost.

Adam got an offer from a rival company that manufactured a lesser (but deceptively packaged as equal) product. The company looked so good. It offered him the opportunity of a lifetime. Adam would go straight to the top due to his talents and managerial skills. Adam would become a coveted CEO. He would have a title. Think of it, a title. Titles have power and distinguish you from others. Finally, he would be able to elevate himself to the level of his father.

Besides, his father seemed to be the everlasting CEO of the company and didn’t seem to be passing the company 100% on to Adam for some time. How could Adam wait? It was the opportunity of a lifetime to be just like his father. It was a shortcut indeed, but soon he could taste all that he theorized his father tasted.

Adam’s wife, Eve, she helped in the decision, too. She was excited at the opportunity to have a CEO husband. They could leave the confines of Garden City and really become something in Theory. Eve spoke of the house they could buy with the new salary. She had hopped on the internet and began house hunting in Theory. She compelled Adam forward, telling him how wonderful it would be to have a CEO husband. And the final urging came when Eve said, “We can be just like your father.”

Adam never consulted with his father over the decision. He kept it from him for a couple of weeks in their afternoon skull sessions. His father knew that something was troubling Adam, but Adam wasn’t forthcoming. Besides, Adam had freewill. He could choose what he wanted to do with his life and family.

Adam took the offer and cleared out his desk. His father came in that afternoon and began asking the other workers as to where Adam was. Adam was almost out the door, not wanting to face his father, who had given him everything. Adam’s father yelled Adam’s name. From the door of the plant Adam yelled back the news across the noisy equipment, “I’ve taken a new job.”

His father asked, “Where are you going?”

“To Theory.”

“What is it that you want in Theory? Is this life not good enough?”

“I want to be just like you,” and with that Adam walked through the door, closing it behind him. The steel door closing made a clanging noise that echoed through the plant, and the door’s resounding seemed to convey finality to all who heard it shut.

Adam lifted the mug up to his lips and finished the final sip. The sun edged higher over the buildings and Eve slipped out onto the balcony. Eve was more beautiful now than when she and Adam were in their youth. Though age had set in, she remained radiant. Adam didn’t really know what he had. Well, that’s not true. Adam knew he was lost without Eve. But Adam didn’t love himself, and if you can’t love yourself, you can’t truly love anyone else.

And this left Eve as a shell of a person. She had her dream home, but not her dream life. Five children, but the first two sons were gone. The eldest had jealously pushed the younger into oncoming traffic in the city of Theory. The eldest fled and they never really heard anything else from him, only that they think he had married a girl with the maiden name Nod. This left two sons and a daughter.

Eve often blamed Adam for making the wrong decision and moving to Theory, and Adam resentfully would shove his anger back toward her for compelling him to become a CEO and being just like his father. Adam felt trapped, and instead of blame himself and his poor decisions, he blamed his wife, Eve. He saw her as the cage of his confinement. It was her that wanted more. More home and more family and more money and more and more…

It was obvious that she drove him to become a CEO and leave his father. It was her fault the two eldest kids turned out in such a mess. How could he be to blame, he was never home due to work, and it was her responsibility to raise the kids. She wanted to be a stay at home mom. It was her responsibility.

28 years in Theory. 30 years of marriage.

Eve once confided to one of her children that she and Adam’s marriage could have been a good marriage. 30 years of could have had been. That is a scary prospect. A marriage that could have been good, never was. A marriage that could have been good instead spent 30 years being mediocre and accusory. Adam, in his state of low self-esteem, would periodically accuse Eve of having an affair with the pastor of the local church that Eve attended faithfully. Adam made cameo appearances at the church, trying to assist everyone in knowing how important of a CEO he is.

The children learned not to bring friends home. It was just easier closing their inner lives off from their school mates. Besides, who knew when Adam would have a terrible day at work and bring his problems at work home with him? The kids would count the days in-between Adam and Eve’s blow-ups. If more than two weeks went by, the kids got a little nervous, because they all knew that things were just too good to keep being good and that a fight must be inevitable.

So, one son clung to the father hoping that there was this virtue and idealistic image of his father. The other son slowly grew apart from Adam and made his way away from home toward his grandfather in Garden City. He didn’t call home much. The daughter, scarred by her two older brothers’ incident and needing a male role model to look up to needed her father, but her father carried the guilt of ill-treatment for his wife over 30 years and felt that the best thing to do was be like Mr. Spock and not display or feel any emotions. When she needed someone to validate her mother’s image, Adam wasn’t there. When she needed someone to validate her inner essence, Adam still wasn’t there. The daughter eventually found attention but only in the wrong places.

Adam would later confess, just a few weeks before he was sitting on the balcony, sipping his coffee from his porcelain mug, that his life once had meaning, till he left Garden City. Adam professed that his life was a waste since he left Garden City. 28 years of waste. His family had crumbled. His job brought no fulfillment, not like before. He was growing older, and the prospect of growing feeble scared the hell out of him.

Adam had inherited the wind.

Nobody told him life was going to be this hard. That it gets tougher as you keep going.

Adam lives in Theory…

…but he wants to reside in Garden City.

The crown of the sun is just now edging over the tallest skyscraper. The porcelain mug is empty, much like Adam’s life. Adam slinks down in his chair and fixes his eyes on the cherubs that rest atop the twisted wrought iron. The cherubim leave Adam feeling abandoned by them. They don’t protect him from much. Adam keeps trying to figure everything out. ‘How did I get here? What did I do?’ And then the reality of the true question hits him, ‘what is it that I was looking for?’

And everything came flooding in on Adam’s brain. Everything that he wanted was theoretical. Theoretically he wanted to be just like his father. Theoretically he wanted the title of CEO. Theoretically taking the rival offer would make his life better. Theoretically Eve would be happy. Theoretically his family would be better off.

Theoretically.

Theoretically took him from Garden City to the metropolis of Theory.

What Adam realized is that theoretically took him away from his father. Theoretically got him a title that gave him pseudo-elevation. Theoretically got him a screwed up marriage. Theoretically didn’t hold much water.

‘Could I return to Garden City?’ Adam wondered to himself. ‘Could I return to my father? Return to my former life? Could I?’ All Adam would have to do is pick up the phone and tell his father that he wanted to return.

What Adam didn’t know is that for 28 years, his father has kept his job open. Though his father is aged by now, he seems immortal. His father stares at the phone sometimes, wondering if Adam will ever call home.

Adam could return to Garden City.

He could.

But he won’t.

Adam tells himself that he’s too old. It’s too late. Change wouldn’t be easy. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be simple.

Eve sits beside Adam, but she doesn’t know what he’s thinking; she only senses his discontent; she theorizes that she is the source of his discontent. 30 years of marriage and they’ve only drifted apart. She loves Adam desperately, but he can’t reciprocate. He doesn’t know how anymore. Though his affections should center on Eve, only blame and guilt does he correlate to her.

He’s a little too self-absorbed as well. All they seem to do is share a bed. They sit there for a few minutes, looking at the emerging sun. Adam picks up his empty, porcelain mug and angrily throws it over the balcony. He rises and exits through a sliding glass door back into the house. Eve now sits alone, tiny droplets of tears forming in her eyes. She catches them with her elegant fingers.

Adam lives in Theory…

…but he wants to reside in Garden City.

(c) Aaron Brown, 2008