Being Tony: Being Tony

After they had left, I was furious. I looked at the bottle that Angel had brought for me; Kentucky Bourbon. I considered throwing it out, but really, what would have been the point, so I opened it and poured myself a good shot.

I went to the fridge in the faint hope that there might be some ice made, but there wasn’t, so I had the drink at room temperature, and soon I felt its warmth radiating through me. I lit another cigarette and sat at the window, drinking, smoking and thinking.

In my life, I’d been many things. I’d been a kid living in the mansion and getting into trouble at the County Fair. I’d been a runaway and lived on my wits. I’d been a lover of many women, and twice I’ve been a husband. I’d been a Jag owner, a builder and a factory worker. I’ve run a food stall, a pub, a café, a piano bar, and a bed store. I’d tried to be a friend.

I’d been all these things, and they had all been good, but Jenny’s comment kept nagging at me: when was I going to start being Tony? What did that even mean? What was I if I was not defined by a job, a car, or a woman?

My right arm started to shake a bit, I’m sure from the tension I’d been under, and this warm bourbon was giving me a terrible pain in my chest. It’s true I haven’t been eating properly recently, and I’m sure that was why the drink was bringing on a severe case of heartburn.

I started to think about what Angel and Jenny had said. I knew intellectually that they were good friends, just trying to help. Because of not having a car I’d been inside a lot more than was good for me, and I had let my lack of a job get to me more than I liked to admit. It had seemed pointless to get washed and change my clothes most days, and when I broke that tooth it seemed too much effort to get it fixed.

What did it mean to “be Tony?” I kept coming back to that thought and kept coming up with nothing. Or at least, nothing that didn’t involve a job or a woman or a car. Angel and Jenny seemed to think I was worth more than that, and maybe they were right, after all.

Wow, this heartburn is really painful, and I’m clearly not used to the bourbon because I’m starting to feel a bit sick too. I light another cigarette, but can’t seem to get enough breath to enjoy it, so stub it out half finished.

I need to think more about this “being Tony” thing, but for now, I’m getting quite dizzy, and am shaking a bit, so I think I’ll go lie down. Tomorrow is a new day, and tomorrow I can start to find out who Tony is. Maybe Angel can help me with that, as well as cleaning the place.

I smile, even though the pain in my chest is dreadful right now, it’s so tight, and I can hardly catch my breath.

But tomorrow I will start Being Tony.

I just hope the world is ready for me.


About Derek Knight

Transplanted Brit, now in the US Mid West | Writer, blogger & author | passionate about life | Traveler and home body | | | |
This entry was posted in Being Tony - A Novel, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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