Family Genes Considered
.....by Richard Koss
Before reading the following story, an explanation from Richard Koss:
I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing, but I always insert a certain element of truth in my stories. This one is perhaps a little closer to the truth than I would like. Scary as it may seem, I do have relatives like this. I think about this when I'm driving a car, and I haven't been on a boat in years. Be sure to watch your step,
It is common knowledge that genes transmit hereditary characteristics such as facial features, height, the color of our eyes, hair and skin, and of course, intelligence levels. There are also theories well supported, indicating that strengths and weaknesses relating to our immune systems are also passed on through genetics, accounting for family histories of cancer, heart disease, and other serious illnesses and diseases, or in some families, a near complete absence of such life threatening conditions.
But what about our propensity for certain behavior? What about people who are accident prone? How about people who are habitually careless or negligent or do dumb things that get them into trouble. Are these tendencies also passed on through our genes? Many people think they are. After reading this story, you may very well agree.
Family Genes Considered
.....by Richard Koss
Marcia broke the silence as they headed for home after leaving the doctor's office.
"Look at you. This whole damn thing didn't even faze you. I've been a nervous wreck for days worrying about the results of your tests and you act like you just came from the dentist. You should go right to church and get down on your hands and knees and thank God. This was a warning Billy. You've got to quit smoking now. Not tomorrow, not next week, right now!"
Marcia was delivering another sermon again, but this time she was right. The coughing and breathing problems showed up on his x-rays and although the biopsy was negative, Billy knew his respiratory problems would continue to get worse if he didn't quit.
"Did you see the look on Doctor Forsythe's face when you started rattling off your family's weird history of unnatural deaths. Then you tell him that you're positive you won't die from anything so mundane such as lung cancer or heart trouble. As if that makes it okay for you to keep smoking and drinking the way you do."
Billy continued to drive with a smirk on his face. He didn't respond to Marcia's sermon. What could he say? She was right.
Marcia hated it when he told people about all the strange and accidental deaths in his family. She got especially upset when he bragged that he was never going to die of cancer or heart disease because like most of his father's family, he was destined to die of unnatural causes.
She felt embarrassed when he said these things to people he hardly knew and even more so, when he told them to Doctor Forsythe.
Yes, Marcia was pissed and he better not light up a cigarette in front of her. Maybe he would really quit now. We'll see, he thought.
They got home and Marcia slammed her car door and walked briskly into the house without waiting for Billy to get out of the car. By the time Billy finally lagged in and sat down on the couch, Marcia had already gone into the bathroom.
She was right, Billy thought. He did sound kind of ridiculous bragging about his goofy relatives and the way they escaped death from dreaded illnesses like cancer and heart disease by killing themselves in stupid ways. "Cancer and heart trouble are strictly a matter of genetics," his uncle Joe used to say. "If they're not in your family genes, you probably won't get 'em either." But how do you know if these diseases are in your family genes when your relatives don't live long enough for them to show up?
Poor uncle Joe. He decided to start riding a motorcycle again at age 54 and ended up underneath a 16 wheeler on the freeway.
Billy began to think about the others - His dad's younger half-brother Theodore, who at fourteen, was killed when he fell under the farm tractor he was riding. And his dad's cousin Al who hanged himself at thirty-seven.
Then there was uncle Billy, his namesake, who died in a plane crash at about forty; and his other uncle Louie who got mistaken for a duck while on a hunting trip.
And of course Billy's own father Eddie, who drowned at seventy-seven. He was fishing in a small aluminum boat when a Lake Erie storm kicked up suddenly. And there were several other relatives from prior generations who died in accidents and mishaps of one sort or another.
Marcia came out of the bathroom and stood in front of Billy, looking at him sadly. "Please tell me this has at least put a scare into you. If you care about me and the kids, you'll quit smoking and cut down on your drinking."
Billy got up and put his arms around Marcia, kissing her sweetly on the lips. "Okay babe, you're right. It's time for me to change." Then he started walking toward the kitchen and the outside door.
"Now where're you going?" Marcia gave him a suspicious look.
"I have to get the propane tank filled if we're going to cook out. We are going to cook out, aren't we?"
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We've got four beautiful strip steaks. The kids'll be home about six so please don't stop anywhere."
"You need anything from the store?"
"No, I don't think so." Marcia finally smiled that cute smile of hers. She really loved Billy and could never stay mad at him.
As his car reached the stop sign at the end of their street, Billy reached under his seat but he couldn't find what he wanted. He opened his door and stuck his head down, looking under the seat. He saw the pack of cigarettes way under the seat and cursed out loud as he scraped his hand retrieving the pack.
He would wait until he got on the freeway. He didn't want a nosy neighbor to spot him smoking. They all knew Marcia too well.
Billy was well along on the freeway with a cigarette in his mouth, but he couldn't find his lighter. He got off at the Miller road exit and started up the hill, about three miles from the propane shop. Half way up the steep, two lane road, he reached to open the glove compartment. If Marcia didn't throw it out, the car cigarette lighter was still in there where he hid it.
With his left hand on the wheel, he stretched across the seat trying to feel inside the glove compartment. His left hand slipped off the steering wheel for an instant - just long enough for his car to drift across the double yellow line as it reached the top of the hill.
Startled by the deep baritone-like horn blast, Billy looked up with the unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. There was no time to react. There were no final thoughts; no visions of his life flashing before him. He saw only big, ominous teeth - the teeth of a grille. The grille of a huge Mack truck about to devour him.
When 85 year-old aunt Ceil, uncle Louie's widow, was told of Billy's tragic death, she replied. "I feel bad for Marcia, but family genes considered, quite a natural ending. Wouldn't you say?"