Death Is A Cool Guy, Part Five

Not a lot from me this week, I know. It's somehow been a very busy week. But I present to you the fifth and final part of my story Death Is A Cool Guy. Still need to change that title. Hope you enjoy it.

We had been sitting in silence for what seemed like hours. It was hard to if the ambiguity of time was due to the event we just shared or the pot we smoked to try to forget it. It didn’t work. I knew there would be no forgetting this.

                Ted Greenfield. That was the dead mans name. I saw it on some mail on the way out. I’m not sure how we got back to my couch, things were kind of a blur. I kept seeing the fear in Teds eyes. If his heart could beat, I’m sure it would have been racing. There was something else that was bothering me but it was hard to put my finger on it.

                It took a few more minutes for it to hit me. We were standing in Teds apartment for almost five minutes before he saw us. We were standing not six feet from him, talking to each other. Yet Ted had no idea that we were there until his heart stopped. The question was just in front of me but I was still forming it, still trying to figure out what the question was.

                “Hey Death, can I ask you something?” I finally spoke. I honestly had no idea how long the silence had lasted.

                “You just did.” It was funny but I felt like he knew the question I wanted to ask and was avoiding it. “No, I’m just kidding, go ahead.”

                “Well, that guy couldn’t see us until his heart stopped. But I can see you. I see you all the time.” I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to notice the oddness of my situation.

                “That wasn’t really a question but I see what you’re getting at. Usually people can only see me when they’re close to death. That instant between when they die and when I collect their soul. But we’ve been hanging out for a couple weeks now” 

                For some reason I got the feeling Death was holding something back. Up to this moment I had never imagined Death as being able to lie, outside of telling a joke. I had to call him on it. This is my life we’re dealing with.

                “What aren’t you telling me?” I asked him.

                “Are you sure you want to know?” He asked in return. This is not the first time he’s asked me this. I thought for a moment about the gravity of that situation. Did I really want to know this time? I paused to think about it but I knew my curiosity wouldn’t be able to not know.

                “Tell me”

                “You shouldn’t have been able to see me that first time. I could see that you were coming close though. It was still too early for you to be able to see me. But you seemed cool with it so I figured we could hang out before you…”

                “Died” I finished. I was furious. I considered Death a friend and he seemed to do the same. How could my friend lie to me about this? What an asshole.

                I suddenly realized I was calling the Grim Reaper an asshole for keeping this secret from me. I was mad at Death for jeopardizing our friendship. Then I saw Death for the first time, fully. His head was held down a bit and he was avoiding my face. His body language is screaming shame. This wasn’t a physical anthropomorphic representation of death, this was a lonely man looking for a friend. I felt a flash of power, knowing that I could hurt Death. Then immediately it was replaced by guilt because he’s my friend.

                I started laughing at the absurdity of my situation. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Death looked surprised at first and then joined in the laughing. I’m not sure if he knew what it was I found so funny, but given that he could read minds, I’d say there’s a good bet.

                After a solid five minutes of laughing, I finally wiped my eyes and casually asked “So how much longer do I have?”

                “Hard to say exactly” If he was surprised at my sudden question, he hid it well.

                “Will I get to say goodbye to my wife?”

                “I’m pretty sure. I’d say you have at least another week. Are you going to tell her?”

                I opened my mouth to answer and nothing came out. I honestly wasn’t sure. I love my wife and I wanted to spare her from the pain of that knowledge. But she’s my wife, she deserved to know. How do I tell her? How do I explain that I found out I’m dying because I’m friends with Death? Every question led to two more questions. It was like a hydra of anxiety was attacking my mind.

                “I don’t know” I finally squeaked out.

                “I can’t offer any advice on that. But ask yourself these two questions: Would you want to know? And secondly, Do you have the time?”

                Without thinking I glanced at the clock. It was 5:26 pm. I turned my head back to Death to answer him but he was gone. Beyond the void he left on the couch, I could see the door. The knob turned and my wife came through the now open door.

                “Hi babe” She greeted me with a smile, despite her long day at work.