The Afterlife
“Hello?...Hello?! Is anyone there?”
Through the fog, he saw a line of doors. Some red, some blue, some large, some small. There was one that was old with a cobwebbed, brass knocker in the middle and one that was metal and shiny. Then, along the endless row, he came to a door that was as tall and as wide as he was. Actually, it looked exactly like the door to his apartment. There was a number on the door.
“417,” he read aloud, “I wonder what that means.” If he would have known any better, it would just be an average address number, but that wasn’t the number on his apartment door. He looked around at all the other doors; they all had numbers on them too. Why did he stop at this one? Staring at door number 417 for another minute or so, he turned the handle and pushed the door open. On the other side of the door was a woman, staring right at the spot where he appeared, like she was waiting for him.
“Hello, George.” she said, quite calmly and with a smile.
“What is this place?”
“I’m sorry George, but you had an accident. It was quite sudden, very instant, but it appears as though you didn’t experience any pain.”
“What are you talking about? What accident? Tell me where I am!” George was getting slightly hysterical now.
“You’re dead George. Welcome to the afterlife.”
George stared at the mysterious woman in disbelief. How could he be dead?! He had never taken any dangerous risks, had no deadly diseases that he knew about. But then this woman had spoke of an accident.
Not sure if he wanted to know the answer, he asked slowly, “What accident? How did I...die?”
“It was a car crash. Very common and not very exciting I’m afraid, but it’s the truth. I’ve been waiting to meet you officially for a long time.”
“You mean you wanted me to die?”
“Of course not. But we were only children when we first met and seeing as how we were in a hospital, we couldn’t really play together, what with your broken arm and my illness. But I always wondered what you were like.”
He remembered. When George was nine, he had broken his arm while riding his bike. There was a small girl in the bed next to him, about six or seven years old. She was pale and sickly, but had a nice smile.
“You died? From...leukemia right? I’m sorry. But if you died when you were a child, why do you look the way you do now?”
She was tall and slender, with dark brown hair that was tied back loosely. Her simple white dress had a red ribbon at the waist. She looked very normal for being in such an odd place, but still very pretty. The only thing that George thought odd about her was that she was barefoot.
“I never got the opportunity to grow up, so when I got here, I imagined myself older, and it happened. Now, I’m sorry for rushing you, but if you have no more questions we really must be going.”
With that, she turned and started walking into the distance.
“Wait! I never got your name!”
“It’s Lucy!” she called back. “Hurry up!”
And without another word, George raced after her.
..............................................................................
Looking around, all George could see was white space with a light fog near the ground. It was odd; there was no noise, no people, not even a definable temperature. It wasn’t warm, it wasn’t cool, the air was just there. The place was a void, peaceful but slightly unnerving. Lucy walked in front of him, not speaking and not breaking her fast and steady pace.
Only to break the eery silence, George asked her, “So, where exactly am I? I thought Heaven was supposed to have a golden gate with angels telling you if you made it in or not.”
She laughed. It was a very sweet laugh, like the wind chimes hanging on the porch of his childhood home. “Sorry to say, this isn’t Heaven,” she said.
“Oh...so, I’m in...” George mumbled, his eyes wide with worry. Of course
, George thought, if this is Hell, it doesn’t seem that bad, to say the truth.
“No, you’re not there either.” There was a smile in her voice. “No, this place isn’t really even a place. It doesn’t have a name, no end or beginning. It’s nowhere and everywhere all at once.”
George’s head was buzzing. What in the world was she talking about? He decided not to ask anymore questions, partly because he was afraid of an answer and partly because he figured he would find out soon enough. All of a sudden, Lucy stopped. Lost in his subconscious, George almost ran into her. They were both silent for what felt like, in George’s mind, was forever but in all reality, it was probably about two minutes.
“Hm. I guess we’re early.”
She leaned up against what George now saw was a tall post of signs, with arrows pointing in different directions. One sign pointed left, saying that that was the way one should go to get to number 385. One sign pointed in the opposite direction to number 113. As George read the last of the signs, he realized the numbers had changed; all the signs were different. Right before his eyes, the numbers started to flip and spin. It looked like the same system as a slot machine.
“What do these numbers mean? When I came through the door, the number 417 was on it. I’m not sure why I chose it.” He said the last sentence slowly, as if lost in his own questions.
“I don’t think I’m the right person to tell you that.”
“And what can you tell me?’ He was starting to get angry now. He wanted answers and wanted them now. He had been patient, accepting of his fate. His patience was growing thin.
“Well, I have told you all that I can, for now that is. You first have to meet Damian, he can explain everything you need to know.” Although she was still calm, there was a slight change in her voice when she said Damian’s name, almost like it was cursed.
“Ok. So when this Damian shows up, what will happen to you?” He didn’t want her to leave, even if she was being secretive.
“Oh, I’ll be waiting right here. Once Damian has had his turn, it will then be mine to explain what happens to you next.” She looked a little nervous when she said, “ No matter what Damian says to you, don’t feel like it’s your only choice. Remember that I’m waiting for you.”
She seemed protective in these last few moments. George was about to ask what she meant by “only choice” but was interrupted by the sound of far off but clear foot steps coming towards them. Lucy stood up straight, staring intensely at the spot where Damian would soon enter.
He was tall, thin, and had an almost urban appearance. He wore torn jeans with a dress shirt and jacket. He was not barefoot, like Lucy, but had ragged tennis shoes. His dark, curly hair was shocking against his pale skin. He smiled, but it was not, George felt, a friendly gesture.
“Lucy, how nice to see you again.” His voice was saturated with a fake politeness. George was reminded of the young intern at the office who would probably kill anyone who got in his way of making a good impression in front of the boss.
“George, this is Damian. He’ll show you the rest of the way.” Once again, there was something off in her voice. George felt skeptical of going with Damian, but was so curious for answers that he didn’t have a choice.
George looked at Lucy for reassurance before walking away with Damian. As he passed her, she whispered, “Don’t forget” in a voice so small that only he could hear.
.........................................................................
Damian led the way, fists inside his pockets, not showing any signs of starting a conversation. George wondered how far they were going to walk and where they were walking to, but didn’t ask these questions out loud. They both walked, one in front of the other, in silence. After a while, they came to what looked like an office, but there was not a door or any walls. It was simply a large, mahogany desk with a leather chair behind it, a file cabinet, and a large, full bookshelf. Damian walked to the bookshelf, picked a book at random, and started to read while sitting behind the desk. George stared at him in amazement. Wasn’t this the guy who had all the answers?
George took the book from Damian’s hands and set it on the desk. Damian looked up at him and sighed.
“So, what do you want to know?” Damian said, annoyance in his voice. He was obviously tired of his job.
“Whatever you can tell me,” said George. His voice was as calm as Lucy’s, but his face was stern; though he looked the part, he was far from confident.
Damian stared at him, a quick look of shock on his face before going back to his fake smile. He laughed softly and said, “Well, I have to admit, after the many, many years I have had this position, I have never heard that answer before. Usually, the only thing people want to know is why and how they died.”
George kept his serious pose. “I’m not concerned on why I’m here. And I already know how I died. I do want to know what the numbers mean. More importantly, I want you to tell me what happens to me after this.”
“Well, you get right to the point, don’t you. That’s good, because I don’t like people who are panicky and I hate criers.” He got up then, walked over to the file cabinet and started to search through all the papers inside. He finally pulled out a thin file with the number 417 written on the tab, opened it, and started to read.
“Number 417. Name, George Thomas Downey. Age, 35. Place of residence, Albuquerque, New Mexico, U.S... Does this sound correct to you?” George nodded. Damian continued, “Mr. Downey, being number 417, is in need of stability and ambition through which he will obtain knowledge. Well, there you have it.” Damian looked up and smiled, like he had accomplished something. But George was still confused.
“What does that mean?” George asked. What did it mean to be stable and have ambition. True, George never thought much about promotion in his work or a need for change. He was content with his life, even if it wasn’t exciting or unique. And as for knowledge, he lived, he died, what more was there to know?
Damian took out a pen and a pad of paper from the desk drawer and started to write. When he was finished, he turned the pad of paper around so George could see. He pointed to the numbers and symbols as he talked. “In numerology, numbers are considered symbols for all matters in the universe. The number 4 means that a person is in need of stability in their life (he pointed to a picture of a tree). He is in need of finding his roots and seeing where he came from. The number 1 means that you need ambition, some sort of drive to get you to your goal (he then pointed to an arrow). Your goal, in particular George, is to obtain the knowledge of your future.” The last picture was of a sun with long, flaming rays.
“But I’m dead. How can I have a future if I’m dead?” This made no sense, and George was only getting a headache from trying to understand.
“Just because you are no longer breathing it does not mean that your soul is gone.” Damian seemed to be getting frustrated himself. He marveled at how little humans knew about the world. “Because you are here, because you had a number in these files and because you chose the right door, you have been given the opportunity to make a very important decision: to move on to the next world or to go back to the physical world in which you will live a new life, one in which you can start over and hopefully reach your goal.”
So this is what it came to? Being reborn or moving on?
“Where is the next world?” George felt like he already knew, but of course he was constantly unsure in this place and with these strange people.
“Heaven or Hell, either one,” Damian said with a wave of his hand, “But it is not for any one of us - not even you - to decide which one you will go to if you decide to move on. The life you left behind can only prove that.” He went to the chair and sat down in it, leaning back with his hands behind his head.
George nodded. That part made enough sense where he didn’t argue. The only thing now was to make a decision.
“What would you do?” he asked. At this, Damian smiled, like he had a rehearsed answer ready and waiting.
“If I were you, I would take the chance. I mean, you already lived once right? And only while living can you experience pain, so why would you want to live another life full of pain and misery, one in which has the possibility of being worse than the life you left behind. And, no offense, but yours was a pathetic existence.” He got up then, and walked around the desk. He put his arm around George’s shoulders and started to lead him out of the office, back towards the direction they came from. “Yeah, I would take the chance of moving on. I mean, so far as I know, you never committed any crimes or did any hateful things. There’s a pretty good, maybe even definite, chance that you would be going to Heaven. So, really, there’s nothing to lose.” He turned to him then, and made a wide smile. George only looked at Damian in the same, serious way. The offer sounded very tempting, and very reasonable. Of course, it was a pretty big risk; pain on earth was one thing, but the possibility of being in eternal agony wasn’t something George wanted to think about. At that moment, Lucy’s words came back to him. She was waiting for him and she had something to tell him, too.
“I still have to think about it,” George told him.
The smile fell fast, but then Damian laughed and said, “What’s to think about?”
“Just give me some time.” George then walked past Damian, leaving him standing with his back turned. Damian straightened his jacket, and walked in the opposite direction. Only faintly, and maybe even out of his imagination, George thought he heard Damian say, “You’ll come back.”
.........................................................................
George kept on walking. He didn’t exactly know if he was going in the right direction, but he knew as long as it was away from Damian, it was the right way to be going. After walking for some time, he came back to the sign posts. Lucy was sitting on the ground, waiting for him just like she said. When George approached, she looked up and smiled.
“I’m glad you came back,” she said.
“I’m glad you waited,” said George.
As she didn’t get up, George sat down next to her.
“So, answer me one question, before we talk about what happens next.”
She nodded and smiled.
“Why don’t you have the same choices as me? Why can’t you move on?”
She was surprised that he asked this, but only because no one else ever cared to hear about her story. Lucy didn’t know if she should, but she decided to tell him anyway.
“Like I said before, I died when I was little, so I didn’t really live a completed life. Because I was young, I had more unanswered questions than most who came here. I didn’t have a number, I wasn’t ready to have one yet, but I was still meant to. I had a life all planned out, but died before I could see it happen.”
George was listening intently, saddened by her story, but still curious. She continued.
“When I cam here, I saw the line of doors, like you did. I walked down the row until I came to a plain, white one. There wasn’t a number on it, like the others, and I was intrigued by the break in the pattern. Naturally I went through that door, as I should have, and I ended up right here at the sign posts. I wasn’t met by anybody, but I knew that I wasn’t in Heaven. I sat here for quite some time, wondering what to do next. After a while, I heard someone coming. I stood up and saw Damian walking toward me, eating an apple and not looking up from the book he was reading. He was on his way to meet someone who had just come from another door. When he saw me, he was surprised because I wasn’t expected to be there. He explained to me where I was and what his job was. Because of the unusual circumstance, he told me that if I wanted, I could stay here and help him meet people who came from the doors. I agreed, but only if I could look older, the way I do now. And I’ve had this job ever since.”
She ended her story and while George was still thinking about what she just said, Lucy asked him, “I suppose Damian told you what 417 meant?”
George, startled by such a quick change of subject, nodded and said, “He told me that my goal was to find out what’s to become of my future. The way I see it, if I choose to move on, then I don’t have a future. At least not one that’s on earth. So, if I’m to find out what my future is, I might as well go back to earth, and not to the next world, wherever that might be.”
She stared at him in amazement and smiled. “Well, then I guess I don’t have much explaining to do if you’ve already chosen what you wanted.” She got up then. George did too, and before Lucy could start walking away, he grabbed her arm.
“Hold on, I haven’t made a decision yet,” he told her.
She looked around, with confusion on her face and questions in her eyes.
“But you just said...”
“I said that it would make sense for me to go back to earth, but not that I wanted to.”
“But I don’t understand,” said Lucy, with disappointment in her voice, “Why wouldn’t you want to go back to earth? Why would you deny the opportunity to start a new life?”
George looked at her and said quietly, “I don’t want a new life.”
“Well why not? You don’t understand, I would love to have this opportunity, and your throwing it away!”
It was the first time he had seen her frustrated like this. She had seemed so calm all this time, but she was human once, after all. Maybe she was still. Maybe they still kept their humanity even after they were dead. George understood why she was angry; she was only a child when she died, so the opportunity to live a full life was the only thing she wanted.
“If thats what you really want, we better get you back to Damian.” She walked quickly past him in the direction of Damian’s office. George ran up to her and blocked her path.
“I may not want to go back to earth, but I definitely don’t want to take Damian’s offer. I don’t really like taking risks,” he said.
Lucy only looked at him, more confused than ever. “So what is it that you want to do?” she said.
“Well,” said George, “I was thinking about just staying here.”
Lucy laughed and said, “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? I don’t see any better option.”
“The better option is for you to go back to earth, where you belong, where you can live,” said Lucy. She walked away from him, but then stopped and turned around. She looked on the verge of tears; she was more frustrated than before. She didn’t understand.
“Tell me, are you happy that you’re dead?”
George couldn’t form the words for an answer. The reason for this was because he didn’t know what the right answer was to give. If he said yes, he would be asked why a thousand times. If he said no, he wouldn’t feel that his answer would be completely truthful. He would have rather lived, but only to see if his life could get better. For him, that was a good reason to live, it meant that he had hope. And whatever and wherever this place was, and no matter where he went from here, he didn’t feel that he was missing anything back in the living world. He was never afraid of death, and he still wasn’t.
“No matter how bad my life seemed, I never would have chosen to die. But I’m here now and I can’t do anything about it. I’m sorry that your dead.” He truly was. If there was a way... “I’m sorry that your stuck here. But I’m not sorry that I ended up here, too. I’m not sorry that I got this chance to meet you.”
They stared at each other, both silent, the same scared look on their faces. She reached out her arm, he grabbed her hand. They walked into the fog of the void, not knowing what would happen next, but hoping that they would be together.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 12.04.2010
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Widmung:
To the Colorado State University creative writing group: Katie, Josh, Jeff, and Scott. Couldn't have done it without you guys.