Psychopomp and Circumstance

Psychopomp and Circumstance

PartI

Late one breezy October morning James Gillard decided that the time had come to unmake himself.  It was a surprisingly easy decision to make.  It wasn't that he was particularly unhappy with his life.  It was more that he was bored, and somehow suicide seemed like it would break up the monotony of teenaged life.  At first he tried taking the sort of laissez faire approach to death that he had to life. He sat on the edge of his king-sized bed and wished with all his might that his body might cease all anatomical functions.  Fifteen minutes later it became abundantly clear to that he was going to have to take a somewhat more proactive approach to leaving this mortal coil. 
                   But which method should he use?  James had heard of all the classic approaches; razors blades in the bathtub, lengths of rope tied into nooses, jumping off tall buildings, pills... it seemed there were as many ways to die as there were to live.  The razor blades seemed too messy, and unfortunately they don't teach you how to tie a noose in the Boy Scouts.  Few buildings in James' neighborhood rose above two stories, which seemed wholly inappropriate for the purpose of offing oneself.  Also, James was the only kid on his block without easy access to a veritable pharmacy of pain killers and antidepressants.  The strongest drug in his medicine cabinet was an old bottle of ibuprofen, and that hardly seemed like it would do the trick.
         No, it was becoming more and more clear that a gun was going to be the way to go.  But how does a 16 year old kid get his mitts on a handgun?  Luckily James did not need to look any farther than an unlocked drawer in his parents' bedroom.  The gun was older than James, and had sat unused in a sock drawer for 19 years.  Unfortunately for James his father had somehow neglected to buy any bullets. 
         James strained his 16 year-old brain trying to think of where he could purchase ammunition for a handgun without arousing too much suspicion.  He settled on trying the sporting goods department of his local convenience store.  He put on his hat and gloves -wouldn't want to catch cold- and walked the seven blocks between his house and the store. 
         At first James was worried that he wasn't going to be able to make his purchase.  The handgun ammo was kept on a locked shelf behind the counter, and there was a big sign saying that you had to be 18 or older to purchase ammunition.  Luckily for James it was a busy day for sporting goods, and the clerk accepted James' story about how his dad was just down the other aisle at face value.  The clerk handed James the flimsy cardboard box of 9mm rounds with the understanding that James' dad was going to check out at the front of the store.
         Of course James' father was sitting seven tenths of a mile away, enjoying a turkey sandwich blissfully unaware of what his son was planning.  James walked through the store until he was reasonably sure that he was out of sight, and pocketed a single round.  After all, one bullet was all he needed, and besides, even if he was old enough to buy the ammunition himself, he didn't have $56.95 to blow on bullets.  James stashed the rest of the bullets behind a grocery display and left the store with his face to the ground.
         Later that night James sat up in bed, carefully researching what he was about to do.  Based on the advice of a legion of anonymous nitwits he determined that the best way to ensure his speedy demise was to place the barrel of the handgun in his mouth at a slight upward angle.  The trick; or so James had heard, is to hit the brain stem to ensure a quick, irreversible death.  James shut off the computer and prepared himself for the end.
         It all came down to this; cold steel and the taste of gun oil in his mouth.  He wrapped his fingers around the trigger and squeezed.  There was a flash of heat and a sound like a bomb going off, and then an eerie silence unlike any James had ever experienced. Finally, there was a voice.
         "That was a remarkably silly thing to do."
         Death was nothing at all like what James had expected.  He was expecting some sort of skeleton bearing a scythe, instead he found himself face to face with a tall, gaunt man in his mid thirties.  He wore a pair of wire-framed spectacles on the bridge of his long pointed nose, and his long black hair was tied into a ponytail.  He was clothed in a surprisingly modern fashion, a simple black button-down and matching ebony slacks.  It certainly wasn’t the flowing black robe that James expected.
         "Wait a second.  You're Death?"
         "Well yes and no.  With over six billion people in the world Death has sort of had to expand.  Can you even imagine the number of souls that exit this world on any given day?  It's just too much for one being , no matter how powerful, to handle.  So, that's where the Reapers come in.  You can call me Tod, by the way."
         "Tod?! You have got to be kidding me."
         "Yes I know, sort of an underwhelming name for, well, you know.  The Grim Reaper.  But it's the name I was given, all those many years ago.  Back when I was a mortal."
         "Wait.  You were mortal?"
         "At one time, yes.  Actually I was a lot like you, which sort of leads us to the point I was going to make."
         "What do you mean?"
         "Well, normally committing suicide is a sort of 'go to Hell free' card.  But every once in a while, someone like you or me comes along and decides to blow his brains out, despite having a more or less pure soul.  Frankly, the only reason you or me would go to Hell is perhaps because we possess a little more curiosity than is really in our best interest.  So there's a deal.  You can keep your soul out of the flames, but only if you agree to take up the mantle of the Reaper."
         "You mean that I would be like you.  A Grim Reaper."
         "Exactly.  It's really not a bad way to spend eternity.  You get to meet a lot of interesting people, and being a Reaper has certain advantages in the afterlife.  We can move in and out of the afterlife at will, and we even get our own offices.  So, what do you think?"
         "Can I have some time to think?  I'm a little new to this whole being dead thing."
         "Certainly.  For the time being I'll leave you as a spirit.  You may walk the earth as you see fit.  When you're ready to make your decision just say my name."
         Without another word The Grim Reaper, or rather Tod, faded from sight.  James found himself alone in his room with his own mangled corpse.  It didn't take long for his parents to come bursting into the room.  James supposed that the sound of the gunshot would bring him running were it his house.  Watching his parents discover his body was not exactly James' idea of a good way to spend the night, so with a pang of guilt James turned and left the house he had called home for 16 long, boring years.
         It didn't take long for news of his death to spread thought the small community where he had once lived.  James felt no joy at seeing his friends and family wracked with guilt and confusion over his decision to check out early.  After all, he didn't commit suicide out of spite.  He just wanted to see what would happen next.  Now that he had found out, he wasn't so sure that he had made a wise decision.  Hell or an eternity of ferrying about the souls of the recently deceased.  Somehow it didn't seem like much of a choice.  Not even 24 hours had passed, and he was ready to make his decision.
         "So.  Ready to learn the ropes?"  Tod had once again appeared from nowhere.
         "How'd you know I was going to take the deal?"
         "It's a rare soul that chooses Hell when given an alternative."
         "I guess."
         "So, are you ready to go?"
         "Go?  Where?"
         "Oh, nowhere in particular.  The Void, I suppose you might call it.  A place that is neither Heaven nor Hell.  A sort of in-between."
         "I'm ready."
         "I hope you are James, I truly do."
         Once again silence enveloped James.  There was a slight pulling feeling in between the vertebrae of the back of his neck.  Slowly the light of the world around him faded away and was replaced by a darkness so complete James was unsure weather or not he had ever truly experienced anything else.
         "Welcome back James Gillard."
         Tod's voice beside him seemed impossibly loud.  Compared to the utter silence of this place even a whisper was like a jet taking off in his ears.  James felt like he could float here for an eternity and never know the difference.
         "What do you mean welcome back?  I've never been in this place before in my life."
         "Maybe not during your lifetime, but before.  This place is home to all the souls who have yet to be born into the world.  We all come from the Void, but only some of us return."
         "Why are we here? I can't see anything."
         "Give it a minute, it takes some time to adjust."
         Moments passed like years, but eventually James could start to make things out in the midst of the darkness.  Slowly but surely James could make out the form of a huge office building that seemed to stretch on forever.  The doorway was simple, austere even.  Above the doorway there was a huge golden shape, like a cross, but with a loop at the top.
         "It's an ankh, an Egyptian symbol of life and death.  It's sort of our logo."
         James didn't know much about Egypt, history wasn't exactly his best subject at school.  But somehow he felt a sense of kinship with this ankh thing.  The presence of this building was somehow comforting.  James was unsure of how much more emptiness he could take.
         "Well, let's get going, shall we?"
         The journey from where they stood to the building seemed to be almost instantaneous.  James supposed that things like time and space had little meaning here in the Void.  The inside of the building looked much like that of every office building James had ever seen on TV.  A serious-looking lady in a wispy black dress sat behind a bare reception desk.
         "That's Sylvia, she's Death's secretary.  More or less."
         The woman didn't look up.  Surprisingly she seemed occupied at what appeared to be a Macintosh computer.  "New recruit, eh?  Fill out these."  She said, pushing a large stack of forms in James' direction.  "Welcome to the exciting world of Death." 

Part II

         Tod’s office was a simple one.  The sterile white walls were completely barren, and his desk devoid of paperwork.  Propped up against the wall in one corner was the iconic scythe that James had expected to see earlier.
         “We really don’t use those things much these days.  There was a time when our main role was to protect the souls of the newly dead from all sorts of spiritual predators.  But most of them died off centuries ago.  Nowadays we’re mostly just glorified ferrymen.”
         James was a little disappointed that he wasn’t going to be spending his afterlife fighting off all sort of spiritual ne’er-do-wells.  The whole Grim Reaper shtick seemed less and less exciting the more he found out about it.”
         “The most important thing to remember is that these people have spent their entire life making the decisions that determine where they are going to spend the afterlife.  It may be hard, but you have to remember that you have no control over where any given soul ends up.”
         “So, do all souls go to either Heaven or Hell?”
         “Well, most of them do.  Some souls, such as those of newborns, are recycled –meaning they find their way back to the mortal world.  Others may end up here.  It used to be a rare soul that found its way back to the Void, but many atheists seem to prefer it to a more traditional afterlife.”
         “What happens if a soul doesn’t want to come with me?”
         “If a soul doesn’t want to travel to the afterlife it doesn’t have to.  I’m sure you’ve heard countless ghost stories.  Some spirits choose to remain earthbound, and some souls are just unable to accept what has happened to them.  It’s sad, but there’s no room in the afterlife for restless souls.”
         They had been talking for what felt like days.  Slowly but surely James was coming to terms with the role he was to play in the afterlife.  It may not be the most glamorous of jobs, but it sure as hell beat life as a teenager.
         “I think you’re starting to understand.  So, why don’t we go out in the field to get some on the job training?”
         Tod reached into his desk, and took out a small golden ankh on a fragile looking chain. 
         “This is for you; we all carry them with us.  It’s a symbol of our office, as well as a key to the afterlife.”
         He handed the ankh to James with a wry smile. 
         “It seems like just yesterday I was in your position.  This really brings me back.  Anyways, let’s get going.”
         The trip back to the mortal world was simpler than James thought it would be.  Once again he felt a tug on the back on his neck, and the familiar land of the living faded into view.
         “Eventually you’ll learn to travel to and from the realm of the living with ease. But for now it’s easier for me to take you.”
         They were now in the middle of a city James had never been to before.  The mortals around them went to and from their places of business, oblivious to the Reapers in their midst.
         “So why are we here?”
         “You’ll see.”
         An old man was crossing the street about half of a block ahead of them.  He had a shock of wiry grey hair, and could walk only with the aid of a heavy metal cane.  Not even James, with the eyes of the dead, saw the car until it was much too late. In the end it came down to a simple matter of physics.  3000 lbs. of metal moving at 45 miles an hour against a 84 year old man weighing a mere 115 lbs. the results are inevitable.  It took a bit of looking, but James thought he could actually see the soul leaving the old mans body.
         “So this is how it ends, eh?  Mowed down by some kid with a lead foot.  Feh.”
         In death the old man stood much straighter than in life.
         “So I suppose you two are here to take me to the great beyond.”
         “Something like that.”  Tod said with his trademark wry smile.  He pulled a clipboard seemingly out of nowhere.  He turned to James and said, “you’ll find that in time you too will be able to take things you’ve stored in the Void from almost anywhere.”  He then turned to the recently deceased and said, “Frank Richter is it?  It says here that you’ve outlived both of your children, I’m glad to say that they’re waiting for you behind a certain set of pearly gates.”
         “I always knew that they had found their way up there.”  The old man said with a wistful look on his face.  “84 years, and I’d trade the half of it just so that they could have lived instead of me.”
         “I’m sorry to say, Mr. Richter that we are all given but a lifetime.  As for the number of years therein, well, I suppose that’s up to providence.”
         
"Providence.  Feh.  They were good boys.  But that doesn’t matter now.  Just take me to them."
         “Take my hand Mr. Richter.”  Tod reached into his shirt, and took out the ankh, in a moment they were gone.
         The gates of Heaven were unlike anything else that James had ever seen in his life or after.  They rose far above James’ field of vision, and were so wide that it seemed all the armies of earth could march through them in a single row.  James was at a loss as to how they were supposed to open this behemoth structure.  He was not left to wonder for long, as a figure appeared to greet them. 
         “Greetings Tod, and I don’t believe I’ve met your young friend here.””
         The figure before them was clothed in a robe of pure white linen.  The beard, the long white hair, it was like something out of a movie starring Charlton Heston.
         “Hello there Brother Michael.  We’ve got a fresh one for you.”  Tod said.  “Oh, and this is my trainee, James.” 
         “It’s always nice to meet a new Reaper.  Anyways, I’ll take it from here.”  Brother Michael said with a genial smile.  “Until next time.”
         Brother Michael took the hand of Mr. Richter and began to walk towards the gates as Heaven began to fade from James’ view.  Soon they found themselves back on earth, ready to make another pick-up.  This time they were in a forest.  About a hundred yards ahead of them stood a dusty shack.  The doorway was not inviting.
         “This one’s going to be a handful, I just know it.”  James is surprised to see that Tod is now carrying the gigantic scythe from his office.  “Stay here; I don’t want you to have to see this sort of thing too early in your career.”
         Tod covered the distance to the shack in a matter of moments.  He walked straight through the door without bothering to open it.  There were certain benefits to being insubstantial, James had to admit.  A few minutes passed before Tod emerged from the shack, now carrying the end of a heavy chain.  Behind Tod was a burly man bound in shackles.  As they came closer James could make out what appeared to be bloodstains covering the bound man’s hands.
         “This is Colin Kerry.  He’s killed about 15 women, but unfortunately for him the last one was just a little too much to handle.  I hope that we won’t be returning for her, she looked pretty bad.”
         James was speechless.  It never occurred to him that he was going to have to deal with people of this sort.
         “I know what you’re thinking James, but don’t worry.  One like him comes along only once every couple years.  Now, onwards to Hell.”
         The gates of Hell look conspicuously similar to the gates of Heaven.  Save the fact that they appeared to be made out of the bodies of sinners rather than opulent jewels.  Once again someone was out to meet them, but this figure was as far from the kindly Brother Michael.  The demon –for truly that was the only thing that James could call it—was nearly 20 feet tall, completely naked, it’s head large and globular and devoid of eyes, ears, or nose.  Its mouth, however, was very much there, large and gaping with bloodstained teeth.
         “Oh boy, fresh meat.”
         “Hey there Reznik, how are things in Hell?”  Tod seemed faintly amused at the demon’s presence.  James was not.
         “Same as ever, shame that you won’t be joining us.”
         “I hope that you’re not insulted if the feelings aren’t mutual.”
         “Don’t worry Reaper.  Hell can wait.”
         Without another word the creature wrapped a single enormous hand around the bound form of Colin Kerry, turned, and dragged the serial killer to Hell. 
           “Toss another one on the fire!”  The thing’s laugh was the worst thing that James had ever heard.
         “I think that will be enough training for today” Tod’s voice was warm and welcome beside him.  Once again there was a pull on the back of James’ neck, and the Void came into focus.

Part III

         Slowly but surely Jame’s training passed. It wasn’t long before he was ready to start guiding souls on his own.  His first several cases passed without incident, but it wasn’t long before he found himself in uncomfortably familiar territory, the house he had lived in for 16 years.
         “No.  It can’t be.”
         James couldn’t even imagine what he could have been sent back to this place for.  Surely it was a mistake.  Surely Death couldn’t be so cruel as to send him after his own family.  Unfortunately, that was exactly what had happened.  He found his mother’s body lying naked in the bathtub the water had run red with blood.  Nothing could have prepared him for the sound of his mother’s voice, now so broken and defeated.
         “James?  Is that you?”
         “Mom” It was almost a question, not quite a statement.
         “I knew I’d see you again.  Thank God.”
         “What, what’s going on?  Mom, what did you do!?”
         “I just couldn’t live without you anymore.  You left us so alone James.  I just couldn’t take it.”
         “Mom, I’m so sorry.  I never wanted to hurt you.  I just… I just wanted to see what was next.”
         “You always were a little too curious for your own good James.  It was one of the things I loved most about you.  Now step aside, I’m sure Death will be along for me any moment now.”
         “Mom… I’m not sure how to say this, but I’m Death.”
         “What?  How can that be?”
         “They offered me a deal.  I killed myself, but they let me be a Reaper instead of.  Oh God.”  James couldn’t even stand to think of what was coming next.
         “What James, what is it?”
         “Mom, you killed yourself.  Mom, I have to take you to Hell.”
         She stood there for a moment, all bodiless and alone.  “I… I guess I knew as much.  It was worth it just to see your face again.”
         “Mom, no.  I won’t do it.  Wait here.”
         Eyes filled with tears, James spirited himself back to the Void.  Surely Tod would know how to fix this.
         “James, there’s nothing you can do.”
         They were back in Tod’s office.  His face was a mask of professionalism but by now James could tell when he was upset. 
“I know it seems cruel, but every Reaper has to take their own family when they go.  It’s supposed to confirm your dedication to the post.  As to the placement of your mom’s soul… I told you from the start, we only facilitate the transition between the living world and the next.  We don’t make those decisions.”
         “I can’t give my mother over to those monsters in Hell!”
         “I can understand how you feel.  Take a little time.  Think it over.  I’m sure that you’ll come to understand.”
         “Why can’t she just be one of us?”
         “I’m sorry James, she lived too long, she made the decision to kill herself knowing full well what would happen.  There’s nothing we can do.”
         James’ face was contorted with a mixture of rage and shame.
         “She only killed herself because of me.  It was my selfishness that dragged her down.  If anyone should go to Hell it should be me.”
         “I don’t want to tell you this.  But I have to.  You can go with her James.  Your ankh gives you the power move in and out of Hell at your leisure.  Go with her James.  Go with her, and then once she’s comfortable --or as comfortable as you can make her—come back.”
         “I can’t just leave her there.”
         “You’re going to have to.”
         James willed himself back to the living world.  Back to the home of his youth.  Back to his mother.  Her spirit was clothed now; she had left the bathroom and was now waiting on the front steps.
         “I’m ready James.  Take me to Hell.”
         “I’m coming with you.”
         “James, no.  I forbid it.  I knew what I was doing.  You’re innocent.  I forgive you James.  I forgive you.”
         “I’m not leaving you there alone.  Come on, take my hand.  We’re going to Hell.”
         Reznik was ready and waiting for them.  Apparently news of what James was about to do had traveled fast through the underworld.  Tod was there and surprisingly so was Brother James.  They gathered around the gates of Hell.  Ready to watch the youngest of the Reaper’s give his soul over to Hell.  They seemed to have anticipated what was coming next.  James walked over to Tod, and took the ankh from around his neck.
         “You’re making a mistake.”
         “The only reason any of us is here is because I made a mistake.  I have to own up to what I did.  To myself and to my family.”
         “It is a noble thing you’re doing, James Gillard.”  Brother James looked to be on the verge of tears.
         “We all have to grow up sometime.”
         Arm in arm, James Gillard and his mother walked forward into the gates of Hell.  Somehow James knew that even this was simply another beginning.

END

ATH 7/09