Conversations of Mortality: Black Widow

The brilliance of the morning sun kept Diane from opening her eyes while she let the calm ocean waves carry her back to the white sands of the beach. This daily routine was a form of therapy to her, a way for her to relax and imagine her troubles flowing from her mind and dissipating throughout the salty waters of the ocean.

The waves set her gently onto the beach then receded back out to sea. She crawled away from the water’s edge enough to avoid getting wet while the sun dried her tan skin and dripping black hair. She sat up, wrapped her arms around her legs and set her chin upon her knees and listened to the waves roll in to shore and out again like it has since its creation. Then she realized that the sound of the ocean was the only thing she heard.

Strange, she thought. The summer brought hoards of people to the beach, but she heard no voices. Large crowds meant traffic but there was no road noise coming from Sunny Beach Road. She didn’t even hear the obnoxious barking from Mr. Jenkins’ poodle two doors down? She opened her eyes and got to her feet. She stared up one side of the beach, then down the other and saw no one. She looked at the homes that lined the beach; each house, including hers, seemed lifeless. It reminded her of the hurricane from a few years ago when the entire neighborhood packed up and left in only a few hours leaving everything they owned behind. But she would have known days in advance if a hurricane had taken aim at the coast.

Something else was out of place. The colors she was seeing were not natural. The ocean had a dull blue, the sand a deeper brown that absorbed the sunlight, and the sky looked grey and melded with the clouds with only a thin, light border to define them. It was like an old photo chrome postcard that she collected on family vacations when she was a kid. Thinking the sea water had somehow interfered with her vision, Diane rubbed and blinked her eyes but it didn’t help. As her arms dropped away something on her left wrist made her gasp. The one inch long hour, glass shaped tattoo seemed to be glowing a bright red.

“What the hell is going on?” she said rubbing her thumb across the tattoo. “Where is everybody?”

“They’re around,” said a man’s voice.

It came from a few feet behind her making her jerk and stumble to the point she nearly fell to the ground. She spun around to see a tall, clean shaven man whose hair was as white as the suit that he wore. Neither of which was affected by the strange colors that she was seeing. His face was wrinkled and his cheeks sank slightly over the edges of his smile and a look into his eyes comforted rather than intimidated.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said.

She wanted to smack him but composed before telling him that it was okay. “I just thought I was alone out…” She looked the man over again before saying, “Wait. How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about the clients I represent, Mrs. Miller.”

“Great. You’re a lawyer.” Her heart sped up and her stomach twisted but she didn’t show it. This was familiar territory to her. “Only a lawyer would wear a suit to the beach.” She didn’t mean too but she took a step back toward the house.

“Company policy,” he said chuckling, “I was never really a fan of swimming shorts any way.”

Diane brushed aside the image of the man in swim trunks before saying, “And what company would that be?” Diane said.

The man straightened himself up but continued to smile. “Let’s just say that I work for the highest of authorities.”

“A government lawyer?” A chill ran down her spine. “Well if you’re looking for a new beach house there aren’t any around here for sale.”

“Mrs. Miller, I’m not here to buy a home and I don’t work for the government.”

She saw the impatience in his eyes but the smile on his face remained and it shook her deepest nerves. Sweat filled the lines of her palms. She wanted to get away and for a brief instant she thought about running. She knew she could outrun him. His strong smile couldn’t hide his frail legs. But her curiosity got the best of her and she stood waiting for him to explain what he wanted with her.

“My name is Paul. I have been assigned to represent you during the Conversation of Mortality.”

“The what?” she said.

“The Conversation of Mortality. You see, when a person dies, an assigned representative from Heaven, or Angels as we like to be called, and the Demons come together and discuss how you have lived your life. Once the facts have been sifted through the soul is sent to spend eternity in either Heaven or Hell.”

Diane stood in disbelief. There was no doubt that the man was crazy but she wasn’t sure of what he was capable of and she didn’t want to find out. She could almost feel the back door of the house behind her. It’s not far. Her cell phone sat on the counter just inside the door. She wouldn’t stop running until she hit the bedroom upstairs. From there her husband could keep Psycho Paul busy. But she needed to keep calm.

“So, your name is Paul, you think I’m dead, and you say you’ve come from heaven?”

“You’ve got it,” he said.

“Paul, was it?”

“Not the apostle. Just Paul.”

“Right.”

Go now. She turned to run but only took two steps before she bumped into something that knocked her backward to the ground. She gasped, searching for the breath that was knocked out of her. Embarrassed and angry she looked up to see what had impeded her escape and found another man standing a few feet from her.

This man wore a black suit with a matching fedora that shaded the top third of his face. Red glowing eyes pierced the shadow and stared down at Diane. She felt burning across her skin everywhere the eyes traveled and she thought that if they were to focus on one spot hard enough they would burn a hole through her. He stood just over four feet tall but that didn’t make him any less ominous.

Being in this man’s presence filled Diane with dread. She opened her mouth to scream but something stopped it in the middle of her throat like an invisible hand holding down her voice. Scared, Diane flipped over and scrambled away, trying to stand but only managing to trip on her own feet until she laid face first in the sand. She heard Paul laugh and when she looked up he was walking toward the dark figure.

“Hello, Vincent,” Paul said. “It’s been a long time. I see you’re still a hit with the ladies.”

“Go to Hell, angel,” the man said in a raspy growl. “Let’s just get this over with. I’ve got better things to do.”

“Charming as usual,” Paul said. “I guess you’re right though. This case is a rather easy one and should be quick to get through.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Paul,” Vincent said with a sneer. “This case is different. We aren’t taking her.”

Paul’s smile was gone, like he had just been slapped in the face. “What? What do you mean you aren’t taking her? This is a cut and dry case. Have you seen her file? She belongs with you.”

“Of course I’ve seen it,” Vince said with a snort. “I have it right here.”

The dark figure reached into his jacket pocket, Paul did the same and both men pulled out pocket sized notebooks and opened them. They were thick with paper and both had worn leather covers. Vincent’s grey hand shivered as it held the notebook. Diane took this as a sign that he was cold and assumed that he would no doubt claim to be a demon from Hell.

Diane sat up and watched the men talk. They now kept their voices low as if to keep her from over hearing. One man would point to his notebook while the other would shake his head then the other would do the same and the other would nod. One moment she heard Vincent huff and even say, “Absolutely not.” This would be followed by silence while the men thought of how they would proceed. Diane knew this was her chance to get away. The way the two were arguing she could be inside the house and on the phone with the police before they figured out she had gone. But instead she sat and watched two men that she had never met argue over who would take her. Where were they taking her and why? More importantly why did neither of them want her? Then Paul’s voice rang out, “Impossible! They will never accept this!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. She’s your problem, Paul,” Vince said. He folded his arms and looked out to sea.

Paul looked over his shoulder at Diane, then looked back and began whispering to Vincent. This brought Diane to her feet. She wouldn’t sit here like a belittled child watching her parents argue about how severe her punishment should be. She hated that feeling. It’s the feeling that made her the woman she is today. The reason that she takes shit from no one. She stood up and stormed toward the two men whom had stopped talking when she stood up. They looked dumbfounded when she stepped in between them and even more when she started speaking.

“Stop it! Look, I don’t know who the hell you guys are but I’m not going anywhere with either of you and I’m pretty sure I’m not dead. See?” She waved her hands in front of her face and down her body as if she were the letter board on Wheel of Fortune, complete with a smile. “No bullet holes, blood, or road rash, just the perfect specimen of a woman.” She kicked her hips to one side while saying this. She always felt sexy when she asserted herself to a man.

Vincent turned his back to Diane and waved his hand back and forth in the air. As he did his fingers brushed away the strange photo chrome colors that she had been seeing creating a window of bright, vivid colors she was accustomed to seeing each morning.

“Look here, woman,” Vince said pointing through the little window. Diane walked over and peered through the hole. There she saw people; the people she expected to see when she returned from her swim. They were all there, the children, the barking dog, and her neighbors just like every other morning. Most of them were huddled down by the water’s edge and were looking at something at their feet.

“What are they doing?” she said. She glanced at Vincent but he kept his eyes on the growing crowd and nodded at them as if to tell Diane to pay attention. When she looked back to them she saw her husband running down toward the water. “Oh, there’s James. James!” He didn’t flinch, he just kept running.

She watched him until he reached the large group of people. James broke into the circle and started waving his arms and yelled into the crowd, “Look out! Get out of the way! Give them some room!” The people shuffled back, stepping on each other trying to keep as close to the scene as possible. They moved just enough for Diane to get a better view of what they had been looking at. James stood over another man who appeared to be giving someone CPR. He gave a quick glance to James and Diane could see that it was Mr. Jenkins and that the victim was a woman. Mr. Jenkins started another round of chest compressions which caused the woman’s arm to jump off of the sand with each thrust. Diane wondered why James was so concerned over the woman. She wouldn’t care the woman died; in fact, part of her hoped that it was the blond woman that lived across the street. The one that was always too chatty with any man that happened by her front porch and curt with any woman that might be remotely attractive. But there was one glaring clue that told Diane that this wasn’t her blond woman. She hadn’t noticed at first but now her eyes were drawn to it. It was a small tattoo on the left wrist; a small, red, tattoo in the shape of an hour glass.

She stepped back from the window, her stomach churning and her knees weakening. Despite that, she stood herself upright, took a deep breath, and fought back the panic building inside her.

Vince smiled and said, “No, there are no bullet holes, blood, or road rash on that body. It’s the perfect specimen of a woman’s corpse. Your corpse in fact.”

“This is some kind of trick. Some sort of cruel joke.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Miller. I’m afraid it’s not a joke,” Paul said.

Tears welled in Diane’s eyes then she fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands. I must be dreaming. “I can’t be dead. I just can’t be dead.” But it was right in front of her.

“I’m sorry Diane. I really am,” said Paul. “It’s never easy to tell people that they have passed, even when you do it every day.”

Her thoughts rolled into the past and memories started to flash through her mind. Her birth, her parent’s arguments, losing her virginity at fifteen and the abortion that followed all came back to her. When she got to the memories of her marriages she started to cry. She didn’t need them to tell her where she would be going. She already knew.

“This case is an interesting one,” Paul said. “It’s a case like neither of us has ever dealt with before and one that is not easy to resolve.”

Diane wiped a tear from her eye and looked at Paul. “What do you mean interesting?”

“It means that after reviewing your file, neither of us are willing to accept you,” Vince said. The smirk on his face was enough to tell Diane that he was enjoying this.

“What?”

“You have managed to be married to four men. Three of which have died. This has allowed you to have a very comfortable life Mrs. Miller.”

“I know, but…”

“Each man died through mysterious circumstances that the police were never able to link to you.”

Vincent’s smile stretched across his shadowed face and in some twisted way Diane thought that Vincent was proud of her.

“It took time but you managed to get millions from each one of them. I’m curious Diane, how much is Jimmy boy over there worth?”

Diane squirmed a little and started to say something but Vincent interrupted her. “Don’t you lie to me. It’s all here.” He waved the notebook at her. “There is nothing that you have done in your life that isn’t written in this book. We know everything. From smoking behind the house as a child, spitting in people’s food as a waitress, wild orgies, and murder, it’s all in here. Satan calls you the Black Widow and has asked me to reject your entrance into Hell. Congratulations Mrs. Miller, you are the first mortal person that Hell doesn’t trust to have around.”

“But…”

“Yes, there are a lot of evil people in Hell Mrs. Miller, but after looking at this file we feel that you would be a potential risk to our day to day operations.”

“In cases like these Diane,” Paul said. “We have to take the case to higher levels for the decisions to be made.”

Each word poured salt on to her wounds and for a moment she tuned them out. She could understand not being welcomed to heaven with open arms but it made no sense to her why Hell wouldn’t take her either. In a strange way she was offended. Hell wasn’t a goal of hers and in some way it was a relief that she wasn’t wanted there but was there nowhere for her to go where she would be welcomed?

She stood up and brushed herself off. Then she looked at both men and said, “What are my options then?”

Paul frowned and shook his head. “I’m afraid there aren’t a lot of options. Waiting for a final judgment can take some time. In most cases a soul would have to stay in limbo until a decision is made. However, in this case an argument can be made that you probably shouldn’t be left to wander limbo alone either. It may be a big mistake.”

Vince nodded in agreement.

“But there must be something that you can do,” she said with tears streaking down her face. Then inspiration struck her; a possible reprieve. “If I can’t go to Heaven and I can’t go to Hell and I’m not allowed to roam through limbo alone then I guess you can’t let me die.” The men stared at her waiting to see what point she was heading for. “Just put me back in my body where I can live life waiting for you to decide where I belong,” Diane said. “Maybe I can fix some things before it’s my time to go with one of you.”

Paul started to say something but Vincent stopped him. “Now there’s an idea,” he said. Paul’s eyes bulged telling Vincent that he hadn’t caught on. “Paul, what harm would there be if she waited things out in her body?”

“I have a list of concerns about it.”

“Hold on Paul,” Vince said walking over to him. “Hear me out.”

Vincent pulled Paul away for a moment and they again spoke in an inaudible tone. This time she saw Paul smile and nod ending the argument in just a brief moment. The two walked back to Diane and Paul placed his hand upon Diane’s shoulder.

“You are right Mrs. Miller. It would be in the best interest of all parties involved to allow you to go back to your body until such a time that the proper judgment can be placed upon you,” Paul said.

She didn’t care to ask what changed his mind. It would be a question that she would later wish that she had asked. “What are we waiting for then? Put me back,” she said.

“Good luck Diane,” said Paul. “I am sorry.”

The room was dark and when she awoke. She heard a beeping in the background but nothing else. This is definitely not the beach, she thought. She tried to get up but couldn’t move. She started to panic but the struggle was all in her mind. Her body would not respond. Then she remembered seeing her body lying dead on the beach. They must have taken me to the hospital. They must have me pumped full of drugs and I’m too out of it to move. But I’m alive. Happy to be alive.

Muffled voices echoed from a distance then a door opened and she recognized the voice right away. It was James. He and the doctor were discussing her condition. The door closed and she heard the doctor speaking. “We are doing everything in our power to keep her comfortable Mr. Miller.”

“I know, Doctor.” James’ voice cracked as he said it and Diane wanted nothing more than to leap from the bed and hug him. But she still couldn’t move. “Isn’t there anything else you can do? Anything that can snap her out of it?”

Snap me out of what?

The doctor sighed. “I’m afraid, Mr. Miller, that coma’s are one of God’s greatest mysteries. Sometimes people come out of them in a few days. Some come out in a few years. Then again some people never come out of them at all. It’s impossible to know which it will be.”

A coma? Those bastard’s brought me back to be in a coma?

“Um, Mr. Miller, you have to understand that your wife was without oxygen for a rather long time. I have to warn you that even if she were to wake up, she may not be the same woman you knew. She will need a lot of medical care. It may be best to just let her…”

“Let her go? Watch her die again? Is that what you are suggesting Doctor?”

“Well, I…”

“No, thank you. When I can, I will take her home where she can rest comfortably. She has plenty of money for her medical expenses.”

“As you wish, Mr. Miller.”

They tricked me. They knew my body was broken. They knew. She was now a prisoner in her own body and with James wanting to keep her on life support she couldn’t even get back to limbo. This might be worse than Hell, she thought. If there were a silver lining in this it would be that she had finally found someone that truly cared for her. She had finally found a man that would be worth more by keeping him alive.

“I’ll leave you two alone, Mr. Miller and I’m truly sorry,” The door closed and she heard a single set of footsteps coming closer to her. She felt the warmth of James’ breath as he bent down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll always love you, Diane.” She loved him too. She was glad that she had changed her mind about sabotaging his brakes. “I will take care of you for as long as I live,” he said.

Diane heard the door swing open and quickly close. James walked away to meet another set of footsteps at the end of her bed.

“How is she doing?” a woman’s voice said.

“She’s alive and stable now,” James said.

“How are you doing?”

Diane recognized the voice. It was the blond bimbo from across the street. What was she doing here?

“I’m alright I guess,” James said. “I’ll take her home as soon as the doctors will let me. It’s hard to think about now.”

“Do you want me to bring you anything when you get home?”

You can get the hell out of here.

“Just the usual,” James said in a whisper.

The usual?

“Maybe tonight I’ll show you all the rooms of the house.”

The woman giggled at this and the door opened again but did not close. Their laughter faded down the corridor leaving the room silent of everything but the heart monitor which now sounded more like Morse code than a heartbeat. It was a reminder that she wasn’t dead and surrounded by those that wouldn’t trust her and a reminder that she was alive where she would be with the man that loved her. The husband that she had let live longer than any other husband before him, which turned out to be the one mistake she now lived long enough to regret.