I really don’t have time for this – the words shriveled in his mind.
Adam Cates really didn’t. Time was valuable, and he didn’t have much. Not after his responsibilities.
Whoever had said that the busiest person had the most time to spare wasn’t thinking of Adam; that was for sure. The money was piling in, but it afforded him no cushion. There was only one way the dollars came in, and that way involved time. If he didn’t devote the time, the dollars would stop flowing. That’s how he read the situation. He had moved to a head office several years ago, but he was still the same shopkeeper. The store’s gotta open; customers don’t wait.
He certainly had a gift. How many people thrived in an area dominated by superstores? He was a franchisee, not a fully independent owner, but he was a near-perfect match for the chain. After sweating ten years in one, he acquired enough knack to make two, then three, now seven franchises thrive. He had found the time to have two kids, but largely left them to the wife. Luckily, they were daughters.
As of now, all of them were enjoying themselves in a vacation home he had bought and hardly seen. He was alone when the figure had appeared in front of his king-sized bed. And then beside it.
He was too wearied to challenge it, or something akin to wearied. By habit, Adam shifted to treating whatever-it-was as a customer.
“So what brings you here?” he asked quietly.
He then heard this thing – cloaked in a dark robe that covered everything except for its nose – tell him that it was Death. He couldn’t make the connection, as he had missed out on a few things in life. It made a kind of sense, though, as a living human wouldn’t have gotten in this far. His security system was top-notch; he had seen to it.
Adam was fifty-three, and the hair was long gone from the top of his pate. If he were dead, it wouldn’t be that great a shock. He had already been to the funeral of one of his schoolmates – a hard-charger, like he was.
The thing continued, revealing that it wasn’t Adam himself that was kicking the bucket. Something it said made his orientation shift.
“So you want a deal?” Now his voice was louder, and sharper. “Why would I even do that – especially for some thing that doesn’t even knock and introduce himself?”
The terms came, which whetted his competitive streak. “No, that’s not good enough. The year’s too diffuse. There’s no way I’ll do it unless I know exactly.”
He heard some line about how the exact date would be useless because he’d take steps to avoid it. Whatever this thing was, he must have been a broker or professor in a previous life. Someone who thinks he knows business but doesn’t.
“Doesn’t bother me,” he answered confidently. “Maybe I want to push it back.”
He smiled, still in his bed, when the thing acquiesced. Another negotiation, completed. “Okay, I’ll do it. As long as it doesn’t take that long.”
After he had gotten up – and got a surprising glimpse of himself still sleeping before he was taken away – they arrived in an apartment. It was obviously one, with the standard doorless bedroom; he had looked behind again to check. Like so many others, she had died in her bed. A booklight was on, and she had died with a book. Enough light was given off for him to see bookshelves in her bedroom. It gave him a picture of what she was; she looked about eighty or so.
Death now spoke, in that deep rhymey voice of his. “This death used to be a woman who was intellectual. Commerce was a stranger to her; it passed beneath her notice. She consumed, but did not produce anything other than her writings. She has availed herself of the taxpayer while doing so.”
Unconsciously, Adam began shaking his head. Great – one of those people. It occurred to him that there was no penalty clause attached to the deal, but the observation drained away. Even if there were no formal penalty, you don’t get ahead by scoffing off. He had made a deal.
Since his mind had wandered, he asked for confirmation. “So all I have to do is get her ready to meet the great beyond. If I do that, you take her away, we go back, and I get back in my body. And I know when I’ll die.” The thing nodded.
A nod was as good as a signature. “And I get you back – how?”
Now his head was nodding. “Okay. I just call you in my head; fine. I’m ready to do it, and I can assure you that –“
With the “and,” Death was gone. Adam shrugged his eyebrows, and told himself that the thing was busy as he was. Which made sense, given how many people there were.
“Uh, excuse me.”
He now saw what he was sure Death had seen when he was roused. Now superimposed over her corpse, still lying peaceably in the bed, was a double image of the lady. This one’s mouth moved as she replied.
“I don’t know who you are. How did you get in?”
Adam hesitated, thinking of the best way to go, then went with: “I’m not really here, at least not physically.”
“Oh – I must be in a dream-state,” she answered. “I’ve never seen a strange man in my dreams, not in my own place. Maybe it’s something to do with – well, the state I’m in. I never really –“
Not quite meaning to, Adam cut in. “Actually, I should clear something up for you. You are, in fact, dead.”
The double image now showed perplexity. “Am I? Then why would I be seeing you? You look like a shopkeeper. Why would you be some kind of death-spirit?”
“By the way, I should tell you something: you can get up and move around if you like.”
She didn’t. “I’m still waiting for an answer.”
Yep, she was one of those. Probably a teacher in her spare time. “I’m an agent of that death-spirit. He was here just now, but had to go somewhere else. When you’re ready, he’ll show up and both of you will go to the afterlife.”
“Assuming that there is such a place.” She had gotten her hackle up, all right.
Best to drain it. “I should tell you that you were right about me. I do, in fact, own and operate seven hardware stores.”
“So I take it you’re doing this chore for a pecuniary motive.” There, in her tone, was what Death had mentioned.
“Miz, a large part of the world runs on incentives. Not just me, but lots of other people. I use ‘em myself all the time.”
“I have no doubt,” she disclosed with an indeterminate tone.
“Not to worry,” she continued, “you’ll get your pay-off.” It was then that her spirit-form rose out of her body. Her spirit-feet, unimpeded by the bedsheets, hit the floor quickly.
“Now hold on a minute,” he said edgily. “I appreciate the promptness, but I just wanted to ask you something. It’s the first time I’ve had to ask someone like you.
It didn’t quite come out right. “Where do you get your attitude from?”
She didn’t seem to take it that hard. A medium-sized woman, she neither bristled nor shrank. “I assume you mean, where I got my life path from.” Not waiting for confirmation, she continued.
“It came to me in a dream, when I was a girl. In this dream I was living with some friends near the waterfront. There were people there who passed us by, many quite well off. I wasn’t, nor were my friends who were there with me. None of the passers-by stayed; the only ones who did were my friends. The pavements where we were, were cracked; puddles formed in some of them. I don’t remember where we lived, but it was comparable.” Adam didn’t interpret, nor made notes while she continued. He just listened.
“I wandered off, towards the lake, perhaps to get away from everyone for a moment. While there, I saw the sun shimmering on the blue, blue water and swaths of silvery undulating plumes of sun on top. There was a spit in range, and the trees and the grass were highlighted with a kind of joy. It didn’t last long, but I had realized I had seen what no-one else would see. Not the people passing by, not those passing through. Not even my friends, as I was alone.
“I found that joy in reading. That is what made me what I am today.”
Adam didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he confessed that he never remembered his dreams.
It had gone as expeditiously as she had promised. Within a minute, she was gone with Death. Adam found himself back in his own room. Rather than look at his own body, he waited by the other side of the bed.
As promised, Death arrived – right in front of him. Adam looked up as he reminded the creature that he had fulfilled his part of the bargain. Not very assertively, either.
The creature nodded. “Now it is time for you to learn the time of your death. It will come on May the twentieth, in the Christian year 2023, in mid-morning. 10:36.”
“Thank you,” Adam replied humbly. Then, prompted by his careful mind, he added: “Could you please tell me how to – well, get back in my body?” The jocularity he had planned to add vanished.
“You need only go to your resting place and descend back to where you were. A wish will suffice.”
Thinking of nothing else to say, Adam thanked Death again. After a blink, it was gone.
While following instructions, the old man reviewed what he had experienced. Mid-morning, May 20th, 2023 – the date had gone right into the steel trap. But, that woman. She was something that he had never really encountered before, nor really respected. He now wondered why. In retrospect, she hadn’t had that much of an attitude. No charmer, certainly, but she wasn’t abrasive; at most, candid. Matter-of fact.
He had never bumped into someone who had been galvanized by a dream of that sort, into choosing a path that wasn’t really – well, usual. Everyone had dreams, but the dreams he was familiar with were meant for the real world – plans in disguise.
Still, she had lived. She wasn’t soured up, so she must have done something right.
As he saw his own body, Adam implemented the final instruction. Lying down, he wished himself back into it. As sleep claimed him, he wondered how his family was doing…and whether or not he was too hands-on for where he was now. He could delegate a little more...
