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Sgt. Gordon crouched over the bloody red puddle which was all that was left of the victim. “Jesus…” he murmured silently, shaking his head. He’d seen road kill on more than one occasion but this one was particularly nasty. There was absolutely no identifiable piece of this person, and there were quite a few pieces spread across the road. “You okay?” Asked Brady, he was pretty new and stayed as far as he could from what appeared to be the bulk of the corpse, namely the bigger puddle. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Were there any witnesses? Anyone see anything?” “Yeah, there are a few. The driver says this guy just ran in front of the car, but that’s what we always hear from the drivers.” It was true. Gordon couldn’t recall many cases where the driver immediately admits having fallen asleep while driving, or taking his or her eyes off the road. The explanation always starts with ‘he jumped right in front of me, officer!’ “Go on”, he said. “Well”, Brady continued, “the real interesting info comes from the bystanders. They all say the victim, apparently a middle aged male, really did run into the road. But he wasn’t running away, so they say, he was laughing hysterically, yelling ‘I’m invincible’ and ‘I can’t die’.” Gordon stared blankly at Brady for a moment. He shook his head again. Sometimes he thought this job would get the better of him. How much longer would he be able to see yet another life pointlessly down the drain? “Fine Brady, thanks. Do me a favor and scatter those people ok? There’s not much to look at, anyway.” Brady turned and walked towards the slowly thickening herd of people circling the accident site, hands raised and waving. Nothing to see here people, go back to your homes. If only there really was nothing to see Gordon wished, as he did so often, to himself. He really wished he could understand God’s plan. Why was it important for this guy to die, and so gruesomely? He crouched to have one last look at the red puddle, flesh floating in it like meatballs in gravy, and then got up and into his cruiser, waiting for Brady to come in as well. He would drive back to the precinct and life would carry on as it always does, and he would never know why. Tom sat hunched, gripping his feet in a corner. He was rocking back and forth absentmindedly, like we all do while in serious thought. He was replaying images in hid mind, ones he would remember forever. He could remember every muscle movement his body made and every small insignificant thought that had occurred to him in Sandra’s final moments; the image of Sandra looking at him, sitting in the passenger seat next to him, and he could remember her scream as clearly as if he was hearing it now. These things come up at you like a shark from seemingly calm water, and it’s the biggest fucking shark you’ve ever seen. He couldn’t comprehend why the hell he survived. It didn’t make any sense at all. She was the one wearing the seatbelt for crying out loud! He practically never put a seatbelt on while driving; it always bothered him and made him feel uncomfortable. He figured he had more chances of having an accident if he kept thinking about the damn seatbelt than the road. He left out a few crucial variables to that theory, meaning the other drivers on the road. Maybe deep inside every person really does believe that if he’ll be okay he won’t be in an accident, and that might be true, but not every person is okay and if that person has an accident it is most likely that all the people near him will have one too. That’s what happened, in a nutshell. That’s how he preferred to tell the story because it hurt to relive it too much, and he was already doing that in his nightmares. His Fiat was cruising smoothly along the road, no bumps or rain or anything to make the trip remotely hazardous. He and Sandra were in the car, and he remembered she’d told him a good joke. He couldn’t recall what it was but it had made him laugh heartily. It was just about the only thing he couldn’t remember about that day, and he didn’t understand it. He remembered her expression as she spoke, and how big and beautiful her mouth got when she laughed, her lips forming a red aura around it, but he couldn’t make out what she said. He did remember how funny it was, though, Sandra had the best jokes, God knows where she got them. The truck came out of nowhere. That’s the most common line, ridiculously false. The truck didn’t come from nowhere, it was right down the road and he saw it coming, and so did anyone who bothered to look. But Tom didn’t think, couldn’t possibly conceive that the truck would swerve in on them like it did. Later, in the trial, Tom found out that the driver, Adam Bower, was in fact intoxicated and was leaning to get a beer can that had fallen to the floor when the steering wheel gave in under his weight and rammed the little Fiat right on the side. They would have survived if they were out in the country or a field. But they weren’t. They were right in the heart of the city and they went flying right into the nearest telephone pole. The front of the car nearly broke in two as the pole ran through it almost hitting the windshield. Tom, unbound by a seatbelt flew right through the glass and hit the sidewalk with a bone-breaking force. Sandra was still in the car, and even as Tom got up and staggered toward it, bleeding terribly from his chest and broken nose, his right arm dangling lifelessly beside him, he believed she was okay. He saw her motionless figure through the cracked window but as he came closer he knew there was no point in trying to wake her up. The seatbelt must have been too high and close to her throat; when the car came to its sudden stop her neck simply snapped as it was pushed violently against the seatbelt. Her eyes were open, but not fully, she had a hazy, empty look on her face. Her head was drooped against her chest and blood was dripping from her mouth. Tom knew he would never forget that image of her, no matter how many smiling pictures of her he kept near him. Now, sitting in his apartment, nothing but a dull void to him, he began to speculate. ‘Why?’ was the first and most obvious question that sprung to his mind. The simple answer would have to be ‘you got hit by a truck, stupid! That’s why.’ But that’s not what he meant. Why her? Why someone who never did anything wrong in her life, someone whose very existence made his life worth living? He didn’t want to move a muscle until he figured out a satisfying answer. He hadn’t shown up for work in a while, and he wondered how long his boss would keep showing him kindness and understanding. Sooner or later he’d fire him if he didn’t show. Tom didn’t care. Nothing mattered now. Jim, a friend from work, was on his way now, probably with a six pack and some smokes. Not that Tom would drink or smoke, but at least they’d keep Jim occupied until he felt he had no more obligation to stay. Jim was a good friend but he never felt comfortable in situations like these, he felt he didn’t know how to console people properly. Tom got up to the sound of a knock at the door and let Jim in, who was indeed holding a six pack and the smokes tucked in his jeans pocket no doubt. “How’re you doing?” he asked, and sat next to Tom against a wall on the floor. “Same as yesterday…” Tom sighed. It seemed that Jim was already at a loss for words. Tom appreciated his gesture; he needed someone to talk to even if he couldn’t talk back. “I just don’t know why, Jim. I mean, I know why, I don’t know why?” Jim looked at him, comprehension in his eyes. “How can I believe in anything good when this kind of thing happens?” Jim remained silent, looking at the floor, apparently in deep thought. Then he spoke, and proved divine coincidences could happen. “I have a confession to make”, he said, and Tom just looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “I had a talk with Earl from personnel yesterday, you know him.” Jim looked at Tom and he nodded in approval. “Anyway, he was ranting on and on about this guy he met on the subway, one of those freaks you always see there. The man was bald, monk bald but he wasn’t Asian or anything. He had a lot of clothes on even though it wasn’t cold and he sat opposite Earl and just eyed him, smiling. Earl said that after a few minutes the man really started to bother him so he asked him to stop. The man kept smiling and asked Earl if he knew why he was on the subway. Earl kept saying how odd this guy was and that he talked to him just so he’d back off. Earl told him he was on his way to work, and asked the man if he knew what work was. I thought the next part of the story would be how this bald guy chased Earl with a knife, but he didn’t do anything. He chuckled at Earl’s taunt and just eyed him again. ‘You don’t know why you’re here’ the bald guy tells him, and Earl is really pissed now. ‘What do you want from me?’ he says, raising his voice, and the man answers as calmly as ever, ‘I want to know if you’d like to know why you’re here?’ Earl told me that out of sheer annoyance he played along and told the man he wanted to know why. Then this guy sits up straight in his seat, blinking like mad and starts mumbling to himself. Then, like out of a trance he starts telling Earl why he’s there. And I mean why. He goes on and on about what’s going on in the bus he could’ve taken and why his car’s at the shop. Earl was so amazed he started believing it. No one could make up so many lies so fast. After the bald guy was done, Earl stared at him with a shocked expression. Then the subway stopped and the man got off. ‘This is my stop’, he told him, and handed him a small note; ‘this is my address, if you need more direction or know of someone who does.’ He showed me the note and I copied down the address, thinking of you and all we’ve spoken about god’s damn ways. So the real reason I came here was to ask you this: Do you want to know why?” he asked, and he had seriousness to his voice that was frightening. Tom had known Jim for a while, and he was no liar. Even when he did lie it would be small insignificant lies. He’d be too lazy to work up such a long lie. Of course, that didn’t mean that he was right about all this, or that Earl wasn’t lying. He knew who Earl was but wasn’t very close to him. “You think Earl’s bullshitting?” “I wouldn’t have come forward with this if I had, Tommy, you know that. I know it’s far fetched but who knows? Maybe he’s for real.” Tom was skeptical, no doubt, but he knew from the moment he realized where this conversation was going that he was going to try this out. He was that desperate. He had to know something, at least try or he’d go mad. A half an hour later he was on the street, walking through the cool night air and streetlights. Jim had parted with him a couple of blocks back. Tom had invited him to come along but Jim said he was quite happy not knowing why. He was the smart one. For Tom it was an obsession already, not a simple inquiry. He felt Sandra’s ghost hovering over him, unable to rest until it has accepted its fate. But he knew it wasn’t Sandra’s ghost. At least, it didn’t really seem like a ghost, more of a nagging feeling in his chest. It was his conscience. He felt guilty. He was driving the car, after all. And no matter how many judges or juries or friends would tell him he was innocent, he still would always see in his mind his girlfriend’s empty soulless stare, dangling from a broken neck. She was his responsibility, period. Maybe she was still alive, but in shock, when he staggered over to her, that fear erupting in his stomach. He was no doctor. Instead of calling an ambulance he just fell down and cried like a kid. What kind of man was he if he couldn’t protect the woman he loved? It all boiled down to that question. It would remove his guilt and he could sleep again if he just knew there was a reason for it. That she was meant to die at that time. It wasn’t fair that God didn’t share his reasons. Humans are intelligent creatures, we would understand if he just told us. He never believed in God as much as he did then. You only believe in God when you need him. When you need someone to ask for help and there’s no one earthly around. It’s a prayer for nature, for the cosmos, to change some written scientific law just for a second so things will turn out alright. People can live their life by science but in a real moment of stress they’ll turn to God, in whichever form they choose him to be. Tom asked to turn back time and bring his honey back. He asked but didn’t expect a positive answer, or any answer at all. He just found himself mumbling as he walked block after block of dirty sidewalks and old buildings. He could settle for just knowing why. He stared at the address again and looked around. The building was right in front of him. The monk man sure didn’t let his gift go to his head; this was a very old part of the neighborhood, and very poor. He wondered why this guy would live so inconspicuously and yet hand out a calling card randomly on the subway. Then again, he might have known something Tom didn’t. He marched slowly towards the house, with a tingling anxiety slowly developing in his body. He suddenly realized his hands were shaking, and stuffed them into his pants pockets. The card Jim had given him said the man lived on the seventh floor. That was the highest floor of this building and by the looks of it there was no elevator. Tom didn’t mind, he barely gave it a second thought. He’d run a hundred miles to get to this guy. It was odd that he didn’t have to. These sorts of things aren’t usually so easy to come by, real or fake. He didn’t know what to make of it, like so many things in life. He just accepted it like he knew he would and found himself on the seventh floor, facing the only door. He approached it slowly to knock but when he tapped it gently it slid open. It wasn’t closed. He slid his head through the doorway, very cautious and nervous. It wasn’t a normal thing to have a door unlocked, not to mention opened, in this type of neighborhood. He half expected to see the man’s blood ridden corpse sprawled on the floor, with the killer sitting on an armchair, resting his feet on him. But he soon saw this was impossible; there was no armchair in the apartment. There was no furniture at all. The wooden floor was spotless and shiny and looked like it has never been stepped upon. The large living room window was open and in poured a strong white light. It decorated the floor with shapes and shadows, and was the only light in the room. “Uh, Hello?” Tom said, still only peaking from the doorway. “Come in”, said a voice from within. He even sounded smiling. Tom paced inside and had a better look at the place. There was indeed no furniture whatsoever, and the living room seemed to be the only room, barring a bathroom adjacent to it. “Nice apartment”, Tom murmured aloud, still looking for the monk man, who chuckled at Tom’s remark. “It’s not an apartment, really, as I’m sure you’ve noticed”, he said cheerfully, “more like a resting spot until I move on.” “So you don’t live here?” “I don’t live anywhere. I am where I’m needed.” Tom’s lungs felt heavy with excitement. He sure sounded like the real deal. And no normal person would live in such a place. “Where are you?” Tom asked, looking around. “Right beside you”, he said, and got up from a shadowy corner, where he was sitting. Tom was startled for a second but was immediately calmed. The man not only looked harmless, he looked peaceful. Tom felt he could look at his face for ages and forget his worries. But, of course, he couldn’t do that. “I’ve been waiting for you”, the monk man said, and sat down again, his back facing the window, the moonlight reflecting off his bare scalp. His face was now laden with shadow, but Tom could tell he was still smiling. He sat down before him cross legged and rested his hands on his thighs. “How can I help you?” Tom was silent for a second; still examining the man’s face, and then he spoke. He told the story of his beloved’s death, and asked for one good reason for it. The monk man looked at him and then nodded solemnly. “You’re here for good reasons, and I respect that. Most people just want to know their fortune. I will gladly help you”, he said and closed his eyes. Tom watched him as he blinked and winked and mumbled incoherently. It frightened him a bit, but not enough to get up and run. He was certain that he was about to learn the truth. After a few minutes the monk man snapped out of his trance. He looked at Tom, breathing heavily, sympathy in his eyes. “You were not married to this woman, you said. She was your girlfriend”, he said. “Yeah”, Tom confirmed. “And you did not yet have sexual relations?” Tom found it a bit personal but answered just the same, it was obviously important. “Well, no, we hadn’t. The night of the accident, we were coming home from a play… that night we planned to make love for the first time.” The man’s eyes widened in apprehension and he nodded once more. “How well did you know Sandra?” he asked bluntly. “What do you mean? We’d been dating for months!” “Did you know everything about her past?” “I-I suppose not.” The man nodded again and softly bit his lower lip, looking in deep thought. “Well, she had a boyfriend before you, were you aware of that?” Tom knew she had plenty boyfriends before him, he couldn’t really name any one of them. “She had many boyfriends before me”, he said. “Well, I assume you didn’t know she had HIV. She didn’t, either.” Shock clasped tom’s heart as the man spoke the words, and it was slightly difficult for him to breathe. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this”, the man said and put his hand on Tom’s. “What God did was a good thing. He let you have all the time you could have together, but had to end it when you were about to make love or you’d be put in danger. And he had to make it final. He did it to keep you safe, Tom.” Tom heard the words but it took them a while to sink in. That did explain it. Why she died, the one in the seatbelt and he was spared. She would’ve given him a lethal disease, she had to go or he’d have been infected by it. He was important to God. “What, do I become president or something? Why’s it important for me to live?” Tom asked passionately. “I can’t tell you that, it’s not what I looked for. But you must live, it is God’s wish.” Tom gazed at the floor and got up with a jump. It didn’t matter why God wanted him alive, the point was he knew! He knew information he wasn’t supposed to! He was invincible! He could do anything he wanted and survive, because that was God’s wish! Now he understood why he wasn’t meant to know, but thinking about that was irrelevant. Guilt and thoughts of Sandra washed away like a repented sin as he turned to walk outside. He wasn’t guilty of her death, after all, and she’d want him to be happy. And boy was he. “Thank you! Thank you!” he yelled to the monk man as he stumbled and ran out the door. The monk man just stared at the doorway and smiled. Tom jumped down the steps and ran down manically. He burst through the building door and ran through the street. He was superman! He could do anything! He had God’s protection, and he knew it! He laughed hysterically and waved his arms, as if flying. “I’m invincible! I can’t die!” he yelled at the people passing him by, laughing out loud. He ran into the road, uncaring and didn’t see the pickup truck driving towards him. In the second he lived after that he felt a searing, stinging pain at his ribs and pelvis and felt his stomach burst out of his body. Then he felt no more. A shiny bald head observed the commotion not too far from the road accident, some seven stories high. Someone had called the police, who were examining the scene and collecting evidence from the crowd who gathered quickly around them. The head sighed and turned around. That man needed a reason and he gave it to him. It wasn’t his fault he became hysterical. It seemed like a good enough reason, and he couldn’t believe he was right about them not having sex. That was a long shot, but it was worth it. It was the best reason he ever came up with. It was all fitting together nicely, beating God in his own game. The truth was he didn’t know God’s ways, but after people come to him for guidance, God knew HIS ways. He decided what these people thought because they believed in him, and what they believe makes it true. And so God has to support it. It was the first time he’d gotten someone killed, but his reputation would spread thanks to it and more people would come. He might end up being responsible for all the lives in the city! He might become an equal to God! But he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, there was still time, and he might have to move again before those infidels from the asylum catch up with him. They didn’t and will never understand true power and how to achieve it. He was unique, one of a kind. Not a soul on this planet will ever know why that man below is dead. No one except him. Him and God. How did you like this text? You have to be logged on to be able to rate and comment. Logon or Register , it won't take up more than 10 seconds of your time. Rating   Current rating is: 4,2 4 readers have rated this text Author's description What if you could know what God had planned for you? Comments Ghost Writer, 28 April 2006: I’m an atheist, but yes, that would be nice. Alastair Ingason, 14 November 2004: I was very impressed, the story drew me in and had me believing in the same way as the main character. The twist is clever and your writing style was descirptive and fresh. Very nice read. Anonymous, 29 October 2004: I didn’t think your work could more sound so solid as the previous stories but here you really have got "it". Very good job! Five stars. Adam Watson, 28 October 2004: This piece has very good flow. It is very polished. Good work. Not really my type of writing, has a very "Atlas Shrugged" feel to it, but doubtless there are many out there who would enjoy this. I’ve read "Ender’s Game" so I understand where your influence comes from. Good luck on the road to getting your work published. I would love to hear commentary from you on my work, "In the Beginning" by Adam Watson. |
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