After Death (19 page)

He pushed through the swinging doors and felt immediately more comfortable. Everything was the same as he’d seen it every day for the past few years. Even in the half-light, the long grilling stove sat as it always had against the entire length of the room. The hanging pots and pans and utensils hung where they should and were calm and motionless. The serving counter was clean and had the faint sheen of often-wiped stainless steel and the area below awaited the different tins and trays of steaming food for serving the patrons as it always had. There was nothing to fear here. There was nothing amiss. Everything was exactly as it should be despite Frank’s concerns.

Frank had asked him to check the rest of the wing but now that he was here, he saw no reason to leave. Why should he? All was calm and quiet and if something were to happen (although he really had no idea what this might be and Frank had been evasive when he’d asked him) he would certainly hear it from here. With the intense quiet of the place, the slightest sound would have the effect of an explosion.

He looked around the dimly lit kitchen and decided that, since he was here, he may as well do something with his time. He could start on the prep work that preceded every meal — He’d be back first thing in the morning anyway and if he began now, there’d be less to do before the breakfast crowd was served. As long as he was quiet, no one would be the wiser. Not the patients, not the staff, not Frank. He pulled a huge can of Crisco out of the cupboard and slid a long serving tray out of a drawer. He pulled some latex gloves from the nearby dispenser, slipped them on and began greasing the tray.

***

Frank tried to remain alert but it was getting more difficult — there was no stimuli and he was tired — very tired. Time seemed to stop in this dark and quiet hospital.

He stared monotonously towards the chair, the ring, the enveloping darkness. His eyelids felt heavily weighted and growing more so… There was nothing happening…
Why was he here? How stupid could he be when he could have instead been at home in his warm bed, tucked up against the curve of Jackie’s back, feeling her rhythmic breathing and the heat from where their flesh touched…
He started to fade… He felt his eyes drooping shut and the warm embrace of sleep closing in around him… Guilt and reflex made him glance one last time at the distant chair before he allowed himself to sink… sliding down and away into —
What was that?!?

He was sure he’d heard it — a lift, set, step — lift, set, step.
He knew that sound; the sound of Eli moving his walker and coming towards him.

He sat bolt upright, sleepiness instantly gone and — a tingle racing down his spine.

He leaned slightly forward and squinted at the distant chair. He rubbed his eyes…
There was something there — something blurry over — no, in, the chair..!
It was so dark, it was impossible to be sure — Maybe he was dreaming or his vision was just distorted with half-sleep or…

He kept his gaze locked — trying desperately to either confirm or reject what he thought he saw… He strained for clarification — tried to define the edges of the shape…

It felt like he’d been straining for hours — but he had no real idea of the passage of time. He stole a glance at his watch; 1:52 AM — and returned his gaze instantly to the chair. The “form” was still there… If it was there at all..?

He slowly realized that there was no way he could be sure of anything from here — he would have to get closer. The thought made his mouth go dry and his tongue feel large in his mouth.
He didn’t want to! — didn’t want to! —
He put the brakes on this line of thought and the childish rhythms — It immediately reminded him of Billy from Burt’s story — He didn’t want to think of that now — anything but that, here and now…

His muscles were taut — they didn’t want to go anywhere. He forced himself to rise out of the chair and take a slow, shaky step. He was afraid to move quickly — and felt slowed down as though moving through water. His being was rejecting his efforts, his “self” was mutinying. His tired eyes remained glued to the chair —

There was something! — Something hazy like a smudge in the air — A barely discernible cloud of grey murk like a streak across a camera lens…

He stared at it, fascinated. He forced another step, trying to find its edges in the dim light.

He was able to make out two faint points of light in the center of the rough upper oval of the shape that could only be seen as the “head” —

Eyes!

Frank’s mouth fell open —
It can’t be — It’s… impossible..!

A part of the shape extended — like an “arm”. It was reaching towards the glimmering ring on the floor!

Frank felt pressure on his shoulder and shouted involuntarily, fear overtaking him. The sound was harsh and blaring.

“Arrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

He spun around to find Fernando staring at him.

“Hey, Frank, it’s 3:45, I been waitin’.”

Frank caught his breath, swiveled back quickly towards the chair.

The haze, the shape with the “eyes” and the “arm” was gone.

Fernando was annoyed and tired.

“C’mon, man. Let’s go.”

Frank checked his watch — he couldn’t believe it — It seemed as though time had jumped from 1:52 AM to 3:45 AM in a matter of minutes… He walked towards the distant chair, troubled.

More light was filtering in and Fernando noticed Frank’s hand, the sleeve pulled down and wrapped around it, traces of blood showing through the material.

“Hey, what happened to your hand?” he asked. “And what’s with the chairs?”

Frank reached the far chair and stared at it carefully for a long moment. There was nothing unusual here — it was just a harmless ordinary fold-out chair. He bent down and picked up the ring, careful to keep his body between it and Fernando.
He hoped Fernando hadn’t seen it — it would be a bit difficult to explain.
He folded up the chair and carried it back towards Fernando with the slight pulsing of a dull headache starting to grow. His senses felt cloudy — again he couldn’t shake that heavy feeling of foreboding and gloom…

“Hey, I wish you’d answer my questions once in a while.” Fernando said, now even more annoyed.

Frank couldn’t say why, but half-way to Fernando, he suddenly got the idea to look at the ring. He turned his body to the side and again shielded his action as he shone the flashlight on the small circle of gold between his fingers.

It looked as it always did — What was making him have these peculiar ideas lately?

He turned the ring to the side, glanced at the inscription and his blood froze.

Paula L. Danner’s name and class inscription was gone, replaced as if it had never been. Instead, in the same flowing cursive etched into the metal, the inscription now read:

JOIN ME IN HELL FRANKLIN

Frank kept his face impassive and tried not to lift his hands from the steering wheel for fear Fernando would see how badly they were shaking.

Frank had said almost nothing since they got in the car — he knew Fernando was pissed but had no idea how to address it.
I’m just not that good a liar
, he thought,
better to keep my mouth shut as much as possible.

Fernando alternated between watching the road as light started to show over the horizon and turning his stare on Frank.

“You’re not actin’ yourself.” He finally said with an air of exasperation. “You’re makin’ me regret goin’ along with this — You didn’t actually expect to catch a ghost or somethin’ back there, did you? C’mon — talk to me.”

Frank didn’t know what to say.
Of course he hadn’t — but he’d seen… something…! The ring in his pocket was proof!
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and clamped his jaws together. It seemed like ages before they pulled up in front of Fernando’s decrepit apartment complex.

Fernando glared at him one last time.

“Well?” he asked.

Frank kept his gaze elsewhere.

“We can talk about it later.” He replied.

Fernando thumped the door open and then leaned his head back in, fuming.

“This is bullshit, Frank. I stay up all fucking night and you don’t even tell me what’s on your mind..!”

Fernando held his glare and waited expectantly. Frank had to tell him something but he was having trouble focusing on the present — He kept drifting back to what had just happened at the hospital… That strange floating shape… Those angry dots of light in the center of its “head”…

“I’m just tired.” He said finally, voice as distant as his thoughts. He finally looked at Fernando but didn’t really see him. “Try and cut me some slack, alright..?”

Fernando frowned, threw his arms up helplessly frustrated.

“Whatever, man.”

Frank put on a falsely reassuring look. He felt exactly the opposite.

“I’ll call ya and fill in the blanks, okay? After I get some rest.”

He was aware how hollow his voice sounded but hoped Fernando didn’t notice. Fernando slammed the car door, still lingering outside the window as though waiting for a reversal.

Frank didn’t wait for an answer — he drove away fast — head fixed forward.

***

Frank’s return to the hospital was inevitable — his thoughts kept going around and around — There was no way he could the leave the situation the way it was.

He had looked at the ring one last time to confirm the existence of the altered inscription before again parking two blocks away and approaching the hospital from the alley to avoid being seen. This time he made his way back to the open window that had spooked him when he’d been inside and that had caused him to cut his hand. He figured it would still be open and that no staff had arrived yet and he was right.

Getting in wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped but he found an empty trashcan and turned it upside-down so that he could stand on top of it. The window was still high up but he could just get his hands up and over the sill. With a lot of huffing and puffing (a reminder that he should exercise more) he finally managed to pull himself up and wedge a leg in the window for support. His navigation from there was something less than graceful and when he finally bent his other leg through the window, he slipped and narrowly avoided landing on broken glass from the picture as he slithered down the wall into the hallway below.

That would’ve been a disaster!
He cursed to himself as he surveyed the shards scattered across the hall, many clearly displaying swatches of now dried blood. His hand hurt and he noticed that his entry had reopened the wound and a few fresh droplets now splattered the floor — fortunately not enough to send him into another phobic attack.

He pulled his sleeve down further and again bundled the wound. He surveyed the hallway mess of glass and blood.
I’ll need to clean this up before I leave
, he thought.
Good thing I came back.

He checked his watch — it was 4:37 AM, the morning shift, as far as he knew, didn’t come in until 6AM at the earliest — Maybe he’d have time…

He repeated the exact procedure he’d done earlier with the chairs, treating it like a ritual that must be done precisely.
How did he know what had caused what happened to happen? — if it was a conjuring of sorts, he needed to make sure he did it correctly.

The chairs were placed the exact same distance apart as before, one facing the other. In front of the distant chair, he again placed the ring on the floor and moved back to the chair outside Rachel’s room, trying to remember all the details and recreate them exactly—the number of steps, his posture, even the way that he’d slumped heavily into the chair when he’d sat down.

It had all been done to the best of his recollection. If this resurrection were to fail, let it not be from any misstep he might have made.

He settled in to watch the distant chair and the ring before it. The only real difference this time was exactly that — the time. The time and therefore the amount of light. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin the experiment.

Experiment
, he thought.
That’s exactly how I need to view this; as an experiment. I must not let fear taint the outcome. I need to be objective and see this as if from an outsider’s point of view. If this is what I think it is, it is a new frontier — A discovery that has eluded mankind forever… Perhaps I have unwittingly discovered the key..!

The concept was exciting and a wave of adrenalin raced through him. For a time he felt a new alertness as he stared at the chair and the ring and thought of the possibilities of his potential discovery… But eventually the tugging of his exhaustion returned and the objects in the distance grew stagnant and finally boring…

Chair and ring, ring and chair, nothing new, no movement, everything so monotonously constant…

He didn’t remember getting up, he didn’t think he had the requisite energy — but there he suddenly was, walking down the hospital hallway…
Was he dreaming?
Was he still sitting in the chair before Rachel’s door?
He felt relaxed — too relaxed. He couldn’t feel his feet touching the floor as he moved but instead seemed to float in whatever direction he chose to go. He tried to think of some way he could confirm what state he was in. He lifted his wrist to his face and looked at his watch — it was as it had always been — every detail of the band and the face seemed perfectly correct. He peered closely at the hands of the watch — they were fine, one moving at the correct speed to measure passing seconds, another showing minutes, the other in the frozen hour position. The time was 4:54 AM — That seemed absolutely right as well.