I Will Not Die

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(I want to thank all of the StumbleUpon visitors. Because of you, this story has been viewed over 15,000 times now)

Dusk was coming. The earth rolled away from the sun.

“Son,” asked the man, “what do you need?”

The toddler pulling on the waistband of the man’s jacket, while looking straight up at his father’s face, asked, “Can we go to the park?”

“Not right now, I have several things I have to do tonight, so we’ll have to do it tomorrow, or another day.”

“But why?” asked the boy, oblivious to the answer he had just received.

“Listen son,” said the man, “there are many things I need to do so that I can take care of you. If I don’t do some of these things now, then, when you’re older, you will have to work harder. Do you understand?”

“I guess,” sighed the little boy who looked over his left shoulder at his younger sister, who, with a doll held up to her face, showed the same dismay that the young boy did.

The man realized that they must have been conspiring. He smiled at them both.

“Besides,” the man continued, “it’s getting late. And do you know what that means?”

“No…” both children said playfully through growing smiles.

“It means that there is barely enough time…to be tickled!”

On cue, the children bolted off, giggling while the man chased them, captured them, tickled them and released them each in turn. The ritual, as with many other nights, sent the shrill giggles of children bouncing throughout the house.

Then the phone rang.

The man’s wife called from the kitchen, “Hon, it’s for you…it’s Dr. Benowsky.”

“I’ll take it upstairs,” replied the man.

The man stood up, and walked over to the stairwell. Step by step he ascended. With each step he would reach forward, grabbing the railing in front of him, pulling on it until his foot had arrived at its new step, after which he would reach up and grab the railing again. At the top of the stairs, he turned to his right, as if on a slowly spinning merry-go-round.

Bloop!

A drop could be heard bouncing on the bottom of the bathtub in the room to his left. The light in the hallway he was in was low, but it was brighter at the end, where his study’s door was partway open. A fuzzy cone of light spread down the hallway and across the walls. As he walked down the hallway, the cone became more narrow. He felt like he was getting smaller, that the hallway was shrinking as he advanced.

The hallway continued to stretch out before him, getting longer each time he took another step. Time was slow.

When he arrived at the end of the hall, he pushed the study door all the way open and walked around his desk and sat down. He paused for a just a second, then picked up the phone.

“Dr. Benowsky?”

He heard the click of the phone downstairs being hung up.

“Steve? You there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” the man said.

“Listen, we got the results in today…I decided to call you, even though it’s a little late.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Hey, Steve, listen…are you sitting down?”

“Uh-huh..”

“Listen, I’ve been doing this for years, and…well…quite frankly I’m not very good at this part of my job.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Steve, listen, it’s bad. The worst I’ve ever seen. It’s everywhere…it’s inoperable…”

There was a long silence.

“Steve…I’m so sorry…”

“Steve, listen, uh, I know it’s so soon to talk about these things, but I know some people…you know, they have a great hospice…they’re really good people Steve–known ‘em for years.”

“How long?” asked the man.

“Steve, it’s bad, I mean, really advanced–could be any minute, any day, today, tomorrow, a week, I really don’t know, maybe more…maybe more.”

“Steve, I’m going to let you go for know. Please, take care Steve. Call me.”

Click

The man sensed a buzzing sensation throughout his body. He placed the receiver of the phone down on its base. There was a strange static in the room, in the air. He stood up and mechanically reversed the route he took that brought him to his study. At the top of the stairs, he called down to his wife. She came to bottom of the stairs and smiled up to him.

“Hey you,” she said teasingly.

“Listen,” said the man, “I’m beat, I’m going to head to bed a little early.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, “I’ll head up soon too, right after I put these two down.”

She smiled again. “Oh she didn’t know,” he thought. He smiled back down to her.

“I love you,” he said.

Her grin widened. “I love you too!” she said.

He walked quickly to his bedroom, changed, and climbed in bed. A short while later his wife came in too, and climbed in next to him. She nudged him. He turned his head toward her and she touched his nose with her index finger.

“You know,” she whispered, “I love you…”

He smiled and leaned over, kissed her. They settled into bed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling. After a while, he looked over through the window. He could see the stars.

The earth was still rolling.

He looked back up to the ceiling. The thought of leaving at any given moment, without notice, was unbearable. He imagined his wife, waking in the morning, to find him still, unable to wake him. He imagined the terror in her cries for help while she would try to do something. Maybe she would shake his body. Maybe she would shout at him.

“Steve! Steve! Can you hear me! Oh God…”

“Steve!”

He cried. Tears ran down from his eyes, across his temples and sank into his pillow. He thought of his boy, how we would never get to be the one to teach him how to be a man. He thought of his daughter at some distant wedding, looking to the empty seat where he should be sitting. He thought…

He thought…

He took a deep breath. With his left hand, he wiped his face and sat up. He shook his wife. Alarmed, she sat up too. He got out of bed and began getting dressed. She stared at him with wonder and confusion.

“Get up,” he said.

“We’re going to the park.”

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Dereck :: Sep.06.2008 :: Fiction :: 31 Comments »

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