This Waking Life, Pt. III

“Wait, what?”

            A horrible realization began to sink into Michael’s bones. I’m dead, I’m dead, I died and now I’m trapped here. Oh God, help me. Please let me wake up.

            “I’m here Michael. Be calm, my son.”

            Mikey looked up and met those eyes, full of benevolence and warmth. No, it can’t be.

            “It can, and is. Believe it very well.”

            “I must be dreaming.”

            “And yet, even now, you know deep down it isn’t true. Don’t you?”

            The man (He is not a man) was right. Mikey wasn’t dreaming, he was perfectly awake. If not exactly here. He wasn’t sure where or if he was at the moment. Am I dead? He tried to ponder the implications of this and his head spun.

            “Try to relax, don’t let the intricacies and metaphysical questions of your situation cloud your judgment.”

            “How can you say that? What the fuck is going on here?”

            He sighed. “I suppose it is time I tried to answer some of your questions. Ask, and I shall attempt to accommodate.”

            “Who are you?”

            “I have many and more names. You may call me whatever you like, whatever is most convenient.”

            The word hanged precariously on his lips, trembled slightly before falling out. “God.”

            “Yes,” he answered simply.

            “Why am I here?” Michael no longer felt comfortable. There was no pain, but he was filled with dread and uncertainty. “What is this place?”

            “Think of it as a way-station. This place resides between two realms, the one you inhabit, and mine own. You are here because we must palaver.”

            We what? Tears welled up in his eyes. He tried to force them down. He chose his next words very carefully. “I…I’m sorry.”

            “There is no need.”

            “I never believed…”

            “Hush, now. All is well. And you are forgiven.”

            “Just like that?” How does that work?

            “Belief and conviction are complicated things, Michael. Your faith was weak, admittedly, but you never outright denied me.”

            “I was always told about sin…something unforgiveable—“

            “Please, son, there is no need to paraphrase a book.” He grinned slyly at this, the first time Michael had seen him do so. “It’s more a set of guidelines, anyway. And it was so long ago…” He waved a hand. “Like I said, the more questions you ask, the more confusing this will get. Try to keep it simple. I am here, and so are you. That is all that matters now.”

            Michael relaxed a little. He began to feel somewhat at ease. But I have so many more questions…Elizabeth.

            “She is fine, like I said.”

            “What about me? Am I fine?”

            Michael could sense hesitation in His voice. “Not strictly speaking. But that’s why you are here.”

            “Why?” I’m still so confused.

            “I want to give you a second chance.”

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Elizabeth hovered over Michael’s body. Exactly ninety-six seconds had passed since the driver had struck him, and he hadn’t moved a single time. The driver of the car stood jabbering into his cell phone, worriedly relaying information to 911.

            “Is he breathing?” The man turned to ask, eyes wide, frantic.

            Elizabeth looked up, tears streaming down her face, and shook her head.

            “No, he isn’t breathing…”

            Silently, Elizabeth began to pray.

“So, are you a man?” Michael asked. He had no idea how much time had passed since he had woken up, it could have been a few moments, it could have been an hour. “You look like a man.”

            “Neither. This is the form I choose to appear in, as it seems to be the easiest to accept. It is merely an illusion.”

            “Are you really everywhere, like all at once?” He began to feel excited. He couldn’t believe he was actually speaking to a divine being… “Are there more of you? Or are you like, the only one?”

            “I employ many in my service, but I am, as you say, the only one.” He answered all of Mikey’s questions patiently and quietly. Suddenly he looked away, eyes widening slightly, then narrowing, as if he had heard something from far off, but they were all alone.

            “What is it?” Michael asked.

            He didn’t answer for a moment. “We should really hurry this along, Michael,” he finally said. He sounded almost sad. “We don’t have all the time in the world.”

            Michael nodded, thinking. “Wait, how long have I been dead? There’s still so much I want to ask.”

            “Time passes differently here, but it still moves. I wish I could answer all of your questions, but please…”

            “What is the meaning of life?”

            His lips twitched. “Life is what you make it.” He seemed weary, and Michael got the impression he had answered this question thousands of times before.

            “But why are we here? What is our purpose?”

            “I said to keep the metaphysical questions to a minimum, child.”

            Michael frowned. That doesn’t seem fair. “Okay, so why am I here right now? You said something about a second chance.”

            “You’re here because your life was cut down in its prime. If it pleases you to know, the man who killed you was…texting and driving.” He normally was calm and reserved, but now he sounded bitter. “Not one of mankind’s better ideas.”

            “And Elizabeth? Where is she?”

            “Right now? Mourning.”

            Michael felt like he might cry again. He swallowed hard. “How do I get back?”

            He held up a hand. “Slow down. You’ve asked me many questions, now it’s my turn. Tell me, Michael,” He said, voice solemn, “why do you see fit to take the life, the one I so graciously gave you, and throw it away?”

            At this, Michael was shocked. He hadn’t expected the subject to come up. For a minute he said nothing, pondering what he could possibly say to Him, what excuse he could come up with. Finally, he settled on blunt honesty. “Because I was sad. I am so sad. But you already know that, don’t you?”

            He nodded. “Yes, I know. But millions of people all over the world are sad, and they do not contemplate ending their lives. That, Michael, is unforgiveable.”

            This isn’t fair. “How about you tell me, huh? Why am I so sad? Aren’t you supposed to be all-knowing?”

            He ignored Michael’s insolence. “You suffer from a severe chemical imbalance.”

            Michael stared. “That’s it?  That’s all you have to say? What about all the suffering out there? Why do you allow it?”

            “Life is suffering, Michael. You find a way through it.”

            “Yeah? What about the people who don’t? I’m hardly the first person to contemplate suicide.”

            Suddenly His voice turned grave. “They no longer enjoy my blessing.”

            Michael leaned back. He suddenly felt very tired. “Well maybe it’s not my fault. You think I want to be depressed? Suicidal? No. I didn’t ask for this.”

            “Didn’t you though?” He challenged. “Tell me true, Michael Acuesta, would it really hurt your feelings that badly if I didn’t let you go back? Isn’t this what you wanted? There was no pain, was there? You just woke up here. And you can continue on. You can leave all that pain and suffering behind, just like you wanted. You don’t have to go back.”

            Michael’s eyes widened. No. “No. This isn’t fair. Don’t say that to me.”

            “Like I said, I want to give you a second chance. But ask yourself, do you want a second chance?”

            “Why does it have to be that way though? Why do people have to suffer? I thought you were a merciful God. Now it seems like you’re torturing me. And what made you decide to turn up now, of all times? What about all the other times I needed you? Where were you when I was bleeding in the bathtub, sobbing my eyes out?” Michael’s voice began to rise to a fury. His eyes watered up. “Where were you when I laid in bed, praying never to wake up again? Where the fuck have you been, huh?”

            “You think I haven’t helped!” He shouted. The room visibly darkened.

            Michael recoiled.

            “How dare you? You think you have been alone all this time? What about her?” And he pointed at the wall, where a window suddenly appeared.

            Michael got up and crossed the room. Through it, he could see himself lying on the pavement, sun shining brightly…and Elizabeth hunched over him, sobbing into her hands. She looked helpless. “Elizabeth,” he breathed out.

            “Yes,” the man with the gray eyes said. “Elizabeth. One of those in my employ. Has she not been with you this entire way?”

            Now the tears came unbidden, welling up to the surface and spilling over. “What are you saying?”

            “She’s an angel, Michael. And I sent her to help you.”

            Michael looked on, longing to shout out to her, but somehow he knew she wouldn’t be able to hear him. A moment passed, and he realized what he had to do. “I want to go back,” he said firmly.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes. I love her. I’ve never loved anything so fiercely as her.” He met his maker, and looked him in the eye. “Thank you. I never knew.”

            The room brightened again. The man smiled, and shook his head. “No thanks necessary, Michael. Just remember. Life is a precious gift. Don’t throw it away. And don’t forget there’s always someone looking out for you.” And with that, he placed a hand on Michael’s forehead. “Close your eyes.”

There was no pain.

He dreamed he was falling through a dark, endless void, but the void held no fear for him. There was a light beneath him, and it called out to him. He swam toward it.

When he awoke, he could feel a faint warm tingling sensation crawling across his skin. The sun beat down from above, blinding him. Michael raised a hand to shield his eyes and slowly sat up.

And then there was pain. Unimaginable pain. He laid back down.

He became aware of Elizabeth, and then sights and sounds made themselves known to him. He could hear sirens wailing in the distance, creeping closer. Elizabeth was crying and saying his name. He turned his head and looked into her eyes. Her head moved in front of the sun.

“Michael? Michael! Are you okay?”

He tried to move and couldn’t. Everything hurt. He realized he was lying in a pool of blood. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, and coughed. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and his chest erupted in a fresh wave of pain when he inhaled.

“Oh my God, please let him be okay.”

Suddenly the sirens were upon them, and Elizabeth looked away for a second. “Don’t worry Michael, the ambulance is here. You’re going to be okay. Stay with me.”

Michael forced himself to smile, and took a slow, shaky breath. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. The words took an immense amount of effort, but he had to let her know. “I promise.”