Prologue
For the third time in my life I was in love with a girl named Shelley, and for the second time, I was at her funeral. The first had died in an accident, and this one died over an agonizingly longer period. Cancer, or so they first thought at the time. I was sitting in my car outside the funeral home, trying to find the courage to face everyone inside. I had lost more than Shelley the last time, and so I wasn’t sure I had anyone left to lose. But I was afraid to find out. And, as the universe usually has proven, my fears were justified. Because later that day, I was going to lose myself.
A man in a black suit and maroon tie was walking towards my car. I didn’t recognize him. But he looked oddly familiar. He stopped in front, and stared at me. After an uncomfortable pause, he came and knocked politely on the driver’s side window with the back of his hand. I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t ready to go. I wasn’t ready to face them. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, and sat up as straight as I could. So he walked around and opened the passenger door, and sat down.
“You have to go inside sometime.”
“No I don’t. I don’t have to do anything if I don’t want to. I should just go home.”
He smiled. “No, you do have to go inside. You know you do.”
I looked at him. “The only things certain in life are death and taxes, they say, and if you really don’t want to, you don’t have to pay taxes.”
“Now, don’t say that, son. This is a bad situation you’re in, but you can make it better. I have faith in you.”
“Faith is stupid.” I snarled, and looked down the street.
He looked over at me. “You know, sometimes it is. But sometimes it’s just a word that shows you’ve put your trust in someone. And right now, I trust you to do the right thing. You’ll see one of these days. It’s alright to trust people sometimes. You just have to be careful.” He opened the door, and got out.
And before he walked back inside, he said one last thing. “By the way. You don’t really have to pay taxes. But if you’re really good, I mean if you really know what’s going on, sometimes you don’t need to die either.”
I was on an express train headed for Michigan. I got on, and everyone was staring at me. Almost every seat was taken. I saw an empty spot in the back. I hurried to get to it, as a man stood up and almost caused me to knock him over. “Excuse me, son.” He said, pushing past me to the front of the car. Meanwhile, someone in the back took the seat I was after. Then I saw an entirely empty seat in the middle, and plopped down in the window seat. I was staring outside in a fog of disbelief; gripping my cell phone tightly with one hand, hiding the rest of the train car with the other.
We were almost ready to leave, when another guy boarded. He was carrying a small duffel bag, and a book. I knew he was going to sit by me. I could feel it. There weren’t many seats left. He passed some. He passed another. Moving faster towards me. I didn’t want to sit by anyone, least of all some creep who was going to talk my head off. I stared out the window even harder than before.
“E..excuse me. Is anyone sitting here.”
I barely heard him. I shook my head without looking over. I knew it was going to be a horrible ride. I was in no mood to be stuck with some guy; some guy I didn’t know. Some guy I didn’t want to know. He was going to bug me. Ask me questions. Ask where I was headed. Talk my ear off. I had no idea where I was headed. Yet I knew exactly where I was going. I didn’t feel like getting the third degree from some stranger. I knew I was in for it from all the people I knew already.
He put his bag up above in the carryon storage, and sat down, as far away from me as possible. He opened his book, and started to read. He didn’t say anything else the entire trip. Neither did I.
Sometimes he closed the book, and stared at the seat in front of him. Sometimes he flipped through the pages. Sometimes he flipped back and forth between one or two pages, reading them, rereading them as if analyzing every inch for anything he might have missed the first time around. He was either thorough, or terrible. I sat and stared out the window. I was completely lost. I felt like I’d lost myself forever. I was just going through the motions.
There were a bunch of noisy kids a few rows up, and they were incredibly annoying. I wanted to drop kick a couple of them into the path of the engine. But I just kept staring out the window; death grip on my phone, barely clinging to reality. Sometimes I wonder what happened to him. He didn’t have a window to stare out of. Maybe he was in even a worse situation than I was. I hope not.
The ride wasn’t just uncomfortable. It was one of the worst experiences of my life. We were cramped. Desperate, lonely, antisocial and unhappy. We were silent. Two sides of the same chair section a million miles apart.
I was standing a block away from the funeral home. I had walked from the train station, and I couldn’t bear to go any further. The more I walked, the slower I went. Time stood still, and the air felt like an accusatory chorus of spirits. I knew what was in store for me. I had no right to go; it was my fault she was dead. I could feel it in my bones. I wanted to run away, bury myself on the opposite side of the world. But I could never let her go. I never have.
I took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked inside. Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and stared at me. It seemed like eons. Then, they dispersed. Every one of her relatives I recognized walked away. Her parents. Her brothers. Her aunts, uncles, cousins. Everyone left had no idea who I was. They would soon enough, I was sure. But for now, it was only me, and her.
I walked up, looked her over, and took a seat in the back. I had nothing to say. It was just a body anyway, it wasn’t really her. She was long gone. Her eyes were closed, my thoughts were. She hated that dress. A blue dress? Disgusting. Intolerable. It was too hot in there. My shirt was coming untucked. I didn’t know where she was, and in particular I assumed she was nowhere. There was nothing left to do but go home. None of her relatives ever said a word to me. Nor have they in the years that have passed.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the room during the service. Except mine. I’ll never forget. They didn’t look at me, but I could tell they wanted to. Passing before my eyes. She was gone forever. God himself couldn’t bring her back. Why was I acting like that? She was the love of my life. How could I be so cold? It was real, all too real. I felt them all. I felt every glance, every stare. Every emotion. I always did. Ceaseless empathy is my real curse.
Outside I was a stone, an endless drain, a blank enigma in a sad, unforgiving, despicable universe. My emotionlessness was staggering, legendary. I was unflappable, impossible to understand. There were no second chances, no apologies, no compromises. Because inside... Inside was turmoil. Madness. Anger. And chaos.
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