A Man and Death

by Katie Heffring

I am alone. The lake is still and clear as glass. Surrounded by a painted picture. No tree trembles. No animal scurries. All threatens. This peaceful tranquility has found me wanting. With large heavy steps, I walk to the end of the dock and look down at the water. Quiet…Enticing…Tempting…I must disturb this serenity. This calmness under my skin. AHH! I can’t stand it! So I jump in. But that is not enough. Only a few ripples stir the water’s surface. I need to make waves. I stand waist deep and raise my hands high. Smack! I hear the frantic flapping of wings. This only encourages me. Ha! I begin to thrash, hit, scream, swirl, violently ripping the water as though it were a solid something. Water splashes and sprays everywhere. My vision blurs. The world is no longer clear. Exhausted…I fall back, floating in a rigid state. The Vitruvian Man. Suddenly, the air is cold. Slowly, a shadow creeps over me and then a voice resonates:

“As soon as you’re born you begin to die. Death. Die. Dead.”

“Dead. Die. Death,” I reply unafraid. My loud voice echoes.

The shadow again: “Dying every hour, every minute, every second. Time progresses towards the day…Tick. Death. Tock…Your hair gets old. Your face gets old. Your hands get old. Your bones get old. Your mind gets old. Your blood grows cold…Sitting and waiting for death…Like waiting for the storm to come or your lucky day.”

“Yes…I…” Numbing pain rushes through my blood.  I wildly kick about until I find the ground again. When I do, my body trembles uncontrollably.  My fists grip my hair. Anguish. Hate. Fear. Emptiness. I scream and pull with all my might, “WHY?!”

Silence.  Then the ominous voice again:

“Look down at your palms…There, do you feel it?”

“What?” I try focusing but my tears are in the way.

“Look harder! There!  Feel it.”

I rub my eyes and try again.  Now, I see.  There are more lines and calluses then I remember.

“Yes. Time cuts deeper and deeper into flesh. Like a knife cuts through raw meat…Most watch the marks fearing their growth…But some press on them. Harder…deeper…feeling closer to death yet really alive!”

Truth.  A numbing pain hits me again and I have lost my footing.

The voice:  “Ahhh, but where’s the purpose in living and dying? You, alone, won’t make a difference…People don’t learn from their mistakes…History repeats and repeats and repeats…Consume, produce, waste, decay…Everything decays…

Death makes a difference not life. One form into another. Only death causes change…Tick. Death. Tock…”

The water slowly begins to suck me under.

The shadow’s muffled voice:  “You’re on my side now…”

My body is paralyzed. My breath has escaped me.

The voice sounds loud again: “Invite death and it lingers…When the living continue to wait for death…”

“NO!”

And then a warm hand pulls me out.  A warm body carries me home. A warm welcome awaits me. Warmth consumes me. And I am alive again. I am weightless.