Waking the Dead

By Al Horn

"What a kick in the head," Tom muttered to himself. "What if I don't want to wait another year?" He sighed heavily and watched as his breath turned to steam and drifted across the porch. He lifted a glass to his lips just to discover it was empty. He considered refilling it with more whiskey. "Better not." That was when he noticed that he wasn't wearing his glasses. It was almost dark and he knew he would need them tonight. Especially tonight.

In another twenty minutes the streets would be full of kids dressed for Halloween. He was determined to stay sober and put on a good show for them and their parents. He would ignore the pitiful looks in their eyes and graciously accept any belated condolences. He knew the expensive candy he intended to hand out might generate a few puzzled looks. Let them wonder. They didn't share his burden.

Three blocks away a ten year-old girl finished filling the second of two balloons with water. The sound of fingers brushing against the bathroom door almost caused her to drop it.

"Amelia? Are you ready?"

"Yes, mom. I'll be out in a minute." She slipped them into the bottom of her bag, looked into the low wide mirror on the opposite wall, and adjusted the tiara on her head. "Yep, we're gonna have fun tonight."

At lunch, earlier in the day, "Death has become predictable," Tom had told Paul Burk, a co-worker.

"Why do you say that, Tom?"

"My wife told me last Christmas. She was more right than she knew. Ann saw a pattern that none of us had picked up on. I haven't figured out how to deal with the opportunity it presents."

"What opportunity would that be?"

"The knowledge of my impending death."

The two men were gathering up their trash and were about to return to work in the produce warehouse. "Death? What are you talking about?"

"I would tell you, Paul, but I don't think you would believe me. Hell, I'm still not sure I believe."

"Hello, Mrs. Smith. Is Lani ready to go yet?"

"Hello, Amelia. She's coming down the steps right now."

A four-foot tall witch walked around her mother and onto the front porch. The two girls smiled at each other then started down the steps. "Did you bring them?" whispered the witch.

Tom stepped inside the house to get the bowl of candy. As he did, his eye caught the gleam of light reflected from the set of golf clubs in the corner. He had stopped using them three months ago; the day after the doctor had given them the bad news. He had been delighted to receive them last Christmas even if they were given based on what he thought was skewed logic.

He pulled the driver out, took a stance in the middle of the living room and then swung as if he had just hit a ball. In his mind, he could see the ball arc high into the air and fall just short of clearing the rim of a volcano. The memory was plucked from last summer's trip to Hawaii. He looked down at the bag and remembered the first time he'd seen it.

"My God, Ann. These are top of the line clubs. We can't afford these." He regretted the comment the instant it left his mouth. Ann had been so despondent after his brother's death. The past week she seemed to come back to life.

The smile never left her face. "You've worked hard all your life. You deserve them."

"Well, I'll be the first to admit that, but this must have taken a big chunk out of our savings. On top of that, I didn't spend near as much on you."

"That's just it. You always spend a lot more on me. It was my turn to splurge."

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

The smile drooped for a second then shot back up. "Don't you like them? You can exchange them for another brand."

She was sitting on the sofa. Try as she might, the smile couldn't hide the tension that showed in the rest of her face. He sat next to her, took her hands in his, and then looked her in the eyes. "What's wrong, dear?"

The smile slowly slid away. "Damn it. Can't you just be happy with what you've got? I am. I've learned to accept it."

"Accept what?"

"Your family curse!"

"I don't understand?"

"I'm rather surprised you hadn't figured it out. I'm surprised anybody who knows this family hasn't figured it out. How old was your father when he died?"

"I think he was in his forties."

"And your mother?"

"She died a year later. Two months after we were married."

"What was her age?"

"I'm not sure. I would have to look it up."

"Don't bother. She was forty-three years old. Same age as your dad when he died. The same age as both your brothers when they each died. If we follow that line of reasoning to its natural conclusion.."

It took a few seconds to sink in. "That's absurd. A coincidence, that's all"

"A coincidence? How about the fact they all died in October."

Again, that took a few seconds to sink in "You think I'll die in another two years?"

"If this had been happening in my family, would you feel the same way?"

"Possibly. Still..."

"Still, nothing. If you've only got two years to live, I want you to have all the things you ever wanted. If I'm wrong and you're sitting here two years from now, then just get me a warm set of mittens and I'll work all the overtime needed to get us back on track."

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