Bonus Story: Humility
Eric sat wearily upon the barstool, his body aching with every breath and a river of tears flowing freely down his cheeks, dripping onto his bare thighs. His fingers curled tightly around the wood and steel of his late father’s .38 special revolver. As he sat, Eric wondered whether or not he possessed the fortitude to complete what he set out to do.
In the previous weeks, Eric’s health had begun to decline rapidly. At first, he assumed that his years of heavy drinking had finally caught up with him. He was constantly feeling dizzy, having trouble maintaining his footing, and his memory had begun slipping. These symptoms were only made worse by the strife between he and his wife Madeline; who was constantly picking fights with him over, what she assumed, was his own overconsumption of alcohol. In reality, since the symptoms began, Eric had not had a single drop of alcohol. Unfortunately, regardless of his steadfast insistence, Madeline would respond by rolling her eyes and walking away, leaving him alone to fester in his thoughts and reflections. In the following days, the symptoms quickly became much worse; Eric was plagued by constant abdominal pain, seizures, and intermittent blackouts. Eric voiced his concerns to Madeline, but her reply was laden with the frustrations she had felt about always being responsible for his welfare because he was too much of a drunkard to take care of himself. As a result, Eric resigned himself to a separate bedroom in the house and spent much of his time alone. He would only see Madeline during meals or on the rare occasion when their children would come to visit. As each day wore on, Eric felt like more and more of a burden on his family and their lives. With a heavy heart, he resolved to find a way to free them from the constant suffering that he was causing. Checking his life insurance to ensure that there were no stipulations preventing his family from receiving the last positive contribution that his life could offer, Eric set about to put his plan into action. Eric combed through his closet, finding his nicest slacks and jacket. He cleaned and pressed his clothing, laying it all out neatly upon his bed. Eric then retrieved a barstool from the kitchen and placed it in the bathtub of the guest bathroom. Upon his neatly pressed clothing, Eric left a note apologizing for all the pain and suffering that he had caused to his family and friends. He urged his family to live a happier life without him, and he concluded by asking for forgiveness if his sudden exit creates too much of a mess. Stripping off his clothing and retrieving his father’s revolver from his top dresser drawer, Eric sat himself upon the stool and pulled the curtain closed. Taking one last breath, Eric thumbed back the hammer of the gun and placed the muzzle against his temple. With trembling hands, Eric tightened his index finger on the trigger of the gun and then…
***
As Eric’s vision faded in, the first thing he noticed was a fire crackling in a fireplace. Confused, Eric looked down at himself before subsequently looking around the room. Eric noticed that he was wearing his most comfortable pair of jeans and favorite T-shirt. Eric was sitting in a leather armchair that, he was sure, was the softest leather he’d ever felt. Looking around the room, Eric’s eyes drifted from the brick fireplace to the well worn, wooden mantle above. On the mantle, there were various sculptures, only some of which Eric recognized — a cross, a star of David, a crescent and star, and a pentagram were among the symbols present. The rest of these symbols were unfamiliar to Eric, but they all sat, side by side on the mantle. Though they at first appeared to be made of gold or highly polished brass, Eric noticed that each of these sculptures had a dim, yet still easily perceptible glow. On both sides of the fireplace, bookshelves stood from wall to ceiling. Glancing at the spines of these books, Eric noticed that these books bore characters from a language of which Eric had never seen before. Strangely, the titles of these books seemed to glow in a manner similar to the sculptures on the mantle.
Remembering his home and the gun, Eric raised his hand to his head and felt a clear hole in the side of his head, but was perplexed by the lack of blood. Eric was trying to make sense of everything, but his thinking was interrupted by the sound of a man clearing his throat. Looking to his right, Eric noticed an elderly man, well dressed in a brown corduroy suit and reading one of the books while sipping a drink from an ornate goblet. At first glance, the man reminded Eric of his grandfather and the countless summers he spent at his home in the mountains.
The man only looked up from his book when Eric spoke. “Excuse me sir, where am I?”
The old man chuckled slightly before speaking. “Hello Eric, my name is Sam...well, I actually have many names, but the one that seems to be the most welcomed is Sam. If you look around, you will see that you are in my home.” After a pause, the man continued, “I know what you are thinking, and yes, you are dead. You are here because it’s not clear where you belong yet. If you look behind you, you will see two doors. It is up to you which door you walk through, but know that whichever you choose the decision is permanent.”
Looking behind him, Eric noticed two metal doors, each one vastly different from the other. Though they both bore the same ornate scrollwork, one door shone with a well polished gleam while the other appeared rusted and faded due to countless years of neglect.
Eric brought his attention back to the old man. “How do I know which one to choose?”
Again the man laughed, but this laugh was much heartier than the first. “It’s on me since I didn’t explain the rules, so I’ll give you that one for free since I should’ve answered it anyways. You are allowed to ask me three questions that you may use to govern your decision. From there, the choice is yours alone. Think carefully before you ask.”
Eric slumped back in his chair, the impossibility of all of this perplexing him. He turned back to Sam and spoke with a reluctant voice. “Sir, I really appreciate your hospitality. I know I’m intruding in your home but I would like a few moments to think, if that’s not too much of a burden.”
Sam smiled in response. “You don’t have to call me sir; it’s Sam. I’m here for you Eric—to help you get where you need to go. You are not imposing at all and you may take as much time as you need. It’s not often that I get company, and I really appreciate it when the circumstance arises.”
Sam gave a wink and then returned to reading his book.
Eric sat for a long time, deeply pondering everything that Sam had told him. He hated everything about this situation. How was he supposed to make such an important decision based on only three questions.
Then, like the proverbial lightbulb turning on in his brain, Eric knew his first question. “Sam, you said that that it’s not clear where I belong. Why is that?”
Sam smiled. “That is a great question Eric, let me explain. Typically, suicide is frowned upon and the determination of your destination would’ve been clear. In this circumstance, however, the water is a little muddy, if you catch my drift. Victims of murder are also taken pity upon and you didn’t have much time left anyways. Now, we find ourselves in a bit of a quandary since both results conflict with one another.”
Eric was shocked by the revelation. “Murder victim? Who was going to kill me?….Shit, I didn’t mean…”
Sam smiled understandingly. “Don’t worry Eric, it’s all the same question. Sit with me a while and I’ll show you. Look into the fire and your answer will reveal itself.”
As Eric stared into the fire, his consciousness seemed to transcend into that of some etherial observer. Eric instantly recognized his kitchen. In a brief moment, Madeline walked into the kitchen carrying a plastic jug. As she set it down on the counter, Eric read the words Anti-freeze. Eric was horrified, but could not speak in his current state as an observer. Eric watched as Madeline looked around to make sure that nobody was watching before making her way to the cabinet where Eric stored his liquor. After procuring Eric’s bottle of brandy, Madeline dumped a portion down the sink before refilling the bottle with anti-freeze. After a quick swirl, Madeline placed the bottle back in the cabinet, before leaving the kitchen with the plastic jug in tow. The scene then cut to Madeline sitting at the kitchen table and speaking to someone on the phone. It was clear by the look in her eyes and the redness of her face that Madeline was furious. Eric listened as Madeline explained that she did what she needed to, but “of course that asshole would quit drinking now.” After listening to the voice on the other end of the line, Madeline finally agreed before hanging up the phone. Eric then watched as multiple scenes flashed before his eyes. In each one, Madeline was preparing food — soups and stews that she often made for Eric in his final days due to his inability to eat solid food as a result of his declining health. Each time before she left the room with Eric’s tray of food, she would produce the bottle of anti-freeze and stir a few spoonfuls into the bowl.
In a flash, Eric was once again sitting in the armchair beside Sam. Eric was unable to hold back his rage. “That ungrateful bitch! I did everything for her!” Eric looked over and saw that Sam was staring wide-eyed at him. Eric hung his head. “I’m so sorry, that was so rude of me. I apologize for disrespecting you with my yelling and profanity.”
Sam’s face seemed to soften. “I forgive you Eric. I know it’s a lot to find out, and I can’t really blame you for your reaction. Let’s just move on. Are you ready for your next question?”
Though Eric was frustrated, he still felt sure about the next question he wanted to ask. “I know where my former wife is bound, but what about the other people in my life like my brother and my daughter. They are great people. Which door will they walk through?”
Sam gestured to the shiny door before speaking. “They will walk through there, but Eric, I want you to understand the totality of the circumstances. I agree that the two of them have been kind, considerate, and giving, but they are not perfect either. Please look back into the fire and I’ll show you.”
Eric was perplexed, but did as he was asked. In a flash, Eric was again observing a moment from the past. Looking around the room, Eric was able to discern that he was in his brother Danny’s living room. Danny sat in his recliner, legs kicked up, and holding a cell phone in his hand. On the television, Danny had been watching a football game, but had muted it when he answered the phone. Eric recognized Madeline’s voice on the other end of the phone, as the all too familiar conversation transpired. During the previous flashback, while Madeline had been on the phone discussing her plans to murder Eric, it was Eric’s own brother on the other end of the line encouraging her. Eric listened as Danny assured Madeline that with Eric out of the picture, the two of them would be free to be together at last. As the call concluded, Eric was furious, but unbeknownst to him, the worst of this flashback was yet to come.
Danny relaxed into his recliner with a smug grin on his face. He picked up the television remote and was right about to turn the volume back on when a knock sounded from the front door. Danny set the remote down, and a wicked smile appeared on his face. As Danny closed the leg rest of the recliner, he called out that the door was unlocked. To Eric’s shock, his daughter Clara walked through the front door, a downtrodden look souring her otherwise beautiful appearance.
“Just the person I wanted to see,” Danny said.
Without context, Danny asked Clara what the price was, to which Clara reluctantly replied $300.
Danny laughed and said that the price was a little steep but it would be worth every penny. Danny dug through his wallet and produced a wad of cash, which he handed to Clara.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Danny asked.
Clara nodded and hung her head. To Eric’s horror, his beautiful, innocent little angel began to undress. Eric wanted to turn away or close his eyes, anything to make this stop, but the vision wouldn’t let him. Eric felt pain in his chest and tears ran from his eyes as he watched his little girl give herself to his monster of a brother. When his brother finally had his fill, Clara quickly dressed and left the house.
The vision then cut to Clara as she drove away in her car. Clara was crying, but did what she could to wipe away the tears. Before long, Clara parked her car in the parking lot of a decrepit building that was once a hotel. As she sat in the parking lot, Clara fixed her makeup in the rearview mirror. Loud music sounded in the distance, gradually getting louder as the vintage muscle car approached. Clara dug through her pockets to retrieve the wad of cash. As the car pulled up to Clara’s driver side window, Clara rolled her window down and stuck her hand out, clutching the wad of cash. In a flash, the driver of the muscle car took the wad of cash, handed Clara a small bag and sped out of the parking lot. Eric’s vision ended with Clara opening the center console of her car and retrieving a lighter, spoon, and syringe.
When Eric’s consciousness returned to his body, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The feelings of anger, disgust, and betrayal flooded him and he tightly gritted his teeth, unable to form any words.
Sam noticed Eric’s discomfort and spoke first, “I know these things are hard to see, but you need to know the truth before you make your decision. You wanted to know which door your brother and daughter will walk through. I can’t answer that question in good conscience without you understanding all of the factors that come into play. The lines can often get blurred, and it is for you to decide which door they deserve, but in the end, all that I can tell you is that they will walk through that door.”
Sam gestured again to the highly polished door behind Eric.
Eric racked his brain trying to determine which destination his brother and daughter both mutually deserved. Eric saw his daughter as a victim and assumed that she would be allowed into an afterlife of eternal grace, but how could his monster of a brother go there alongside her. In contrast, his brother deserved an eternity of suffering, but how could his sweet girl do anything to condemn herself to such a fate. As Eric tried to rationalize his conflicting thoughts, he was suddenly struck by his final question. Eric had no doubt what he would ask.
Remembering the figures on the mantle, Eric quietly raised his head to meet Sam’s gaze. “In many religions, redemption or repentance can save someone from eternal condemnation. Is this true or is it a fallacy?”
Again, Sam smiled, this time nodding in approval of the question. “You are very clever Eric. For what it’s worth, I’m very impressed with your way of thinking. Let me explain this as best as I can. Redemption is definitely possible, but it’s not as easy as confessing your secrets or wrongdoings. Redemption comes as a result of the shame, regret, and guilt that a person feels over their actions. A person must understand that they did wrong and know wholeheartedly that they do not deserve forgiveness in order to get it. It is often said that words without actions are meaningless; that same principle applies here.” Sam took a brief pause before continuing. “As much as I enjoy your company Eric, that was your last question, and it’s time to make your choice.”
Eric thought hard about his life and the things he had done. He remembered all the ways that he failed his family, the ways he took advantage of others, the ways he lied and manipulated people to his benefit, and the people he hurt along the way. Eric thought about what Sam had said about guilt and regret being the key factors for forgiveness, but he could not imagine how he would ever deserve anything more than to experience the suffering that he caused others to endure. Eric didn’t want salvation, he wanted justice, even if that meant an eternity of suffering for himself.
Eric got up silently and walked over to the two doors. As he placed his hand on the rusted doorknob, he announced to Sam that he had made his choice.
Sam rose from his chair, removed his coat and folded it neatly before placing it on his chair. Eric was puzzled as he noticed that the skin on Sam’s face appeared to be tightening on his bones. Eric could clearly see the man’s eye sockets become more defined and he seemed to wither in front of him. The big shock however came when Sam turned around to grab, what appeared to be, a long black duster that was hanging on the back of his chair. Eric stood in awe as he saw Sam stretch the large, black, feathered wings that protruded from his back. As Sam donned the coat, Eric realized that the coat was not a coat, but in fact a hooded black robe. Sam pulled the hood over his head before turning back to face Eric. Eric gasped when he saw that Sam’s head was no longer that of an old man, but was now only a skull.
Despite the lack of flesh, Sam’s voice remained unchanged when he spoke. “It’s an interesting choice you made Eric. If you can’t tell, it’s been a while since that door has been used. I was starting to wonder if there was still reason to keep it around. Go now Eric and see the results of your choice.”
As Eric twisted the knob and opened the door, a warm light emitted from the opening. In an instant, Eric felt love, comfort, and above all, forgiveness. As he went to step into the light, he hesitated for a brief moment. Turning around he called out to Sam, “Since I’ve made my choice, can I ask you one more question?”
Sam nodded in affirmation.
Eric took a deep breath. “You said you had many names. What are some of those names.”
Though unable to display emotion due to the now skeletal appearance, Sam cocked his head slightly to the side in intrigue. “Like I said, I use the name Sam since it tends to be the most welcomed, but I have been called Samael, Azrael, Yama, the ferryman, and the grim reaper among others. Though many assign me a positive or negative connotation, I am neither. Like I said before, my job is merely to escort souls where they are destined.”
Eric nodded his head in understanding and thanked Sam for everything before turning and walking into his eternity.