Life and Death

A series of short stories that offer brief windows into the worlds of people confronted by the immediacy of the window between life and death.

Closure

 

‘What do you think we’ll see there?’

‘What?’

‘The other side.’

‘It ends like this, buddy. This world’s the only one you get to see.’

‘There’s gotta be more to this, Jimmy. Life can’t just vanish into nothing.’

‘That’s exactly what life does, every damn time.’

‘Everyone’s got a soul. Souls don’t just disappear.’

‘No such thing as a soul, Tom. Those cross-waving hypocrites been lying all along. You’re just another heap of dust.’

‘That doesn’t make it easy.’

‘I mean that in the best way. Best heap of dust I ever had the pleasure of meeting.’

‘So there’s no God? Just black?’

‘Don’t sweat over it. Once you fade out, there’s nothing to see or feel. Not even black.’

‘He must be up there, man. Just waiting to throw out an arm and heave us up into heaven.’

‘Tom, saying there is something up top, you really think he’ll be all grateful and letting us into his pleasure palace? Things we’ve done, you and me, we don’t deserve no kindness.’

Ready

‘You’ve been a real comfort, Jimmy. Making me all relieved.’

‘Don’t want you believing no lies, Tom. You face down the truth as a man, or you run the other way and lose yourself. And you don’t want to go down as another creature of delusion.’’

Aim

‘I’m scared, Jimmy.’

Jimmy looks across at Tom, a shadow of a smile playing on his thin lips.

‘Just accept it. There’s no regretting this.’

Fire

The Shot

‘The duel will begin, on my count.’

The folk of Hershaw had gathered in droves around the muddied street, excited at the thought of entertainment finally reaching their little town. I set myself, feet planted firm, shoulders hunched, and stared till everyone and everything faded from focus. Everything but me and Billy under the dying sun. Not an hour gone since we were playing our hands at the saloon table. His mouth was now twisted in a vicious snarl, eyes glinting.

‘One.’

I turned from Billy and took a measured stride away. No sound to hear but old Marston’s hoarse voice.

‘Two.’

Another step. Another age. I could feel my hand shaking slightly as it hovered above the holster. Four years of that same trick and I hadn’t been caught playing foul once. Till darn Billy looked the wrong way.

‘Three.’

Just that one more sound. Coiled for action. My heart now thrashing around like a stricken child. All this for a game of cards?

‘Four.’

A whirl of motion.

Bang

I could now hear the roar of laughter escaping Billy’s figure.

Missed.

Bang.

Rescue

The soldier was crushed beneath the rubble when I found him. A little grey on the face, a bloodied leg, but plenty alive. His struggles weren’t much help against the wreckage that had clambered on top of him. Some luck that I had heard his hoarse screams drifting out from deep within the abandoned school. Which sure had reason to be empty now. A blast of mortar had made ugly work of the boxed walls.

‘Jesus, I thought this was it.’

His voice sounded familiar. Sickly strong.

‘Is the town lost? There can’t be much time, get me out!’

‘The Russians will have their boots on the streets any moment. The 12th Volksgrenadier division are in flight.’

The man went red beneath the dust.

‘Scheisse! Get these bricks off me!’

A mean beak of a nose set against features otherwise measured to the Führer’s Aryan dream. The ringing from the barrage of explosions still swam between my ears, trying to block all thoughts. Who was this guy?

‘Who do you serve under?’

He cut his frantic struggle short to stare at me, trying to make some sense of the question and the situation. But I had him now, the picture finally linked with memory. The face that had mocked me when I had wilted from plastering the brains of a Jewish family against the wall, all those years back in the Warsaw Ghetto. The voice that had sneered as he shoved me to the side and proceeded to mark a hole in the heads of the screaming mother, then the cowering father, and finally the vacant-eyed son.

‘Was that such a difficult thing, täuschen?’

Only it was. It always was.

The noise was still clanging through my brain. I didn’t want to spend another second in this ashen hall.

His voice reached a new pitch of desperation as I turned and walked back over the fallen door. No survivors to report to the Major.

‘What...what are you doing?’

Helpless. I didn’t spare a look or a word for my fellow soldier, he would have his ending soon enough. The Russians were coming.

Clearing

Wolf buried his face deep in Mother’s fur. Why didn’t she move? The rain was forming pools around her, but still she was silent. He had wobbled out eagerly to meet Mother’s return from the hunt, only to find her lying against the grass. The air smelt bad, Mother smelt bad. Where was the wet lick on the muzzle she always gave him?

*

Joe gently moved the branch to the side and swung the rifle till the little wolf cub was in his sights. The creature was wandering aimlessly in the clearing, battered by the incessant whip of rain, a lost soul without a mother’s nudge. It had no idea what was lying beyond the open patch of muddied grass. Joe’s finger rested on the trigger. For the cub’s sake, he should end it now. The wet ball of fur had no chance. It was easy prey without its mother, and there was no way it was finding any food by itself. Joe had killed what was probably the father, a week earlier by the field, after it had killed two of his stock. The mother had to be dealt with, so he had come looking. This would be finishing the job. But it didn’t feel right.

*

Wolf smelt something different in the air. Not the strangeness of Mother, not the stench of water striking green. This was new. He was curious now, plodding towards the leaves where the scent was coming from. A long stick was aimed his way. Behind it, a face. What the face was, he had no idea. He stopped, the stick made him uneasy. He yelped, his voice wavering.

*

The little thing was still staring right at him. Wasn’t it afraid? Joe’s finger was pressed tight against the trigger, but that extra touch didn’t seem to be in him. No thoughts when he shot the mother, scampering back to the den. But there was nothing in this beast that he could kill or let die with an easy mind. Joe gave a weary sigh and moved towards the transfixed cub. Debby and Rachel would be delighted with their new playmate.

 

 

 

 

The Soldier

‘Elumbu!!’

Master Harin was striding towards the group, waving that taped cane of his. Another drill. Thakshanth scrambled quickly to his feet along with the rest. The sun was at its highest, flaring up mercilessly against a stainless backdrop, trying to force him back down to the mess of grass on sand. The pang would not leave his stomach. This was like any other march, any other exercise. But it felt wrong.

‘In your lines! Guns loaded, now!’

Thakshanth ignored his burning legs and ran amongst the ordered confusion, finding his place on the edge of the forming line. 

‘Now! Hurry!’

Thakshanth clicked his AK-47 into place and stole a look at the faces around him. Sullen, staring vacantly to the front. Resembling strange shells of the friends, his only friends, that he had known for over a year. The fancy speeches given by Master Harin...the others...they didn’t feel so real now.

A booming sound cracked through the air and Thakshanth stepped back into the boy behind him. The ground had trembled.

‘March forwards! Now!’ There was an edge to Master Harin’s voice.

The children knew nothing but to obey, moving through the last of the thicket. The ground opened up in a vast expanse of hard sand, broken here and there by patches of water left by the sea. Thakshanth could see a mess of barbed wires on the horizon. And faint flickers of movement. The enemy Sinhalese. No exercise. This was it. This was real.

Again a shuddering blast.

Thakshanth felt a jab in the small of his back as the boy behind him urged him on. He could hear the screams of his mother now, as they dragged him away from the clay hut by the sea. But her face, he wasn’t sure anymore. Life before was a blurring fade of memories.

The jab of the rifle came back, harsher.

‘Move Thakshanth! Master will see you!’

Thakshanth stuttered forward back to his line. His hands were clammy against the grip of the gun. He was only thirteen. Not enough for this.

Another explosion. Louder. Much louder.

Thakshanth turned and ran.

 

 

An Ending

It felt like a dream, one that was slowly fading away.

I kicked desperately at the ground till my back reached the stump of the wall that remained. A trail of blood remained in my wake. I leant back, hands still pressed against the flesh, blood streaming between my fingers. I had felt invincible, marching towards the field of war. No counting of the men who had found an ugly ending in the sights of my rifle. That didn’t matter. What mattered were the sharp stabs of pain in my gut that followed. And here I was, unmanned. Waiting for the end. Knowing death could not be cheated this time. The agony was second nature to this helplessness.

They didn’t spare a glance for me, a silent, still figure amongst the chaos. The narrow street had reduced the battle to a swarm of brutality. Soldiers swinging bayonet against bayonet, rolling around on the mud and rubble, it all seemed so distant to me. The gunfire and explosions came as faint thuds against the backdrop, and the men themselves moved in a harmless blur. I did not care for them. I did not care who was winning, who I fought for. It felt empty now, meaningless against the flame of life.

I closed my eyes to the world. The pain sweeping through my stomach was starting to sink to a new depth. And I was falling down with it. There was no light twinkling above the surface, nothing to swim back up to. Soon it was just me against the expanse of blue darkness. Floating, falling. I could still hear the music of battle from an age away, like an old radio playing to any empty house.

I wondered what was next. After the dream drew to a close, after my back found the ocean floor. Was there something lying in the beyond? Even just an end to the feel of pain was a story welcome enough. I held no fear for the next chapter. Peace was stalking me, approaching gently. The vast blue was swallowing everything.

And then I was away from it all.