Conversation and a Smoke (revised/unfinished)

Person dies, then...

I became aware. Immediately my eyes burnt in an intense flood of light. I squirmed, covered my face in my hands, and I turned. It was everywhere and regardless of how tightly I tried to seal them; I couldn’t keep the light from coming through and burning my eyes. Thankfully, it couldn’t have been searing more than a few moments before the white of the light began to subside and I felt a great relief throughout my body, especially the ocular area. The release from pain revealed an indistinguishable blur of colors as my sight returned. Notably among these colors was a large stain of gold directly in front of where I stood.

            I deeply rubbed, and wiped the filth from my eyes. As I then used them to peer about my surroundings, the blur slowly began to focus. The room, as it turned out to be, begun to take form with the shape of shelves, books, and the deep contrast of gold illuminated by the bloody glow of a fire place. The gold that was in front of me was undoubtedly the largest desk I had ever seen, large enough for six men. The gold of the desk seemed to be carved or scratched with an immeasurable amount of tiny curls and swooshing lines; from the shadowed gouges, carved deeply I guessed. It was difficult to gather anything more of the significance or details of it from the distance I stood.  The only light in the room came from the swells of red, pulsing from the fire place. It was a remarkably calm fire, rarely seeming to flick or hiss, not doing anything to interrupt it’s creation of the important lighting.

            “’Ey,”

            I noticed a figure behind the desk, the source of the call.  

            “I have a few questions for you, if that’s ok?” he said lazily. He tapped a pencil on the desk.

With an equal energy he sat forward, “Have a seat if you would like”, he stretched his pencil hand to a chair opposite of him in a gesture of guidance.

Why not? I didn’t see how I had any other function in this place of greater importance then to indulge this character. It shouldn’t go unsaid that the comfort of the chair would go unappreciated either. I noticed a physical exhaustion in myself. His face was shadowed by one of the many tall towers of books on the desk, and as I took the seat between he and I, I was disappointed to see that it didn’t become any less obscured from the light. There were two things that I did noticed however; first I recognized a number of the titles among his towers. Some of these I had read, some were even among my favorites. Second; the swirled and swooshed carving on the gold desk, was actually fine engraving of fantastic detail. On it, men and women flowed together in what I would guess, where representations of old stories. Some of the men and women seemed to almost be acting out dramatic dialogues with one another. Some of the men and woman On the other hand, some were obviously in pain, some were crying and some were obviously dying. It was intimidating, I was afraid to touch it. I got the impression that this desk was a very important desk.

            He dug an elbow into the surface of the mammoth masterpiece. “Would you care for something to eat, drink maybe?”

            “Well…” I thought, and I scanned the room, “how about bourbon and a cigarette?” I could see his teeth grow into a grin, and his head subtly bob.

 “Ah, of course”, the tone of his voice seemed to be pleased with my selection. He disappeared underneath his desk, which gave me a moment to take in the room.  Except for the wall to my left, each was hidden by shelves, full of books thrown into crooked piles. An antiquated copper globe sat on a small table to my right. A rich crimson rug took the floor. “Rocks, chaser?” he called.

            I puffed a grunt and flashed a smile of my own, “No”. He appeared. “I think I just want whiskey”. He produced a tray on the desk that carried two glasses, a dusted, un-marked bottle of bourbon, and two, larger than average cigarettes. “Whoa, look at these”, and I picked up one of the finger sized rolls of tobacco. I gave it a smell. Not only did I not recognize the markings or the script used for the Latin name, but it had an odd odor. His smile seemed to grow larger.

“Oh, yea, those are the good ones”, his laugh was even exhausted. He picked up the other.

            As he poured our drinks I attempted to size him up. He was tall, thin, and wore a blue suit, but other than that he seemed as though he could be any tried and tired worker. Despite his obvious fatigue, he seemed to me a consummate professional. The light grew just enough at one moment that I almost believed that I could see a beard on his face.

            “Here you go” he placed a full glass in front of me, and one in front of himself, “and,” he pulled a wind proof lighter from his suit. My mouthed cigarette met his flaming lighter above the middle of the desk. “There you go”.

            I, savoring, inhaled the smoke, let it go. I, slowly, held a mouth full of whiskey; let it burn the whole way down. The tobacco was full, and curiously spiced, it was rich. I was without doubt now that I hadn’t seen the brand before, but I’d keep an eye open for it. The bourbon was deep and mellow, it was my favorite label. “I agree very good stuff”, I thanked.

            “So, before you move on, to the next step, I would like you to help me with some things”. He reached under the desk and produced a folder full of papers.

 “What about” I felt I needed to ask.

 “This guy”, he put the open folder down so that I could read it.

            “oh, um”, I knew the man whose  picture was sitting on top of the first page, but I didn’t know why I would be able to help anybody with anything regarding him, nor did I know if I wanted to help anybody with anything regarding him. “What about this guy”?

 “If I’m not mistaken, he has caused a great deal of pain for you”, he was not mistaken, “pain and reasonable suffering, no need to go into details. What I would like from you, is to tell me what it is, that you want done with him”.

            Surely I had misunderstood, “excuse me” I replied.

 “Well who better” he continued, “to decide what kind of place he ends up in, then the person who he betrayed, and ruined”? I waited for a sign of humor, there was none. He was serious.

All I could think to ask was, “what do you mean by, ends up”? As soon as the words lept from my lips a chill shot through me, and I feared to move.

 “What kind of eternity do you want for him? Have you forgiven or forgotten him? Do you wish to have him treated justly for his actions? Of course, if you chose to have him pay the concicuencs you can choose down the most minute detail the fashion of his torture”, he explained.

 I knew who he was, “you...”

 “Yea, that would be me” he reassured.

“But”, I began,

 “You have never seriously hurt anyone, never intentialy sought to ruin someone’s life, or gain pleasure at the expense of other without concern for them, but he has. And he did them to you. So you choose” he finished.

            Form the instant I knew who sat across from me, his/her face, though still covered by shadow, seemingly began to shift. It shifted from a man’s chin, to woman’s, to blue skin, to pink, beard, scales. The process never stopped, it never ended.  It was the eyes that frightened me the most. While the rest of his/her body morphed without rest, the eyes glowed white, never changing, never moving, only staring directly at me.

            “Is this a trick”, I heard come from my throat.

He/She laughed, “No, not at all”. His/her voice fluctuated pitches and sex as well. I took a drag for my cigarette, I took a drink of my whiskey, he/she did the same. We sat in silence at a digested my situation, what I had just heard, the power given to me, as we both enjoyed our drinks and our tobacco. I looked about the room.

            Finally, “where I’m going”,

            “Yea”

            “What’s it like?”

            “You know, lots of sunshine, birds, you’d like it. Or rain, rain if you would prefer it”

            “I would”

            “Then rain it is”. He said, “It’s entirely up to you, I think you deserve the right to make this decision, about this guy not the rain. Well the rain too but, I… you know what I mean” he/she reaffirmed. Another mouthful of whiskey was swirled around his/her tongue slowly.

            I put an empty glass to my lips, “eh”, I sighed.

            “Here let me,” he/she took my glass and quickly poured another generous portion for me, then handed it back.

“But if I say that I want him, too, you know, you will think I’m a blood thirsty killer, and therefore not worthy of the choice”, I inserted.

He/she laughed again “no, people deserve to suffer and bleed as much as people deserve to live peacefully. It only depends on who they are. That’s simply how things are. If you say he has earned the right to suffer nightmares man isn’t capable of conceiving, then I agree with you.”. I considered what I was told.

            “You are only human, remember that”

            After I had pieced together the specifics of my on another I stood. Somehow I felt dirty, and stained, but in some part of my conscious I felt greatly relieved and vindicated. I had made the choice I knew that I would, I made the choice that I knew I had to. We shook hands and exchanged farewell pleasantries. He/she pointed out a door behind me. As opened it, I saw his face, blistered and lacerated, screaming in pain. “This would be a good one to scratch on your desk”, I said as I walked through

Author's Note

my rough drafts like this are raw and un revised. accordingly the grammar, punctuation and paragraphs are off. this are the drafts I make just to get my unpolished ideas down and not forgotten.