Advance Notice

There was never enough time. So many things to do and never enough time to get it all done. Martin Johnson had spent most of the last 48 hours preparing for the corporate merger his firm was brokering between two tech giants and this afternoon it was supposed to all come together. Provided, of course, he could seal the deal with the two principals. Martin felt confident he could do it. But first he needed food. It was lunch time and Martin was starving. He was looking forward to devouring some leftover pizza in his fridge. But he never made it to his fridge because an unannounced stranger was waiting for him at his kitchen table.

The stranger was a middle-aged man with balding grayish hair. He was dressed business casual, and his hands were placed demurely on his thighs – a bit prissy thought Martin. But prissy or not, the stranger was violating the sanctity of his home. It was completely unacceptable.

Martin assumed his most threatening stance and demanded of the stranger: “Who the hell are you and why are you in my house?”

The stranger looked directly at Martin with bored eyes, blinked uninterestedly, and shrugged his shoulders. “I am the one who has been assigned to deliver the bad news. I’m afraid, Mr. Martin Johnson of 1700 Central Avenue, that your timecard is punched. End of the line. I am Death and you are my victim of the day.”

Death spoke calmly and with just a hint of melancholy, as if it were a task he found distasteful but was determined to carry it out in a responsible manner. Martin’s confident demeanor was shaken, and he struggled to come up with a quick and pithy retort. He settled on: “If you don’t leave immediately the police will be here in minutes to take you to jail for illegal trespassing.”

“We both know you are lying. I know you made no such call. I disabled your phone and if you bother to try, you will quickly ascertain there is no viable means of communication to the outside world while I am here.”

Martin, disbelieving, pulled out his cell phone to check. Just as the man said, the phone was dead. Martin felt fear hardening in his chest. “What is it that you want?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Why don’t you have a seat for starters? I’ll lay my card out on the table, so to speak.”

Martin sat down on the opposite end of the table from the stranger. The stranger pulled something out of his pants pocket. It was a playing card. He placed it face up and pushed it across the mahogany table so that it stopped directly in front of Martin. The image on the card was the grim reaper.

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Martin said, but even as he spoke, he knew that it was not. The card promptly burned to ash.

“That’s one of my fun tricks. It’s a good tone-shifter. Now we can all agree – shit just got real.” The stranger paused. His eyes had become more animated. His posture was more erect. He had gone from bored to delighted in an instant. Martin knew at that moment he was a dead man. Whether the stranger truly was death incarnate or just a mad lunatic who knew fancy card tricks, either way he had run out of options.

“Any questions, Martin? Yeah, I know your name, your history, all your hopes and dreams. It’s not terribly interesting to me, not so very unique. But you got me on a good day. I’m not going to kill you right away. Maybe I’m having my own mid-life crisis. You know all about that, bub. Or maybe I just need a little variety to mix up the hum drum of dying, dying, and more dying. I’ve killed humans in so many ways, and yet, it just doesn’t do it for me the way it used to. Maybe I’m ready for retirement. But enough about me. Let’s get back to you. I am going to give you a gift I have never given anyone before.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Want to know what it is? Come on, man! I’m doing all the talking here. You’re boring me.”

“What is this gift?” Martin tried to sound tough, but the words came out limp and feeble.

“The gift I give to you, Martin Johnson, is advance notice. How about that, huh? You ought to be jumping for joy. Well, I suppose you might have questions. Let’s have them.”

“Questions? Yes, yes, I do.” Martin realized what he said next could have mortal implications. “Are you telling me, that you’re going to tell me when I will die?”

“That’s it! You catch on real quick, pal. I’m starting to like you. Say, I’m feeling generous. How much time would you like?”

Before Martin could answer, Death broke into braying laughter. “I had you there, didn’t I partner? Hoo boy, that was a good one. How much time would you like… how preposterous! No, no, let’s not get carried away with kindness now. Advance notice, yes. Pick your time? Give me a freaking break.”

His levity ended abruptly, and the tired dead eyes came back. “You’ve got 24 hours. And actually, not quite, because as I mentioned previously, during your less than warm hospitality, the clock started ticking 4 minutes and…” he looked at his wristwatch, “37 seconds ago.”

Silence filled the room. Martin understood everything Death had told him was undoubtedly true. He felt no need to argue, bargain, or retaliate. Any such actions would be useless and would simply waste time. Time that was now, Martin keenly understood, more precious than any other commodity.

  Martin spoke: “Then I suppose I had better make good use of the time I have left.”

“I’d guess you’d better. Seeing as you’re being so docile and cooperative – really, I thought I’d get a little more fight from a corporate lawyer like yourself – but I guess the prospect of looming death makes cowards of all of you mortals.” Death checked his watch. “See you tomorrow, then. I wonder, will you sleep half your time away, or will you power through? Tough decisions. Adios!” Death disappeared leaving Martin alone to ponder his predicament. 

  Martin first wept bitterly for the loss of his life, which he loved. He thought of his children, Katie and Jake. He wouldn’t see them grow up. He would never find and marry his true love and live out his twilight years peacefully as he had always imagined. Eventually he got a hold of himself. He got a notepad and pencil. For the next hour he wrote down all the things that mattered most to him in life. The list was quite exhaustive. He whittled it down to the tasks he felt he could accomplish in his remaining time.

***

Approximately 22 hours later, Martin arrived at the visitor’s entrance to the Grand Canyon at 1:35 pm. He paid the $10 dollar suggested donation entrance fee and drove to the section of the park where 30 years ago he and his father had sat at the edge of the canyon watching the sun begin its colorful descent. He felt the exhaustion of having driven nine straight hours to get here with less than 30 minutes to spare. He hadn’t slept in 36 hours and was on the verge of collapse.

The sun was close to its apex in the sky and the blinding white light made it almost painful to look straight ahead. Parts of the cannon were sparkling in luminous brilliance. The Colorado River below could be seen swirling and eddying in the same way it had for millions of years. Martin fell asleep.

The second his eyelids had closed he was startled by a rudely awakening slap on the back, and two hands gripping his shoulders tightly. Naturally it was Death, meeting him just like he said he would.

“Well, fancy meeting you here. What are the odds? Quite a view, isn’t it? So how about it, pal? Ready to meet your maker? We could do it in so many different ways. How about I slit your throat and steal your wallet? Authorities will think your life was taken for some quick cash. Or I could strangle you? Maybe snap your neck? That’s pretty merciful. Doesn’t hurt much and is quite quick. Pushing you off seems the obvious choice. But that’s a little boring don’t you think?”

 “It’s out of my hands now anyway. Do with me what you will. I’ve done what I needed to do. Thank you for your kindness in giving me a little extra time to take care of my affairs.”

“Kindness, huh? Didn’t I tell you I did it out of boredom? Are you so sleep deprived you don’t remember any of our illuminating conversation from yesterday?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m ready. However you want to kill me, just do it.”

Martin closed his eyes and held his breath. Death was silent. No sound but the cawing of birds in the trees and distant motor sounds from tourists driving around the canyon.

“Ugh! You are so damn boring, Martin! Okay, tell me about your little list and all the things you did since we last met. I will indulge you.”

“Why do you even care?”

“I don’t really. But seeing as I gave you my great gift of advance notice, and I’ve only done that a handful of times to my recollection, I figure I might as well ask what you did with the time.”

“What’s the point? You only seem interested in insulting and provoking me. You’re actually kind of pathetic. What a pointless and sad existence you must live if this is how you get your kicks.”

“Strong words for someone who’s about to be vulture meat. Maybe I should just kill you. Save me the bother of listening to a boring story.”

“I’m at peace with myself. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Cut the crap. You’re like all the rest. Everyone wants to save their hide given the opportunity. Let me know how you spent your final day on earth and maybe I’ll consider sparing your life. No promises. But you gotta put on the dog and pony show if you want to find out.”

Martin considered. He did love his life. The last 24 hours had made that clear to him. And there were things worth sticking around for if given the opportunity. “Okay, I’ll tell you. Since you’re obviously interested.”

“Hardly.”

“After your little card trick I made a list – basically a 24-hr bucket list. It took me a long time to get everything down, but I realized there were only a few things that I could actually accomplish in a day. My kids were the most important relationships for me. I took them out of school, one at a time, and spent some quality time with them. I’d never felt closer to them than I did yesterday. I was able to tell them I loved them, and it was beautiful.”

“Gross.” The stranger made pretend throw-up sounds.

“I don’t care what you think about it. You asked me what I did and I’m telling you.”

“Fine. Proceed.”

“Next, I drove out to see my best friend from childhood. I wanted to see him to tell him everything he meant to me, but I had another reason for the visit. Max is a lawyer who deals with contracts, and I was pretty sure he was able to draft a will. Making a will was always something I meant to get around to but never did. Well, with your advance notice, it would be pretty darn stupid to not take care of it at that point. I convinced Max to fast track it for me and gave him permission to forge my signature on anything that couldn’t be handled that night.”

“And there was another thing I needed Max for.” Martin stopped talking and gazed contemplatively across the canyon.

“Yes. And?”

"Well, Max and I used to hang out with a woman named Abigail. We both had the hots for her, but Max ultimately ended up marrying her. They weren’t right for each other, though, and divorced a few years later. I always used to fantasize about what my life would have been like with her.”

“One night when were hanging out together and drinking rather heavily, Max passed out and it was just the two of us. One thing led to another and… well, it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done to my friend Max. I felt horrible about it. Obviously, Abigail did too. We decided it was best to keep it a secret, for Max’s sake. She still loved him, she told me. I believed her. But I could never get that night out of my head.”

“Let me guess, you laid out all your dirty laundry on your friend to cleanse your soul before meeting the grave?”

“Not quite. I thought I would do that at first. But Max and I were getting along so well. I didn’t want our last time together to end up being bittersweet with that revelation. Instead, I stole his phone when he went to the bathroom and looked up her number.”

“You sly dog. Going for one last hurrah, weren’t you?”

“Naturally, the thought crossed my mind. I at least wanted to see her face again, tell her the way I felt about her. The way I still feel about her. I called her up and told her I was in the area and would love to get together. I convinced her to see me that night.”

“Go on.” The stranger said lasciviously.

“I drove over to her house and she let me in. We had a few cocktails and things were progressing really well. Maybe it was too soon, but I was running out of time. So, I just blurted out I loved her.

“Oh yeah? And how’d she respond to that?”

“Well, she got weird. Said it was late and she had to get up early. The language of rejection. But then something crazy happened. As I was walking out of her house and back to my car with my tail between my legs, she came running after me and threw her arms around my neck. I don’t know what got into her, but I sure wasn’t complaining.”

“Alright! Time for details. Give it up.”

“Ah, there’s not much more to tell. I told her I had a long drive and had to take off, but it was great reconnecting.”

“Lies, lies, lies! Tell me the truth or I kill you now.”

“Okay, okay. So we made out and things moved to the bedroom. And well, things kind of stopped pretty abruptly. She kicked me out.”

 “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly why she kicked me out.”

“Maybe. But I want to hear you say it.”

“She unzipped my pants and instead of what was expected there was enormous slimy slug with two little buggy eyes staring up at her. After she finished vomiting, she told me she was getting her gun and I had better hightail it before she found it.”

Death was laughing so hard he knocked himself over, clutching his sides.

“Proud of your little handywork?”

“I knew you would go for a woman, you horndog! So predictable. So hilariously predictable.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hardy-har-har. You’re a riot. I’m glad I was able to amuse you. So what happens now?”

“Oh that. I already took care of that. Embolism. Shortly after your eyes closed. You’ve been dead several minutes now. It was quick and painless though. You’re welcome.”

“Oh.”

"So what happens now?”

“From my understanding it’s something like connecting back to your essence, or original source. You find out if you resolved the problem or issue your original source set out for you solve. If you were successful, you ascend to a higher level of being. If not, then you get cast off to an equal or lesser life form with some simpler variation of the original purpose.”

“Do you know what my purpose was?”

“Yeah, I think so, it was in your file. Just a minute…” Death looked upwards, and his eyes flickered back and forth rapidly. “Your essence wanted to experience living a morally decrepit existence, fall in love, and then degrade the object of its love. Hey you know, I’d say mission accomplished. Once again, you’re welcome.”

"So you’re saying I may have achieved my lesson and I might be able to ascend to a higher plane?”

“I don’t know, bub. But I’d say you’ve got a decent shot.”

“We’ve gotten pretty personal here. Do you have a real name?”

"Yeah, but I’d rather not tell you. What do you care anyway, you’re about to die.”

“Maybe, I’d like to know the name of my assassin.”

“Fine. It’s Archibald.”

“Really.”

“Yes.”

“That’s kind of a dumb name for someone who introduces himself as Death.”

"Well, I didn’t pick it.”

“Archibald, I feel like we’ve become kind of friends throughout this ordeal.”

“I’ve known worse people.”

“I’m a little scared about what happens next.”

“Yeah, you are kind of a pussy.”

“Have you ever died?”

“Probably. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten all about it.”

“Would you mind coming with me to wherever I go next? I’d feel a little better about it if I wasn’t facing it alone.”

"Yeah, I’ll give you the tour. Of course, once you connect with your source you probably won’t need me anymore.”

“I appreciate the company anyway.”

Martin and Archibald stepped off the canyon ridge together and began their slow descent toward something new.