RE: Extenuating Circumstances

The man who sat across the table possessed no admirable or unique qualities. His features meshed together to form a presence so benign that forming an opinion on him would take a concerted effort. He sat at a glass top table with two plain steel chairs. Sterile white walls surrounded on all sides, shining bright with light from an unknown source. In the second chair sat Jacob, staring at the banal figure given the lack of anything else even marginally stimulating to look at.

Jacob sat still in his chair as he observed the man. The only detectable movement Jacob dared risk came from his own chest rising and falling, his eyelids blinking. Despite his familiar anxiety attempting to flare behind his dark green eyes, he felt oddly calm. No sinking feeling in his stomach; no goose bumps; nothing. The hollow anxiety began to quickly subside before being quenched, and he felt something he had not experienced in a long time. A state of mind he didn't realize he had lacked until now.

Quiet.

The typical worry that accompanied Jacob through his day was absent. Anxious voices echoing fears within his skull were far beyond earshot. He inhaled deeply and held it as he shut his eyes, soaking in the ecstasy of an empty head. Exhaling, he began assessing his current situation. He had no recollection of how he came to be here. Trying to retrieve any relevant memories, his head instantly became flushed with a wave of overpowering noise, overgrown static filling his head past capacity. He reached out, grasping for anything that would make it stop, finding nothing but liquid fire to hold on to.

The man sitting opposite Jacob snapped his fingers, which ceased the buzzing instantaneously.

“I'd be careful. Recalling too much at once tends to cause an overload. It's quite unpleasant, as I'm sure you just discovered.”

Reeling from the utter reckoning he just experienced, Jacob caught his breath as he felt the smooth table surface on his cheek. Raising his head from the table, blinking furiously to clear the water from his eyes, he fixed his gaze on the man.

“What in the bloody hell was that?!” Jacob roared with a labored breath.

Calmly, the man replied, “Like I said: an overload. You tried to recall too many memories at once. Drawing more input from the source than the Display can handle will do that.”

Jacob furled his brow, “I'm sorry, the what?”

“The Display,” the man replied. “The device that draws upon your memories for... I'm sorry, were you not informed of it's workings upon arrival?” Jacob shook his head. “I see. It seems some info was left out of your orientation.”

“What are you talking about? Orientation? Memories? Where am I, and what am I doing here?”

The man's collected demeanor withered away. “Are you to say you don't know why you're here?”

“Nope. Figured you'd be able to enlighten me?” Jacob asked, his patience slowly waning.

“Oh my... this is quite...unusual. Normally you explain your reasoning for being here as you are the Applicant. If you do not know why...”

“Wait, I'm the what?” Jacob interrupted. “I'm the... Applicant? What is this, the DMV?”

A small smile cracked the man's worried expression. “Not quite. We do provide services rendered, but in a different manner. This is the WMP Department.”

“The Windows, Malarkey, and Parks Department?” Jacob asked.

“Close, but not quite. The Wish, Miracle, and Prayer Department.”

Despite the absurdity of the statement, Jacob knew the man spoke truth. He could not explain it, but he could not find any reason to doubt the man's words.

“So you're saying I'm here because I made a wish?” Jacob inquired.

“Correct. Or a Miracle or Prayer Request. They all get routed to us,” the man replied.

“But...I didn't make a Request? Definitely didn't pray; don't believe in all that.”

“Well, let's pull up your file and see what it says, shall we?” The man smiled as he tapped the table. A small square section lit up, revealing a touchscreen monitor. His finger danced across the surface as it drew various patterns, and the bright white light of one wall was replaced with a digital display stretching from floor to ceiling.

“Typically, we would review your Request first.” He pulled up what looked like a standardized form with Jacob's name written at the top. Basic info about him (age, height, place of birth, etc.) was entered in various fields. However, the field's labeled “REQUEST DESCRIPTION” and “REASON FOR REQUEST” were blank.

“How... irregular. Our system does not permit incomplete forms to be submitted.”

“Are you sure I'm not just dead?” Jacob chimed in. “That'd explain a lot.”

“I don't think so. Do you feel dead?”

“Lemme check,” Jacob pat himself down, checking for any wounds. “Nope. Feel fine. However, I won't rule out me being a zombie.”

The man smirked, “I highly doubt that.”

“I dunno. Your brain is looking tastier by the second.”

“You are quite cheery for someone who may be dead. Or, failing that, needs a miracle performed.”

“Or a Wish or Prayer, apparently,” Jacob added.

“Right. Well, hopefully we'll get this mess sorted and find out why you're here as we review your case.”

The man tapped the table, and the wall returned to its' white hue. “Normally we review your Request by examining your life and how many Good-Will Credits you've earned. This is done by reviewing your memories.”

“Hence why my brain tried to kill itself earlier.”

“Yeah...Sorry about that. Usually you learn about the process before being plugged in. Due to the file sizes we're dealing with, we can only view one memory at a time. Attempting to access more than that tends to cause...feedback. As a result, it can take a while to complete the review. I've leased this room for a period of time that I think is sufficient to get through it all: approximately one year.”

“I'm sorry, did you say a year?” Jacob asked, exasperated.

“Indeed. Don't worry, it'll go by in a flash. You won't miss anything back on Earth either as time works a little weird here. You'll be placed back at the moment of your Request; like you never left at all.”

“I guess I don't have any choice in the matter?”

“Correct. I facilitate the review, and when we get to where you made your Request, I decide whether to grant or deny said Request...whatever it may be. I'll admit, considering the highly unusual circumstances, I'm curious to get to the bottom of this. With all of that out of the way, shall we get started?” The man reached down to his wristwatch and set it: 365:00:00:00. He clicked it once more and it began counting down:

364:23:59:59...

364:23:59:58...

364:23:59:57...

“Just one question,” Jacob asked. “What do I call you?”

“You can call me Steve.”

*****

The room was filled with a myriad of colors and noises. Dozens of brightly colored balloons, streamers, and confetti were strewn about. Kids frolicked through the scene either playfully chasing each other, or wholly entranced with the vivid palette of decorations. One child was riding a recently unpackaged Big Wheels while wearing a plastic crown, feeling like he was on top of the world.

“My mom knew how to throw parties,” Jacob proclaimed as he and Steve walked through the scene. “This is my first memory; I had just turned three, and felt like three bucks”.

“Don't you mean a million bucks?” Steve asked.

“No. I was three. I had no concept of what a hundred was, let alone a million. But I understood three, since that's what I was.”

Steve nodded, “fair point.” He walked through the scene away from Jacob. “We start with early memories to ease you into the process. Older memories are more degraded, and your limited perception and understanding at that age makes them easier to process.”

“So how is the scene so vivid? There's no way I could recall all this detail.” Jacob asked.

“We have ways of...filling in the cracks, so to speak. Know that everything you'll see is a faithful depiction of real events.” Steve walked to the dining room table. He brushed aside some streamers and tapped it, causing every object in the scene to pause, which then flew away from the two of them back to form four walls, which faded to a familiar bright white. “I won't lie, this process is never easy. Everyone has memories they'd rather not revisit, while others they want to spend a lifetime in. However, due to our limited time, we cannot stay in any single memory for too long. If we did, we'd go way over budget on our room time. Now that you know how all this works, are you ready to dive in?”

Jacob hesitated. There were some memories he really did not want to revisit. More than that, he was afraid of what he would find at the end: the reason why he was here. But he begrudgingly nodded. “Excellent!” Steve exclaimed as he tapped the table-monitor. Jacob's childhood living room rendered onto the walls. Breathing in deep, Jacob walked toward the wall. The objects in the room began jumping out from the wall, enveloping him in the atmosphere of his house. The smells, the feels, the sounds; he was home.

Steve followed, then turned to Jacob. “Alright. Let's get to work”.

*****

The pair wandered through Jacob's 8th grade middle school dance. They walked up to a pimple-faced Jacob sitting on the side-lines, alone. “No luck with the ladies?” Steve asked.

“I wasn't terribly popular in school, and had the confidence of a drowning fish.” Jacob replied.

“Confidence of a... drowning fish?” Steve smirked. “That's a new one.”

“I was better with words than with people.”

“So it would seem,” Steve replied. He then looked to the crowd to see groups of teenagers dancing. Some were more skilled than others, but all having fun nonetheless. It was a stark contrast to the lonely Jacob.

“I always worried about everything I did,” Jacob began. “Not having many friends, especially in school, makes you wonder if there's something wrong with you. ‘Am I doing something wrong?’ ‘Am I missing some fundamental secret everyone else already figured out?’ These questions have haunted me most of my life. I was eventually diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Depression. Sorry to spoil the story, but it shouldn't surprise you really.”

Steve considered Jacob's words for a moment. “I've seen similar chains of events in other cases. You aren't alone in that regard, however comforting that may be.”

Jacob shrugged, “I learned to live with it.” Jacob paused a moment, then decided to change the subject. “By the way, isn't all of this...ya know, God's territory? Miracles and whatnot?”

“Oh, it is. But humanity's expanded so much lately, They can't keep up. As a result, They turned to outsourcing, as it were.” Steve replied.

“I'm sorry...what? God outsourced miracles?”

“Yup.”

“So I guess God's not all-powerful then? Shame.”

“They are, it's just... complicated. All I know is that I enjoy my work. I help people at their worst moments,” Steve said with a smile.

“I suppose. I wonder how people would react to the knowledge that some guy named “Steve” is in charge of their fate.”

“Quite positively, actually. You seem to be taking the news pretty well.”

Jacob smiled. “Fair enough. Can we get out of here? I hate this memory.”

“Fine by me”. Steve looked at his watch: 227:16:18:48. “We have plenty of time though.”

*****

“I've told you, I don't want to revisit this period of my life.”

“And I told you, I need to see everything. No matter how painful.”

Jacob paused, then sheepishly nodded, “Fine. Let's get it over with.”

Jacob and Steve explored perhaps the darkest years of Jacob's past. In his mid-twenties, his father was diagnosed with lung cancer at 52, but his prognosis looked good, and he seemed to be getting better. However, a year after the diagnosis, his health took a dive and he passed. Then, shortly after his funeral, his mother was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer; she passed two months later.

Steve lacked any adequate words, “I...I'm so sorry, Jacob.”

Jacob deflated his lungs slowly, but then cracked a smile, “It wasn't all bad.” As Jacob sat next to his mothers hospital bed, her still warm hand in his, a young nurse's comforting hand found a place on his shoulder. “That's where I met Julia.”

The pair made their way through Jacob's following years. Julia and Jacob became good friends. She helped him through the grief and anger, the pleading and anguish. Through it all, they grew close, which eventually evolved into love.

“She was the only person I didn't feel anxious around. She calmed the static in my head. She made everything seem...okay.”

Jacob and Julia, lovingly called “JJ” by their friends, lived their lives as well as they could. They carved out a corner of the world all their own, and it was good.

“But eventually, the best laid plans of mice and men...”

Eleven years after Julia and Jacob first met, Julia was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Steve looked to Jacob to see tears running down his cheeks. “I was cursed, that had to be it,” Jacob whispered.

“I...” Steve began before he noticed a rapidly growing red spot on Jacob's shirt. His eyes widened in realization: blood.

“We fought it like hell,” Jacob continued. “Every treatment, every doctor we could afford, even some we couldn't. Cancer had taken enough from me, I wasn't going to let it take her too.” More red spots began appearing across Jacob's clothes as cuts started forming on his face. Steve suddenly realized he had lost track of their remaining time. He looked to his wrist watch, his heart sinking as he read: 000:00:07:18.

“We were driving back from yet another specialist. They echoed the same two words all the others had: six months. I was in a haze. Julia was talking to me about...options. And what to do with the time we had left. I didn't want to hear any of it. Whether out of desperation or blind hope, in that moment I reached out, pleading with who/whatever might be listening to save her, even if it meant I had to take her place...so I made a wish.”

Steve ran to Jacob, “Jacob, we're almost out of time, we need to...”, but was cut off as the room filled with the bright, round lights of a semi-truck. It barreled into and crumpled their car like tissue paper. Simultaneously, Jacob went flying across the room, smacking into the wall, and slumped into a crippled pile of bloodied flesh.

*****

The walls immediately go blank as they reach the end of Jacob's memories. In shock, Steve runs over to Jacob and checks him over: no pulse. He looks at his watch: 000:00:04:24. 'Damnit. They never trained us for this kind of contingency!' Steve pauses a moment, considering his options. 'Time to improvise I guess.' A heartbeat later, he rushes to the table.

He pulls up Julia's file and finds her health status:

TERMINAL BREAST CANCER

MORTALLY WOUNDED IN CAR CRASH

Steve notices her file has an active Request. Confused, he brings up the form to find it missing the same Request details as Jacobs'. 'What? But... how?' Pausing a breath, he realizes the only way to find out what really happened. He navigates to a page that lights the room in a blinking red. The screen reads:

PRIMARY FEEDS – TIER 1 RESTRICTED

Hesitating only a moment, he accesses the feeds, picking back up after the crash.

The car has flipped, with Jacob dangling from his car seat. Julia's bleeding profusely, reaching out to Jacob and screaming. “Jacob?! JACOB?! NO! Not you! It was supposed to be me, not you! NOT Y...” Julia coughs up a mouthful of blood as she closes her eyes, tears pouring down her forehead. “Please...someone...help...”, Julia whispers as she loses consciousness.

Steve sat, watching the scene, with words from his training echoing in his head: “Requests are not to be granted to deceased Applicants.” He'd always been a good worker: followed the rules, never tardy. But...these were unusual circumstances. He might lose his job as a result, but looking at Jacob and Julia's application forms on screen, and glancing at Jacob's bloodied body in the corner, he makes a decision.

000:00:00:38

He has to hurry. His ability to approve Requests would soon lapse. Steve pulls up the MIRACLE menu, and quickly works to submit both applications simultaneously.

000:00:00:16

He taps SUBMIT, and it begins processing.

000:00:00:08

...PROCESSING...

000:00:00:03

...PROCESSING...

000:00:00:01

MIRACLE APPROVED

*****

Steve sits at his desk, tapping away at his keyboard as he writes up an email to his supervisor. Trying to summarize the situation has proved...difficult. All Steve knows is that both Jacob and Julia, aka “JJ”, are recovering from moderate injuries sustained in the crash. Both of their Requests to sacrifice themselves for each other had been approved simultaneously, which seemed to cancel each other out, creating quite the miraculous situation. Julia's cancer has gone into full remission; the doctors can't find any trace she was even sick. Jacob, for the first time in a while, felt his anxiety melt away hearing the news. He has no memory of his time at the WMP Department. This made things simple (plus it was department policy). Finishing his email, he navigates to the subject line. Pausing a heartbeat thinking how to summarize the novel he just wrote, he begins typing:

RE: Extenuating Circumstances