Second Chances

Nursing is a difficult profession. There’s the long hours, the low pay, having to cope with doctors, never being able to find a doctor and the general layer of mystery fluids that would harden on your skin throughout the shift. Yes, there are many challenges nurses must push through, but for Amanda, the hardest was watching a patient die alone. It was especially sad when the patient had been kind. A genuinely good person, who despite their illnesses could enrich the lives of the staff that cared for them. However, this was definitely not the case with Mr Samuel Hitch. From before his diagnosis to the moments of his death, nothing had been good enough for him. The pillows had been too hard, the new ones too soft. The female doctors were unable to find the right vein. The food was bland, but not served nearly frequently enough. There were too many foreigners. The staff nannied him too much, he’d grown up during the war after all, he didn’t need assistance walking to the toilet, but then he would lament over where his taxes had gone because no-one in the building had the time to help a poor old man. 

Amanda worked in oncology, so she had been there since the beginning. Over time, despite his foibles, they’d formed a good relationship, one that consisted mostly of bickering. Samuel seemed to like this, she assumed that had been what he was used to. In the course of the six months he had been with the department he’d had no visitors. No-one had come with him to appointments, and when he’d finally deteriorated and she’d hoped to contact anyone on his behalf, he’d given a resounding “no”. Even when they don’t light up the ward, it’s still sad to see them head into the great unknown alone. To know their goodbyes fall on deaf ears. Amanda, the only witness to his death, had silently whispered “rest in peace” as she’d left the room moments after he had. 

It’s funny, the adages human’s use. They’re such a creative bunch. Such a fearful bunch. “Rest in peace”, I suppose it makes sense if you're human. After all, a dead body does look like someone sleeping. However, I can tell you this for certain, Mr Samuel Hitch’s rest was not peaceful, and it couldn’t really be called rest…

The old man tried to open his eyes, but the light around him was so bright that it burned his retinas. Finally, when he’d gotten a hold of himself he tried once again to take the room in, but there appeared to be nothing in front of him other than a white haze. Then a voice came down from above. It rumbled through the room as thunder in a cloud, deep and electric. It roared: “Angels and Demons...Welcome to the 7,596th season of Purgatory: Second Chances!!!”, to tremendous applause. It was then that Samuel realised he was standing in front of studio lights, he started to make out silhouettes behind them. Many had what looked like wings but the rest were something else entirely. Somehow blacker than silhouettes could be, and although their shapes were less defined they were definitely flickering. The voice continued, “each episode contestants are offered a do-over. They must determine which choices to re-evaluate and which actions to undo for the chance to secure their eternity.” The crowd fell silent, “will their choices lead to salvation?” he teased “or will they be sent to the eternal fires of damnation! I am your host Gabriel, let the games begin!” as the lights dimmed the audience rose to their feet in a frenzy. 

Samuel was very confused at this point, you see he’d never owned a TV much less auditioned to be on one. Never-the-less he remained where he stood, “it’s better the devil you know” he had reasoned. Once again, humans and their wonderfully oblivious adages.

Finally, the man who had been speaking, who Samuel would demand answers from came into view; alongside several other humans. Evidently, Samuel was not the only contestant. Gabriel was now introducing each in turn with a rhyming diddy about their lives. He was a tall man, even in Samuel’s prime he would have towered over him, and impeccably dressed in a velvet tux. Samuel noticed that after giving each contestant a crushing embrace, he would turn to the audience, flip his hair and smile. That whiteness of his smile was sharp enough to slay, and given the frequent outbursts of “WE LOVE YOU GABRIEL”, it clearly worked. “Hogwash to it all” scowled Samuel as Gabriel failed to pull him into a squeeze. Even though he put his full weight into the shove the host did not lose his composure. He did, however, shoot the old man an infuriated look over his shoulder. His eyes were golden. His pupil's black slits scorched upon them. It made Samuel feel like a baby bird, weak on its wings, watching a hawk circle over his head. He wanted to call out for help, but there was no-one for Samuel to cry out to. 

Content that the rowdier of his contestants had been put in his place (“there’s one every season” Gabriel insisted to hearty laughter from the crowd) Gabriel began announcing this season’s guardian angels. The first few to parade onto the stage were met with a wall of whistles and applause, however as the line grew the applause began to die until the last one to enter the stage was met with a cricket’s chirp. That was of course until she fell over the hem of her tunic, much to the delight of the audience. Although Samuel didn’t know much right now, he knew enough to know that the last of the golden-eyed figures did not belong on the stage. Where the Roman style tunics clinched at the others curves and muscles, on her it hung like a potato sack. “All in all”, Samuel thought “she was definitely the runt”. 

“Now, it’s time for each of you to select your guardian angel,” boomed the host. “Remember they may not give you the answer you seek but they may guide you to the questions you should be asking. You will pick in the order at which you arrived”.

One by one they went along the line of contestants, every time it looked like it was about to be Samuel’s turn Gabriel would skip over him until finally, he stood alone on stage with the runt. 

“And it looks like Samuel’s guardian will be our newest member from the academy Felicia”

“It’s Felicity” she corrected him, still pink from her brush with the floor.

“Felicity”, he corrected himself, without breaking his smile. 

By the time they were hurried to the back of the stage Samuel's patience had all but ran out. Especially now that he had to contend with a giddy woman. “My name’s Felicity” she gushed, “it’s been my dream ever since I was young to be a Guardian Angel since before I got my wings. I love this show” she squealed. “Sorry. Back to you. I understand you must be feeling overwhelmed right now, but I just want you to know, I’m going to be with you every step of the way. I know together we can-”

“We can what exactly?” he finally snapped. “Just who do you think you are? Samuel!? Are we related?! I think not! That’s Mr Hitch to you, and for that matter who does shiny teeth over there think he is? What in the blazes is going on?! I didn’t ask for any of this nonsense. Now I demand that you take me back to my hospital ward, NOW!” 

Felicity was dumbstruck, and the look of her blank face only fuelled his rage. Finally, realisation dawned. She took a deep breath, this was going to be hard, “Mr Hitch...you're dead. This is purgatory”, Felicity looked at him, a wave of concern on her face.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered “even in the afterlife I pick last” and with that, he stormed off in the direction of the other contestants. He had once again succeeded in causing the angel to be dumbfounded. Whilst she’d been confused to find out that Samuel hadn’t realised he was dead, she’d understood his reaction. This response however was something she couldn’t account for. Clearly, there was a lot more to humans than the academy had let on. By the time she’d come to her senses, Samuel had walked through the white haze. He had been unperturbed by the existential crisis he’d given his guardian angel, instead, he walked on, ready to get this whole thing over and done with. He stepped through the clearing in the haze and the ground vanished beneath his feet. He was falling. Falling with no end in sight. His only company was the words that had followed him down, a song that had burst from the haze like laughter:

They come here to see their lives as choices,

Can they run from what must be avoided?

We warn you to heed your angel’s advice,

Tis not often Fortune’s wheel turns twice.

They landed in the ’70s, Samuel recognised the avocado coloured kitchen instantly. This was the day his life could have been remade. “Is that your family?” Felicity cooed. Shaggy black-heads were dangling off the edge of the beanbags in front of the TV. It took a second for him to realise who they were, “Abigail and Toby” he said slowly, as though he were savouring the words. “Come on then,” he called back to Felicity, who was still admiring his children. “This is it,” he announced proudly.

“This is what”, the angel searched hurriedly.

“The choice I should have made.”

“That’s a telephone,” she said, getting more confused by the second. 

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “In five minutes I will be getting a telephone call from the Specter and Wright. Soon they will call offering me the position of account manager. My-” while Samuel was not usually one to think before he spoke, he wasn’t sure what would happen if you swore in front of an angel. “My wife” the word curdled in his mouth “made me turn it down. Some rubbish about not having any time to spend with my family. Not that it mattered, took the kids and left me a year later”. 

“Mr Hitch, I really don’t think-”

“Don’t think that a £60,000.00+ salary will change my life immensely? I suspect angel’s don’t have money do they?” he looked at her with growing distaste.

“Well no-”

“Then are you really qualified to give me your opinion?”

“Mr Hitch, I’ve watched every episode of this show and this” she indicated to the phone “is never the answer. You’ve been given a second chance at life, don’t waste it.” She tried desperately to implore him, but his mind was already made up.

“I have lived this life for 88 long years. This is your first day-.” 

Just then the phone began to ring, but before Felicity could argue Samuel had snatched the phone and was pacing out of her reach. 

Within a second they were back in the white haze, standing in front of a giant spinning wheel. Gabriel spoke, “Samuel, you spent your second chance reclaiming a job opportunity, but what kind of eternity will that earn you. Angels and demons, it’s time to spin the wheel.” The audience was on their feet desperate for a glance. Round and round the wheel turned. First on a gold segment and then on a black, and so on and so forth until finally, it inched its way. It was on the gold, then it was on the black. Many audible “Ooh’s” left the audience, and Samuel who had initially paid no attention to the wheel was starting to feel fearful. 

“Well I am sorry,” announced Gabriel “but it may console you to know that because of your decision you will be buried in a coffin with a golden plaque. Anyway, that concludes-”

“I use my lifeline!” roared Felicity. Samuel had no idea what she had just said, but the audience's gasps held his intrigue. “Angels and Demons, we have our first lifeline of the season. For unseasoned viewers, each of our guardians is given one lifeline, which may be used at any time during the season. Think of it as a shot at a second second chance” he flashed his teeth and the tension erupted in cheers. 

As soon as they were alone, Samuel turned on Felicity. “Why would you waste your lifeline like that? I did all I could before and nothing changed” he roared a mixture of incredulity and anger. There were many moments in Samuel’s life where his petty outbursts and snarky remarks had driven the people around him to explode back. Samuel relished these moments, bitterness was all he understood. This should have been another such moment, but it wasn’t. Instead, Felicity took a step towards him.

“Mr Hitch do you know why you're here?”

“Because doctors haven’t been forced to pull their fingers out and find the cure to cancer” he spat.

The angel shook her head, “you're here because at the moment of your death you regretted something sincerely. I believe that some people just need someone to believe in them. The reason I wasted my lifeline on you, is because I believe in you. We’re about to go back. Before we do”, she implored, “think back to that moment. Think back to what it was you regretted because I doubt it was the absence of a golden plaque.” 

For once the man who had an answer for everything was silent. His head was no longer raised high above the crowd but was now pointed at his shuffling feet. “I’ve got it”, he replied quietly and once again the floor disappeared.

This time they landed six months into the past. The angel and Samuel stood in a dusty hallway, bundles of newspaper’s stacked high against the walls on each side. “When the doctor gave me my diagnosis he said that I had six months to live, but that with treatment there was a chance I could beat it” he explained, slowly limping towards the telephone stand. “I figured, a war and two recessions, how can my own cells turn round and kill me now?” he let out a curt laugh.

Felicity gave him a reassuring smile. 

He cleared his voice and picked up the phone. “Damn voicemail!” he yelled, “what do I do now?” Panic was seeping in at his voice. This was already his second second chance, he knew there was no third. 

“Leave a message.”

“Fine”, he cleared his voice “Hi Abigail, it’s me...your father….-”

“Go on!” she whispered. 

“I erm, I know it’s been a while and I know I wasn’t really there for you or your er brother, and I really regret that. The thing is…” he had already gone through the gruelling treatment, he was already dead but somehow it was now that he choked on the words. “I have cancer. The prognosis isn’t good. Look maybe you won’t care but I just, I’m tired of living with regrets you know. Anyway, you can just call me back on this number when you’re free. It’s dad by the way.”

Suddenly the room tilted sideways, beams of white light cut into it as though it were nothing but a picture. Samuel held onto Felicity’s shoulders, focusing on the centre of her face to stop himself from getting dizzy. “You did fantastically Mr Hitch” she beamed. 

“Please, call me Samuel” he gave a meek smile back and for the third time, in who knows how many hours, the floor dropped from beneath him.

The day Samuel Hitch died, had in his opinion, not been a sad one. The last thing he saw was his children and grandchildren all around him. In many ways, his terminal diagnosis had given him his life back. He, his daughter and his son had begun speaking for the first time in decades. He’d been able to meet his two beautiful granddaughters and he was confident that they would have fun, albeit fleeting memories of him. It wasn’t just the wounds of the past he had begun to erode, but his family was a rock he could depend upon during treatment. They held his hands when the doctors struggled to find the right vein. When the chemo had made him nauseous they had stocked his cupboard with ginger cookies. And on the days that seemed most dark, they brought their own lights.  

Amanda worked in oncology. She had known Samuel since the beginning. Nurses must face many challenges, but it was seeing families like Samuel’s and the resilience and love they could give (particularly to people like Samuel) that were the parts she enjoyed most. Still, it was never easy to watch them pass, even if it meant their pain had finally stopped.

That day she’d left his room bleary-eyed, practically stumbling into another one of the nurses, who shot her a concerned look. Amanda simply shrugged. “No matter how much death I see, it never gets any easier” she confided in the stranger. She assumed she was new, for she had not seen her on the ward before. “I know exactly what you mean,” said the nurse, “but he has his family with him”. She smiled. It was a comforting smile, made all the more so by the glint of her golden eyes. Amanda made a mental note to ask her later where she’d gotten her contacts from. “I can make the arrangements for Mr Hitch”, the nurse continued.

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course, go fetch yourself a cup of tea”, her smile was so enchanting Amanda left without another word. 

“I knew you’d make the right choice. Now Samuel,” the memory brought a smile to the angel’s face, “you may rest in peace.”

And he did.