Her Last Day

Claire got off the roller coaster with a smirk and a huge pair of mouse ears on top of her head. This was her 14th time on this one ride alone. She took a yellow pill bottle out of her purse and swallowed a few pills.

“Are we going again, Grandma?” Steve asked.

“Okay, one more just for you,” replied Claire. She took his hand and back to the line they went. The wind blew gently over her face. Her short, grey hair got in her eyes. It stopped her dead in her tracks. The loud theme park was now as silent as prayer time at church. This was no ordinary wind. It was the type of wind that announced his presence.

Steve pulled at Claire’s arm as hard as he could. He was a little fireball with curly brown hair and too many freckles to count. He was Claire’s best friend since the moment she laid eyes on him.

“Come on, they’re going to skip us if we don’t hurry up,” Steve said.

“Aren’t you a little too short for roller coasters, anyway?” Claire replied with a smile.

“Not on my tippy toes, Grandma!”

She loved traveling with her grandbaby. Every time they go to the height inspection, she would cut off a concerned ride worker with her wonderful smile and they would have no choice but to let the kid pass. She would make him feel so proud that he was just tall enough, even though it was questionable at best.

This was their ritual every year since he was born. His birth just happened to coincide with her cancer diagnosis. Every year, they would tell her it would be her last, and yet, here she is, ready for another. She was ready for the chilling, time-stopping winds to start over.

Later that day, they arrived back at the hotel. Steve ran into the room first. As Claire walked into the room, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A cool breeze shot down her spine.

“Are you coming tonight? A stern voice called out to her. She looked over her shoulder with a smirk.

“Nope.”

Claire was met with a bear hug by her daughter. Anne was what one would call a mama’s girl. She would stop whatever she was doing on the drop a dime to be by her side. If Claire wanted to go fishing, that’s what they were doing that day. If she wanted to visit the pyramids of Egypt, Anne would find a painfully expensive way to do it. She was a fighter, much like her mom. She no longer cared about fashion or expensive things. Anne just did whatever she could to keep them together. She knew she was the third wheel and she was perfectly fine with that.

The room was painted in burnt orange and white, with paintings of birds and sunsets. Fake flowers filled dark spaces throughout. It could use a fresh coat of paint and some updated furniture but it was home for them for the weekend.

“I heard you two had a good time today,” Anne said.

She looked her mom in the eyes and gave her a hug even harder than the first one.

“Oh, Mom. Was it the voices again?”

“No, nothing like that. I just need to catch my breath is all.”

Anne turns her head to make sure Steve is not listening. He is watching a show on his tablet quietly. This is what Steve has always done while they have conversations he knows better than to listen to. However, he has always known that something isn’t right. He keeps an eye on them probably more than they do with him. He is the man of the house after all.

Steve’s father was never around. This made him a little awkward and a little untrustworthy of men. He never asks about him. He doesn’t expect a present for Christmas or even a phone call. Steve is always there for his family, even if they don’t notice.

“I know that look, Mom. Was he at the park?”

“Oh, honey. Please don’t worry about me. Let’s get ready to eat!”

Claire could tell who he was the moment he first appeared. At first, he was just a shadow, muttering the same four words over and over. As time slips away, he grows stronger, more daring. Even appearing as Anne’s father, Steven.

The three of them sat down for dinner. Room service brought in plates of piping hot food. Steve took it upon himself to get mashed potatoes all over his new clothes that were purchased on an already over-stretched credit card. Anne was smarter than that, but she couldn’t let him see his sick grandmother in old, torn-up clothing.

“Steven! I thought I to—”

Claire burst into laughter. “Let’s get you cleaned up,  young man,” she said with a smile.

“I really don’t like when you do that, you know that right?”

Claire and Steve walk off to the bathroom. She follows him with her assuring hands on his shoulders, waving goodbye to Anne.

“I know.”

Steve sits on the toilet as Claire wipes his face off with a towel. The mirror had a large crack down the center of it. The sink steadily dripped like a ticking clock.

“How on earth did you get it in your shoes too?” Claire asked.

Steve shrugs his shoulders and ran out of the bathroom. It was silly little moments like this that gave Claire the strength to continue year after year. One year,  they took her left breast. That alone could bring a person to their knees; but not Claire. No, she was far too stubborn for that. So, she let the doctors take both of her breasts and be done with it. She soldiered on in the way she always has.

All of those internal battles did take their toll, however, and there were plenty of casualties. She was determined to not let her family see her lose herself. She had bus pick-ups and graduations to attend to. She didn’t have time to die. The candle flame burned forever bright inside her, but it was running out of wax. Claire winces in pain, holding on to the sink for dear life. She takes a few more pills and walks back to the dining room. There he was, clear as day sitting next to Anne. The icy air stabbed through her chest like an ice pick. She did her best to ignore it.

He never looked angry, or menacing when he visited like they normally do in movies. Death couldn’t hurt anyone. He couldn’t make anyone suddenly die. He just knew when they were close and just waited patiently, asking the same question.

“Are you coming tonight?”

He allowed people the chance to die with dignity. Everyone has the chance to go when they’re ready. He didn’t mean to haunt Claire all these years, she just never dies. Her answers to his question vary based on her mood. Sometimes, when she’s in an awful mood, she yells things no one in her life has actually heard her say. But, most of the time, it’s a “nope” with her wonderful smile.

Claire laid down that night with her favorite fan. Little Steve was all tucked in and claiming ninety percent of the bed as usual. That’s the way Claire liked it. She could watch him and his little freckles sleep for hours when the pain was too bad to fall asleep herself. It was so bad that night, she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. She shot up out of bed grabbing for her pills. The bottle violently shook in her hands. Every last pill spilled onto the floor.

She drops to her knees to put them back in the bottle. Her eyes well up with tears. The bottle falls from her grasp. She wipes the blood off her lip from biting too hard.

“I’ll come with you tonight. I’m done. You’ve won,” she cried.

The room was quiet. The TV whispered in the background. Her fists clenched hard enough to draw blood as her nails cut into her palm.

“What are you waiting for? I said I’m ready. I know you’re there. This is what you wanted isn’t it?”

And just like that, Death appeared. This was a very special occasion. She never asked for him before. What audacity for a human to summon Death. No one gets to do that. No one except Claire that is. He even smiled, which he never does for anyone. He held out his hand and asked for what he’d hoped was one….final…time.

“Are you coming tonight?”

Claire reached her bloody, trembling hand out for him. She needed this. She always wanted her last day to be spent with her family. It was always meant to be this way. No one should ever have to die alone. She didn’t even have enough strength to move closer.

“Grandma? Are you okay?” Steve asked.

The young boy jumped off the bed and picked up every pill off of the floor and put them in the bottle. He gave her a hug and cried along with her. It turns out she still had her little soldier right there to fight by her side. Claire needed him now more than ever. She kisses his forehead as hard as she can.

“It’s okay, my love. Grandma is okay, I promise. Thank you for checking on me. We’re going to wake your mother up. Let’s get back to bed, shall we?” Claire asked.

Claire looked up with watery eyes, tired eyes. Death put his hand down by his side with a sigh. He hasn’t said anything other than those four words to anyone in over a thousand years. In all of his wisdom and power, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Um, you’re not coming tonight, are you?”

“Nope.”