The Story You Already Know the End To

Mr. Finley lived the kind of story where you already knew how it would end. The story you might find collecting dust on the shelf. The story that you’ve read a million times and the ending just doesn’t wow you like it did on the first reading.

Mr. Finley was brought up in a middle-class family along with a few other siblings before and after him. His parents had met in college and decided that they would spend their lives together, settled down in a suburb where they would raise their kids and send them to a nice school. And so Mr. Finley went through school in this nice suburban area, where he made lots of friends, got involved in all sorts of things that I’m sure he enjoyed, and did things that would help make him the person he would become down the line, etc, etc, etc. With money from his job at a grocery store and a small (possibly large) donation from his parents, he could pay for a fairly nice college. He said goodbye to his high school friends and that they would “keep in touch”, then headed off for the next chapter in this book you already know the end to. While studying to get a degree in a career, he met a very nice girl who understood him and made him feel good about himself. She seemed to laugh at his jokes, so he figured he should tie the knot. After graduating with distinctions in a career, he and his spouse headed off for their adventures in a suburb to raise up kids and send them to a nice school. Mr. Finley found satisfaction in the identity received from his very important career, as well as watching his children grow up to become little-Mr. Finley’s. Every now and then he would have time to enjoy himself, catch up with friends, and do generous things for others. A hop and a skip away came his retirement, where he spent his old age watching TV with Mrs. Finley. Not long after came his peaceful death, surrounded by the relatively successful Finley Children. And that’s the story.

THE END

“Oh no,” said Mr. Finley, “This can’t be.”

“I don’t understand,” said the angel, “You lived a long and happy life.”

Mr. Finley looked over at the pearly gates, glittering, beckoning with open arms for him to join the feast. He looked back down at his book of life that he was holding in his hands. He kicked a clump of nearby clouds.

“You did everything right,” said the angel, clothed in glowing white robes, “You did everything you were supposed to.”

“I did everything by the book,” said Mr. Finley, “I played the whole thing safe.”

“And that is a problem?” asked the angel, perplexed.

“The story is so boring and meaningless,” Mr. Finley said in frustration, “There are no twists, no complex plot devices. It’s just like everyone else’s. I want a new one.”

“Instead of joining the feast,” the angel clarified, “You would rather... try again?”

“Give me a whole new story,” said the man, “One that’s exciting. One where I live a hard and tumultuous life. Only then will I be proud of my story.”

So the angel gave Mr. Finley a new story…

 ***

Mr. Finley lived a hard and tumultuous story. He was born in the wrong part of town and was raised in poverty. His father had left long before he was born, and he practically had to fend for himself as soon as he could stand on his own two feet. An education was out of the question. All that mattered was finding the next meal and a place to stay the night. Many people pitied him, but were too caught up in writing their own stories to do anything about it. There was no peace to be found for Mr. Finley, no matter how hard he searched down every trashed street corner. Instead he turned to the closest thing he could find: drugs. He started off with the weak stuff, but the harder it became to distract himself, the harder he made the stimulant. He couldn’t make ends meet to provide for his addiction, so crime seemed to be the only solution. Eventually after diving in too deep for too long, Mr. Finley was shot. And that’s the story.

THE END

“Oh no,” said Mr. Finley, “This can’t be.”

“I don’t understand,” said the angel, “You said you wanted a sad story.”

“Yes, but this is too sad,” said the man, looking miserably at his book of life, “There’s no happy ending, and there always needs to be a happy ending. Give me another try. This time, give me an exciting life, full of wealth and fame. Only then will I be proud of my story.”

So the angel gave Mr. Finley a new story…

***

            Mr. Finley lived a highly successful story, full of wealth and fame. He started out with an average life, but as a young man was discovered for the amazing talent he possessed. Utilizing this “amazing talent”, he could live lavishly and travel the world. Everywhere he went, his name was known. So often Mr. Finley was asked for his picture, his autograph, etc, etc, etc. He had the story that everyone else only dreamed they could have. However, Mr. Finley also dreamed he could have the story that he apparently had. Or at least that’s what he thought when his wife left him and he realized any real friends were hard for him to come by. He tried to mask this lack of love behind all his planes, mansions, and yachts, but he still couldn’t help but notice that all his accessories were empty of any real meaning or sincere friends. His own talent soon felt aimless without the real affection of anyone who cared for him. He went into old age a cold and bitter man. When Mr. Finley died, he was remembered as an extraordinary man, but nothing more than a face at a museum that people could identify. And that’s the story.

THE END

            “Oh no,” said Mr. Finley, “This can’t be.”

            “I don’t understand,” said the angel, exasperated, “You lived the life you wanted to live. You were rich and remembered.”

            Mr. Finley looked down again at his book of life.

            “That is true,” said Mr. Finley, “But I would take back all the money and fame, if it means that I can be surrounded by friends and family who love me. Even if it’s by the book.”

            The angel nodded with a knowing smile.

“I believe I know what you want,” the angel said, “Rewrite your book of life one last time.”

“I am ready,” the man said, “To write a story I am proud of.”

So the angel gave Mr. Finley a new story…

***

Mr. Finley was brought up in a middle-class family along with a few other siblings before and after him. He lived the same life that most people in his situation would live. He got a job, he got married, he had kids. The makings of a boring story. This time though, things were a little different. Not a lot, but some. Every now and then, he would take some risks here and there. He did things he enjoyed, but also tried new things. The biggest difference though, might’ve been how he viewed his own story that he was writing.

“Do you ever wonder…?” Mrs. Finley asked Mr. Finley. They were curled up under a blanket on the couch watching TV.

Mr. Finley squeezed her shoulder. “Wonder what?”

“If there's something you would've done differently. Any other life you would've wanted to live…”

Mr. Finley thought about it for a moment. “I don't think so,” he said, “This life has suited me. Why would I want anything else?” The couple smiled and held each other close.

“Do you ever wonder…?” Asked a Finley junior timidly. He was standing at the door to Mr. Finley’s study, where Mr. Finley was found deeply engrossed in a large painting in front of him. 

Mr. Finley kept his eyes trained on the canvas. “Wonder what, junior?”

Little Finley stepped a bit closer, carefully calculating what to say next. “If I’m going to be special someday?” He looked down and shuffled his feet. “...Like you, dad.”

Mr. Finley took his eyes off the canvas and set down his paintbrush. He kneeled down in front of junior and lifted his chin. “You’re already special, son,” he said, “you just need to start acting like it.” With tears brimming in his eyes, Finley junior held his father tight.

Mr. Finley laughed at jokes a little harder, cared for his passions a little stronger, and held on to the ones he loved a little tighter. He seemed to enjoy the journey a tad more. Something must’ve helped him realize that it’s not always about the story you read, but the vigor in which you read it.

So Mr. Finley’s story ended, exactly how you knew it would.

THE END