Nara's Appointment

Nara was perched on a park bench, savoring the fine summer air, when the old man came into view. He was dressed in a grey suit, and, aside from a slight hobble, moved rather gracefully down the path. Humming contentedly to himself, the old man settled on a bench all the way across the playground, right in the center of a glorious patch of sunlight. 

A couple minutes passed. Nara quietly kept her eyes on the old man, who affectionately watched a group of children play from over his unfurled newspaper. It was a good day, a peaceful day. All week the weather had been horrible, and Nara had suffered endlessly under a grey and weeping sky. Traveling from appointment to appointment, clutching her little yellow umbrella and feeling constantly soggy, had been a complete nightmare. Now, however, the weather was brilliant. The sky was clear blue, and the clouds reminded her of fresh milk--creamy and frothing and cold. 

Yes, this was the perfect kind of day. 

With that in mind, Nara jumped from her seat. She dusted off her beloved corduroy trousers. She straightened her t-shirt. She double-checked the laces of her boots, double-knotted and pulled tight.  

With footsteps light as falling autumn leaves, she walked across the playground.

The old man seemed to be waiting for her. In fact, she knew that he was. He greeted her with a warm smile as she took a seat beside him. She dipped her chin in return. 

“Hello, Charlie,” said Nara. The name suited him, though she suspected it would suit most people over the age of fifty, and this man was certainly well into his seventies.

“You’re early,” Charlie told her. “By twelve minutes.”

Despite herself, Nara blushed. Being early was a habit of hers she’d never been able to break. She always got to school an hour early. She handed in projects a week before they were due. Her holiday shopping was always done at least two weeks in advance. She had a bit of an anxious, impatient spirit that led her to get things done fast, fast, fast. When it came to schoolwork, it was usually a good thing.

Unfortunately, in her line of work, being early was considered a bit of a faux pas.

If anything, people tended to appreciate lateness.

Checking the watch at her wrist, Nara saw that it was indeed much earlier than the agreed meeting time. She ran an anxious hand through her hair, and offered to give him a few more moments to himself. 

“No, no, that’s alright.” The old man’s skin crinkled in a jolly way around his eyes. “Although I wouldn’t mind a few minutes of good conversation.”

Good conversation? 

Nara looked around the park. Besides the children swinging across the monkey bars, there was no one else there.

Oh. Good conversation with her.

“That’s fine,” Nara said, and remained seated, though she didn’t quite believe that good conversation was one of her strong suits. 

The old man set down his newspaper and sighed a great sigh. Nara could practically see the fresh air and filtered sunlight swell in his ancient lungs. 

“I am very old,” the old man admitted, though Nara suspected it was more to himself than it was to her. “I have lived a long life.”

She couldn’t help but smiled a little. “Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He glanced at her. “Too long of a life?”

“No, not too long.” 

“Too short?”

Nara tucked her feet in front of her, hugging her knees close to her chest. “Just right.”

“Ah,” the old man said. “Not perfect, though. I should hope not perfect. I have many, many regrets.” There was a short, reminiscent pause. Nara was very used to these kinds of pauses, so she waited patiently for him to remember what he needed to. “When I was twelve, I stole a candy bar from the shop down the street from my home.”

“You returned it.”

 “When I was eighteen, I ran away from home and across the country, and only called my parents once a year after that.”

“Still, you made them proud. You became a surgeon. You saved countless lives.”

The old man studied Nara for a moment. 

“How do you know all this about me?”

“You told me,” she reminded him. “Last time.”

The old man nodded, silently remembering. Nara had visited him, just eight months ago. “My name is Kim Nara,” she’d announced after knocking on his door. She had explained who she was, what she was doing there. He’d asked for more time. She’d assumed he was simply afraid, but then he told her he just needed to sort out some affairs. 

Of course, he was also afraid. She knew that much. But nobody had ever cited sorting their affairs as a reason to delay their appointment with her, so she let it slide. 

Instead, that day he had told her about his life, about his regrets, about his achievements, and she had listened. 

Listening was her favorite part of the job. 

“You seem so young,” he told her now.

“I am young,” she admitted. 

“How do you know,” asked the old man, “if it is truly my time?” 

Nara thought for a moment. “Because you are old.” 

The old man could not argue with that, so he didn’t. Instead, he sat with her for a few minutes more, and he told her more about his life. She memorized as much as she could--first loves, favorite books, his greatest secrets. He described moments of ecstatic joy and deepest sorrows. The patients he’d lost, the lives he’d saved. Nara would record this all later, in the big journal she kept under her pillow. The journal she read and re-read every Saturday morning so that the memories would always occupy someone’s mind. 

Their time was coming to an end. 

“I know you said you can’t tell me, but… just give me a hint. Do an old man a favor, would you?”

He looked at her with wise earnesty, with cautious fear. Time seemed to cling to the corners of his eyes, weighing them down. 

Nara only shook her head. He was asking what was beyond this life, an unanswerable question. 

Truth be told, even she knew frighteningly few details. She was sometimes embarrassed by this fact, ashamed even. Every person she’d ever encountered on the job had asked her about what was ahead of them, and every time she hadn’t been able to give in answer. But people rarely found comfort in knowing that their guide was just as ignorant about their destination as they were. 

“You will just have to see for yourself,” Nara told him.

The old man shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

“It will be a new kind of life,” she offered. She was almost certain at least that much was true. 

She saw the fear soften. Nara was glad. The old man smiled, and stood, and dusted off his crisp suit. Nara stood, too. 

Side by side, they left the playground.