Till Death do us part

No one ever told you loss would be easy. Most people obsess over death rather than focus on how to move on and accept the death of a loved one. Marcus was a man in denial. He had recently lost his father to cardiovascular disease, but struggled to accept his father’s death. He talked to his friends and colleagues about how one day he was going to walk down the aisle with a beautiful woman on his arm and make his dad proud. Marcus was a forty year old man who lived by himself in a small apartment that literally cramped his lifestyle as he had to sleep in a living room that felt more like a small nook in a master bedroom. He was trapped in a low wage job working as a county court clerk.

Marcus was a narcissistic college dropout with a sharp tongue and an abhorrence toward authority that led him to rub off badly with managers. While studying pre-law in college, he became a troublesome alcoholic and joined an off-campus fraternity where he made his first connection with an undergrad whose father was an accomplished attorney focused primarily on civil cases. Marcus was introduced to his first employer on his last day of classes his second year. Looking only to apply to a summer internship, he ended up staying at the firm for two years after he discovered that he flunked two of his classes and would have to take extensive summer school classes to move forward and graduate with his Bachelor’s of Science in Legal Studies.

This first, rudimentary job requiring legal analysis of cases and contacting the courts on behalf of the lawyers would lead him to multiple short-term jobs with various law firms that treated him like a loyal dog with no real prospects until he finally came into contact with the district attorney who relegated Marcus to ta job working for the county court. Being unable to ascend to attorney in a law firm due to his appalling lack of education, he wanted to try his luck working for the county and was awarded with a good raise.

It appeared during his time as a county court clerk that he was the only person happy for himself. His parents had all but abandoned him, focusing more on his brother and sister with their more promising careers. By the time his sister started a family, he had become largely dismissed, not being invited to parties and being discouraged from visiting his sister’s family. He sat by himself in his cheap studio apartment watching his siblings purchase large homes in affluent neighborhoods and rise the corporate ladder at work.

Just when Marcus thought life couldn’t get more depressing, his once spright father passed away. At the funeral, he had no part in the eulogy and could not hide his immense feelings of sadness as he embalmed his head in his hands, tears rolling from his rough cheeks down his stiff neck. He wanted to be a success in his father’s eyes, and felt that he never achieved it.

Over the course of the following year, he began socializing more and joining various clubs in an attempt to fill the emptiness that existed inside him.

One night he attended a social singles club that met in a brewery housed in a building that was made to look like a medieval castle, complete with thick walls with fortified battlements and turrets surrounded by a deep moat covered with dragonflies. Marcus saw a pale woman dressed in all black clutching a goblet filled with what looked like a Shirley Temple. She smiled at him eerily as he approached her at the bar.

“Hello, are you enjoying your night?” Marcus was never good at small talk.

Her brown eyes looked at him through her heavy black eyeliner. “Yes, it’s lovely. My name is Jill.” She reached out her ghostly white hand to shake his.

“Marcus.” He replied as he shook her hand.

“What brings you out on this cold night?” Jill asked him.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story.” Marcus began.

“Oh, I’m patient, I have nothing else to do tonight.”

“Single” He asked, wincing as she looked at him.

“You could say that.” She said.

Marcus took a deep breath. “I work at the county court as a court clerk. I have been a clerk for around 4 years. While I do enjoy diving into cases, I really wanted to finish law school and become a high powered attorney. You see, I can’t stand seeing people getting away with crimes. I feel like people should be responsible for everything that they do.”

He took a swig of his scotch. The girl was looking at him strangely, and it made him feel uncomfortable. He continued.

“I feel like you should live the best life you can. I mean, it’s not over until the fat lady sings, and there is no sense of giving up until you have to.”

“I totally understand what you’re saying.” Replied Jill. “It is important to stay the course, play it out, to the end.”

“Yes. And I still want to be that man. I just have no way to become him. I used to look up to my parents for inspiration. But just recently, my father passed away, and it just hasn’t been the same.”

Jill looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “There there. It is just the course of life.”

“I know, but it’s just not fair. I didn’t want him to see me like this.”

Jill looked at the oversized college dropout thoughtfully. “I belong to a group of people who practice the dark arts. We might be able to help you.” She passed him her card. On it said “Soothsayers Alliance”, and under it read Jill’s name and her position. You should drop by sometime. We meet on Fridays. Hope to see you there.” She parted her hair with her left hand, winked at him and left.

Dumbfounded, he stared at the card, speechless. He turned around. “But where do you meet? What did you mean…” But she was gone. There was no one in the room,

He turned the card over. In dried blood read the location: 123 Deadly Hollows Ln. Esperia. It was one city over, but he had nothing to lose. He needed a change.

The following Friday night he wound up in front of a tudor house on a street lined with houses with cracked windows, cobwebs and broken shutters. He knocked on the door and was immediately led in by a man in black with a scythe in his hands.

The group sat in a circle on a carpet that showed all of the constellations corresponding to the star signs. He saw Jill and greeted her. She looked neither happy nor sad that he came, only looked like a ghost contemplating its existence.

“Greetings, brethrens.” A man wearing a black sweater with a skull in the back entered the middle of the circle. “We are the Soothsayers. For those that are new, we are a cult that speaks to the dead. We believe that the dead still walk among us, and need us now more that ever, to carry out their legacy.” He took out a landlined phone connected to the floor. “This is the phone that we use.”

Everyone’s eyes were on Marcus. He was nervous as he gripped the phone in his right hand. A sudden heat was felt from his hand as if he was touching a hot kettle on a stove with the burner turned on. It soon subsided. The leader looked at him keenly. “Who do you want to speak with?”

Marcus nervously fidgeted with his zipper on his sweater. “Um, my dad please.”

The man in front of him wore a grimace on his face. “Typical”, he said, then closed his eyes and mumbled some words under his breath. The phone immediately lit up and a vibrant energy pulsated throughout Marcus’s body. A dial tone could be heard from the receiver. Marcus brought the phone to his ear.

“He-hello?” A husky voice could be heard from the other line. It was his father’s voice.

“Dad, is that you?”

“Yes it is my son. It is so nice to hear your voice. It is so lonely down here. I miss you so much.”

“I do too. I just wish you were still here. I need you more than ever. I want to go back to school, but I know I can’t. I just don’t have the money. I need your help. Please help.” Marcus whimpered over the phone.

“Son, I love you so much. You were always important to me, even if I didn’t have the strength to tell you. I know you can do it. There are still people on Earth who love you and need you. Life is for the living, not for the dead. It is what you need to focus on now. Do not worry about the dead while you are still alive. Just trust that you will find a way.”

“Okay, dad. I will make you proud.”

“I know you will. Take care and remember you will always be my son.”

He put the phone down on the stand and fell back into the shadows.

The night ensued with spiritual cantations and mythical tarot card reading. All the while, a mist slowly spread all around the room, making the figures seem nearly transparent. At the tarot card reading, the gypsy woman who gave the readings wore a fedora and had a necklace of bones. For a second, Marcus thought she looked like that woman from the news who died from a heroin overdose who was a well known psychic. He shook his head. The mist was playing tricks on him.

Marcus felt a wind sweep his hair behind him. Jill had her arm on his shoulder. She looked at him intensely.

“These are for the people who have already been initiated. You have yet to become a formal member. Only on a full moon can a mortal become a member of the club.” She whispered to him.

The readings being given were mostly about how the person had lived a life of deception and how many days they have left to repent, and what deeds need to be done to offset the wrongdoing. The gypsy’s grave voice unnerved Marcus. Why were these readings being taken so seriously?

The clock chimed 11PM, and the meeting adjourned. Farewells were given, and the group split. Marcus needed to relieve himself, and found a bathroom along the hallway adjacent to the living room. As he left the bathroom, he saw a man at the window at the far end of the hall. He walked over to the window and opened it.

“You shouldn’t be here, it isn’t safe.” The man with dark bushy eyebrows and blonde hair said.

“What do you mean?”

The man produced a dagger from his hilt. “Here, you will need this. It slays any and all spirits in its way.” With that, the mysterious man disappeared into the night.

The following Friday, Marcus came back to become a full-fledged member. He kept his dagger in his belt loop.

“So, are you ready to become a member of the group?” the leader bellowed.

“Yes.” Marcus replied.

A roaring flame was created in the hearth in the house. "You must now step in the flames and relinquish your life." He cackled.

"Never!" Marcus yelled, pulling out his dagger. The blade cut through the dead spirits as he pulled himself from their grasp. The fire became a serpeant rushing toward him.

He opened the door and stepped into the sunshine, and closed it forever.