The Revenant

First came the drowsy thoughts. I felt like my grandfather on the rare occasions where he'd stop watching Jeopardy and would help me with my math homework. That is to say, I was beyond bewildered, eager to hit someone and quite ready to go to sleep, no matter what the time was. What was the time anyway?

And, again, like my old papa, every part of my body felt like it had been run over by a monster truck. I tried to stretch, then bumped my head and cursed. What kind of uncomfortable bed was I in, anyway? It felt like I was sleeping on wood!

Oh. I had been, in fact, sleeping on wood. Actually, sleeping would've been a stretch. Having felt around me with my bony hands, I realized that I was in a coffin. A dark, wooden coffin. And I smelled horrible.

I tried to remember how I got in this mess, but my god, my head hurt so bad. I felt like I had blacked out on moonshine, then decided to donate all my blood during the hangover.

And the heat! I was getting the unsettling impression that I was a decomposing corpse, and the heat was doing me absolutely no favors. I mean, would it have killed them to turn on the A/C?

I'll admit, I wasn't thinking very straight. You wouldn't be either, if most of your brain was missing. All I knew at this time was that I wanted a glass of water, and maybe to speak to a manager. So I started banging on the coffin, and a few of my fingers fell off in the process.

I pressed my (barely functional) ear against the wood, and heard some whispers from outside. I could make out "...Why is he moving already..." and "...Was planned for later..." and finally "Screw this."

Finally, my hand broke through the wood, driving splinters straight into me. I could hardly feel a thing, but some sunlight did sprinkle in through the hole in the coffin. This might sound encouraging, but it really felt more like waking up from a nap and having a flashlight shined straight into my eyes.

Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to be getting back to sleep anyway, so I kept clawing my way through, until I'd broken off enough pieces bit by bit to climb out of the coffin. I looked around, and saw I was in the middle of a field, on a hot summer day. Off in the distance, two bodies were sprinting away like their lives depended on it. I tried to wave to them, but it felt like my arm was about to fall off, so I settled for a head nod instead. There was an unpleasant snap during this head nod, like I was a broken bobblehead.

After readjusting my head, and attempting to blink a few times just to feel normal, I wondered if I would be able to run, just like the other two people who were now far out of sight.

I tried, and failed, crashing down onto the grass, looking like one of those inflatable tube men you see at car dealerships who flail their lanky arms through the air, except instead of looking colorful and happy, I probably looked hideously disfigured and more grayish. But I kept practicing until I graduated from acting like a drunk on roller skates to a regular blackout drunk, then finally to acting like a man who was a little tipsy, but was assuring his friends that he could still walk... barely. By the time I had almost mastered walking, I felt much too tired to run, and sat flat on the grass like a big baby, playing with nearby dandelions. I really tried not to eat them, but I did. It really sucks not being able to sweat, but thankfully, things were starting to cool down a bit. It was evening, and the sun was starting to set. I seemed to have a lot in common with babies and old people on this particular day, because like members of both parties, I had no intentions of going to sleep at a normal time, if at all. I had no way of knowing, but I sure felt like I'd had years of sleep already, and that yogurt would do much more for my health (and sanity) at this point.

And so I was just (somewhat) existing, my mind straining to have any real thoughts at all, until a figure started to block the light in front of me. This was a tall man in a suit, like me, but looking much more sharp and less... stained. He looked awfully composed, almost as if he wasn't talking to a walking corpse that could barely keep its tongue in its mouth. I thought, am I a zombie? Am I going to try and eat his brains? But no, I definitely wasn't that hungry. A burger would've sounded a lot better. I could've used some brains, to be sure. Just, nowhere near my stomach.

Anyway, I was basically waiting for the man to make the first move, since it wasn't exactly like I had much to say to him. I stared blankly at him, and finally, he spoke.

"I'm sure you have some questions..."

I really didn't.

"But this will all be explained soon enough."

Oh lord.

"For now, just follow me."

Like an overweight dad getting off his porch to play hide-and-seek with his kids, I was straining awfully hard to do something I really didn't want to do. But what better chance did I have at maybe, just maybe, scoring a cold glass of beer, other than following this tall, dark and weird fellow around? What's the worst that could happen, he stabs me in an alleyway? He'd practically be doing me a favor.

So I drudged through the field for a while, making my way through shade and trees, until finally the strange man brought me to shack that looked almost as gross as I did. He ushered me inside into a living room, and I sat down, my bones and the chair creaking in unison.

The man sat down next to me at an old table, and I was finally able to get a better look at his face with a lamp nearby. He was wearing a fedora, and didn't look right at me, but just paused for a while, pursing his lips. After puking in a bucket, he wiped his face, sat back down, then said, feverishly,

"I was gonna give you a whole complex backstory, but this is just disgusting and I'm not even totally sure you speak English."

Phew.

"So basically, this is some real classified Men in Black stuff."

Of course.

"We were trying to raise people from the dead, we uh... just didn't think it would actually work. At least not like, this fast."

I tried to say something like, "You underestimate me, Bond," but I just coughed up a few roaches. The man flinched, then continued:

"We were kinda hoping you'd be more like a supersoldier, but uh, no."

I tried to salute and my arm really did fall off this time.

"So look, we're gonna have a change in plans. We could just whack you, but I don't want you coming back and suing us."

Damnit.

"So we're gonna try and reintegrate you..."

No No NO.

"Into society, as a functioning, semi-normal human being."

I could barely keep my liver from falling into my butt, let alone "function" in society. Hell, I could barely do it before I had unintentionally set the world record for longest human hibernation. I tried to protest, but I felt a lot like a person honking their horn in traffic, or someone trying to receive customer service at the DMV. My fate was set in stone. Jeez, was it so much to ask for a corpse to find peace?

After listening to... well, nothing intelligible, the secret agent man decided it was time to teach me how to speak properly. This took a few hours and a few jaw realignments and a few hurt feelings, after I told the agent in many different ways to go to hell. After we moved past that phase in my afterlife, I learned how to walk and talk and do all the baby crap I already learned how to do years (or centuries?) ago. Then, I had a lovely meal at Paris' finest outdoor restaurant, where I enjoyed wine, accordion music, and the most mouth-wateringly delicious pasta I'd ever had.

I had beans. Technically pork and beans, but there was like, one shred of pork. Like a needle in a haystack, that stuff.

So after my death row meal, I took a nice, disgusting bath and then my favorite serious spy picked out a new suit for me. I went to bed, but sleeping was about as much a possibility for me as suddenly reuniting with my ex-wife. Thankfully, I wasn't alone, cause Federal Frank didn't catch a wink, either.

It was morning, and the sun was shining just a little brighter than my smile. Get it? Cause my teeth were black. I'm here all night, folks.

What's-his-name clearly never signed up to be a babysitter, and had done just a little more than he'd felt like doing for me, which really would've been nothing at all. But when he opened the door, he gave me a grimace and a little thumbs up, as if to say, "Better-than-bad luck!" Almost as if I wouldn't just walk straight into traffic the first chance I got.

But when I stepped out the door, I paused, and something felt different. It was kinda like back when I was playing with the dandelions. I looked at the sunny sky, and I couldn't quite feel the light, but could see it spreading across my skin. Around then I realized I was taking in the same, gorgeous view I would've had when I was more alive than I was now. So, what was life, anyway? Was I really any more dead than anyone else, just cause I had to blink a little more to keep my eyes from falling out, and beans were falling out of my chest? Don't answer that. The point was, maybe I was just a revenant, but nothing could stop me from being a happy one. But all that philosophical crap was besides the point. It was summer, and that meant it was time to party, and this cold one needed a cold one.

Yikes, I really should just head back to the grave after that one. More like rev-a-NOT!

Ok fine we're done here.