Centurion

I can say without doubt that I hate Mondays.

It’s not a stereotypical sort of thing, like the drivel on tee shirts or coffee mugs. I don’t like them because every Monday I have to decide who dies that week.

None of them are family or lifelong friends or even close personal acquaintances. I don’t like it because with the loss of another, we lose a little more of what we were. And if we’re supposed to learn from history, then every Monday we become a little dumber.

But this Monday is particularly cruel because not only is he an acquaintance I’ve come to respect and even admire, but he’s the last one who was in The Great War. And once he’s gone, his memories and wisdom be lost to the wind like dandelions on a summer day.

And what’s worse, not only do I have to decide this one, I have to perform the euthanization.

I’m the executioner.

He’s kept in a separate room in a separate wing. They tell me it’s for his comfort but I’m certain it’s so the others don’t see what euthanasia looks like. Somehow, the ignorance of it makes it acceptable, another ‘procedure’ performed. Sterilized and objectified, it becomes a statistic instead of a life. But that’s only my opinion.

I make the walk down to the South Wing, my mind twisted in knots. The rest of the staff dart down the tiled fluorescent halls like caffeinated drones, but I trudge in a failing attempt to control the building nausea inside my gut. I never know what to say to them, but this is going to be that much worse.

Today, I get to inform my friend Alfred he has a week to live.

Before I know it, I’m at his room. It’s enormous, forty feet square with a two story tall ceiling. I enter and greet him.

“Hello, Alfred. How are you doing today?”

Alfred chimes right in, wasting no time in getting to the point.

“It’s my turn, ain’t it?”

His question stops me right in my tracks. I take a deep breath, and compose my speech.

“Ah, actually, yes. It is.”

His response floors me.

“Thank God!” 

I have no idea how to process it. Most of the responses I get range from sad to terrified, some crying and panting. But not this. Joy is a new one, and I can’t process it. Alfred sees my confusion and chuckles.

“Wasn’t expecting that one, was you kiddo?”

“No.”

Once the echo dies, Alfred sighs.

“You don’t understand that it’s like to be my age with nobody left. Everyone you knew and loved long gone. Well guess what? It ain’t fun. Not at all. The only company I have is you. No, kiddo, I’m ready. It’s time. And I’m glad you’ll do the honors.”

His comment shocks me.

“How did you know that?”

He chuckles.

“Because I requested it.”

Again, he catches me off guard.

“You did what?”

“I set it up, kiddo.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the closest thing I have to a family. Friday I turn one hundred. Now I ain’t no Einstein, but I do know that once we hit triple digits, we’re done. So I do it on my terms, you know? That way, I’m in control. No fuss, no regrets. And I get to see my Katarina again, maybe.”

Silence falls over the room and I don’t know what to say. Alfred takes a deep breath and continues.

“I almost forget what she looks like. It’s been so long, like another lifetime ago. All I can remember were her big chestnut brown eyes. Always there when I needed them. It happened too fast. I was in the Battle of Rome, fighting off the Chinese, when I heard they bombed Chicago. By the time I was able to get to a satellite phone, she was gone. All gone….”

The buzzing and beeping of the machines fills the room, a mechanical heartbeat keeping time with my own heart. His profound sadness hangs in the air a little too long before he continues.

“Ever since then, my world has been a dark, bottomless pit. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

The awkward silence settles in again, and it makes me uneasy. While I begin taking my readings, I offer an invitation.

“So what was the war like? I’ve read about it and seen pictures, but that’s not the whole story, is it?”

Alfred chuckles, then clears his throat.

“No, it isn’t. The war was, at first, a patriotic thing. The Koreans invaded Japan and destroyed the American air base in Yakota. The commander of the base was on with ABC news when the Koreans broke in and executed him right on the air. He didn’t cower or beg, just stood up and told them attacking him was attacking every American, and that wouldn’t go unpunished. The next day, every able bodied kid that could hold a gun was signing up. Including me.”

He takes a long deep breath.

“And that was the biggest mistake of my life.”

The comment blurts out before I can catch it.

“Mistake?”

He takes another long and deep breath.

“Like I said, at first it was patriotic. But as the days turned into months, I learned it wasn’t that simple, so black and white. It was all kinds of gray. This one was selling secrets to that one, who was helping this one build weapons to destroy that one, who wanted to invade this one to spite that one. And on and on. Everyone had dirt on them. Even us. We already knew who was going to do what. Those codes were broken long ago. We wanted a piece of the pie just like everyone else. So we spilled blood to get it. And while we were spilling our blood, the loved ones we left behind were sold to fuel the fire.”

My head spins a little off axis.

“Sold?”

“Didn’t you ever read The Anderson Report?”

“The what?”

He sighs again, his agitation clear.

“Isn’t it taught in schools?”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Figures. And this is why I’m ready to go. We haven’t learned anything. Not a damn thing. The Anderson Report looked at the bombing of Chicago, and what they found out still pisses me off eighty years later. Eighty years.”

I interrupt him, my curiosity piqued.

“What did they find?”

He hisses out a sarcastic laugh.

“The nuke wasn’t Chinese or Korean. It was American.”

I need to know more, but my phone rings. I look down and see it’s the Chief.

“Excuse me. I have to take this.”

I step out in the hall.

“Hello.”

The Chief sounds irritated.

“What are you doing, Jansen?”

“I, ah, I’m prepping Deming for Friday.”

He hacks one of his throaty tobacco coughs and attacks.

“Because it sounds like you’re trying to dig up information that’s long been buried.”

Instantly, my blood pressure hits the roof.

“Are you spying on me?”

He growls.

“I’m monitoring the rooms like I’m supposed to. And what I’m hearing sounds dangerously close to treason. Do I need to remind you what the laws are concerning revisionist history? Specifically, discussions concerning Chicago?”

“You know, that’s a very interesting topic, Peterson. Because I don’t ever remember studying it in grade school or high school, or even college. Don’t you find that a little convenient?”

“I find it’s the law. If you can’t grasp that, then I can sure find someone else who can. Understand?”

My blood is at a boil, and I’m about to blow, when I hear Alfred’s voice.

“Kiddo, can you get over here? I need to talk to you. Now.”

The Chief overhears and smothers me with a sarcastic chuckle.

“By all means, Jansen, attend to your patient. Don’t forget what we discussed here. And remember, the walls have eyes and ears. Have a nice day.”

I stroll back in the room, angry and jaded. Right away, Alfred starts laughing.

“So do you see why I’m ready?”

All I can do is sigh and shake my head, afraid that anything I say will be turned against me. Alfred chuckles.

“Never mind them. Listen, I have a favor to ask. I need you to do something for me.”

I shoot him a confused look and a slow nod. He pauses for a second, and then explains.

“When she died, I lost more than just her. I also lost my baby. She was pregnant, two months her mother later informed me, and she was saving it as a surprise for me when I come home. So I lost two of the most important things in my life that day. Two. I never did get to go to her funeral, or even the memorial. I was in the hospital for that. And so I have some unfinished business. Maybe you could finish it for me?”

I nod and he continues.

“Over in the file cabinet, top drawer, are all my belongings. There should be a cigar box, and inside it is my wedding ring. Could you get it please?”

I amble to the file cabinet and open the top drawer. It’s almost completely empty, but front and center is the cigar box. I pick it up, and notice it’s sitting on top of a book, the title of which sends goose bumps over my skin. I snap a shocked look at Alfred, and he spits out his words in calculated phrasing.

“And that’s for you. I thought you might like it. A little piece of history. I heard it was supposed to rain today, so you might want to wrap it up and put it in a bag so it won’t get wet. Ok?”

My words are not so calculated.

“I, ah, ok. Thanks. Thank you very much. But what do I do with it?”

He chuckles.

“Learn something.”

I scan the room and see the wastebasket by the door is empty, so I remove the bag and wrap the book in it. Alfred clears his throat.

“Is the ring in there?”

I’m so shocked by his gift that I forgot about the ring. I open the cigar box, and there it is. It’s simple but elegant, a single silver band with engraving across the top. I look closer, and I see words.

Forever and always, together we shall be.

“Good, you found it. So I need you to go to the memorial and throw it in the pit. Ok?”

“What?”

“Throw it in. It’s where it belongs. With her.”

“But it’s your wedding ring.”

“Right. She gave it to me. It belongs with her.”

“But shouldn’t you-?”

“And that other thing. Be VERY careful with it. It’s REAL old. Take it home and study it. REAL carefully. OK?”

“I just don’t think-.”

His anger is white hot.

“I’ve spent an entire lifetime without anything to show except those two things. One needs to be returned to its owner, and the other needs a new one. So do this for me. Please. Think of it as my last request. Now go. You’re late for your rounds. Hurry.”

The balance of the day I dart around like the rest of the drones, performing my menial and mechanical tasks. But my mind races around inside my skull trying so hard to process Alfred’s request. And no matter how hard I try to rationalize it, I just can’t do it. It’s his bond of fidelity, and he can’t just toss it in the trash. But what then?

The rest of the week I make it a point to construct a whole host of more civilized alternatives, and each one I think of he shoots down. His obstinateness is too much. Maybe I should just throw it in the garbage. He would be none the wiser. But I would. And I can’t do that either.

Before I know it’ it’s Friday. Judgment Day.

I get to work early, a new idea in my head that just might appeal to him. Why I didn’t think of it earlier baffles me, but I do think I’ve solved the problem. The halls are empty, and I scurry to my office, preparing the presentation and explanation in my head. But when I open my office door, I’m greeted with fear.

Sitting in my desk chair is Chief Peterson.

His forehead is beet red.

On my desk, right in front of him, is my copy of The Anderson Report that Alfred gave me.

“Care to explain this?”

Rage flows through me.

“What are you doing in MY office going through MY personal property?”

He smirks.

“In case you forgot, this is MY hospital. EVERYTHING that comes in those doors becomes hospital property. It’s part of the contract you signed. Or did you forget that?”

“It’s a gift from a patient.”

“Yes, I know. And in your contract, that’s illegal. No gifts from patients.”

I don’t know what to say. I want to reach over and strangle him, but my logical side holds me back. He nods and grins again.

“So I’m going to remove this contraband and burn it. You’re going to euthanize the patient, and then Monday we’re going to meet with Labor Relations and discuss your future here. Got it?”

Before I can say anything he gets up, grabs the book, and hustles out. At the door he turns and grins again.

“Have a nice day.”

I’m caught in a maelstrom I can’t escape.

I want to pack my office and go, but I owe Alfred a proper send off. And no matter how much I try to talk myself out of it, I can’t. I check my desk, and thankfully the ring is still there. Knowing he might take it too, I put it on for safe keeping. My mind plans and plans and plans again before I’m right back at square one. So I do what I was originally going to do.

I’m going to kill Alfred.

I make my way to his room, but today I don’t trudge. In fact, I have a spring in my step. Because I know I’m doing the right thing. When I get to his room, he’s already excited.

“Today’s the big day, kiddo. Big day.”

I try to look excited, but he reads me right away.

“What’s wrong? The big bad wolf take your lunch?”

I shoot him a confused look and he repeats, the cadence slow and pronounced.

“The big bad wolf take your lunch?”

I nod and he sighs.

“Yeah, I heard the whole thing. Too bad. But I guess gifts are illegal, right?”

I nod again. And he spits out another message.

“Well now we know. No more gifts. Oh, before I forget, make sure you take your clipboard. You left it here yesterday. I had Room Service stash it in the bottom drawer before someone threw it away. Ok?”

I nod once more, and he asks the big question.

“Did you do what I said with the ring?”

“No. I’m doing that tonight after work. Are there any instructions you want to add?”

He pauses.

“No. Well, yes. Now that you mention it. Do you know the Lord’s Prayer?”

“Sort of.”

“Look it up. I’m sure you can find it somewhere. The chaplain here might know it. For the old coots like us. Before you throw it in, recite that for me. Please. I would myself, but, well, you know I can’t.”

I nod, and he asks a simple question.

“Any questions for me?”

I don’t have any, but then one rises up, one I would never have thought to ask. I feel a little bold asking it, but he’s offering.

“How did you get like this? You know. No body.”

He laughs loud and long.

“A brain inside a box? Sure, I’ll tell you. I got lucky.”

I can’t understand his reasoning.

“I don’t-.”

“I was in the big one, the Battle of Seattle. We drove them back to the ocean, and we had them. But before we slaughtered them, they called in a strike right on all of us. I was trying to escape when it went off. Boom. No more Seattle. Boom. No more enemy. Boom. No more Americans. Except me. I watched the explosion blow off both my arms and legs, and the scorching heat barbecue my body. Dumb luck the medics were right on top of me and had me stabilized in seconds. The only thing they could save was my brain. That’s all that’s left of me. Go ahead. Look in the sight glass.”

I stare inside and see a brain with wires and tubes attached. I jump back with a start, not sure what to say.

“I didn’t know. I thought there was an actual person.”

Alfred snorts.

“There is. You’re looking at him.”

“But, I mean, why?”

“I was offered a choice. Die, or live and make the world a better place. I monitor close to a half million cameras and sensors watching for the enemy. So we won’t have another war. So no one will lose like I did.”

“And do you know why one hundred?”

“It’s a reminder that at some point, EVERYONE is expendable. Ok? Now, are you ready?”

“I, no.”

“Please. Do this for me. Let me be with Katarina again. I need her.”

I shuffle over to the main breaker box and open the panel. He adds one parting comment.

“This world is what you make it. So make it something special, kiddo. Make it count.”

I pull the lever, and Alfred is no more.

I want to scream at the waste of it all when I remember his cryptic remark. In the bottom of the file cabinet is a second book, and I slip it under my lab coat and shuffle out.

As I close the door I see the ring on my hand.

Forever and always, together we shall be.