Medici On High

Calvin Suthers was often described by his peers as, “ambitious”. Having grown up poor in the streets of New York, he climbed his way out of poverty and into the political ranks of the city. A firm democrat, but no slave to the national platform, he worked solely for the people of his city, at times abandoning the platform, or strengthening it beyond their intention, he took no money from their PACs or from lobbyists, he was well respected and made his mark without a shred of nepotism or hypocrisy.

               He even rode the crowded subways, talking to the people on board and trying to rebuild trust in your neighbors and community, never considering himself above his work.

               The train today was crowded, but quiet. He sat down keeping to himself. The passengers were polite and gave him and everyone else comfortable space. Suthers opened his phone and began to read the news to catch up on local happenings. The drag of the subway was smooth and peaceful. He thanked himself for that, pushing for months to replace some of the lines.

               “Councilman Suthers?” A voice to his left asked.

               He turned to see a colleague of his, Ms. Trisha McLaughlen, the treasurer for Westchester County. They’d spoken a few times in various planning meetings across the city and he always found it a pleasure to speak with her. “Ms. McLaughlen, what brings you to this side of town?”

               “We were meeting with a consultant about conducting a series of surveys to assist in our action committee direction, I was just taking a bid and official detailing of services they’d provide. Nothing exciting like you!”

               He chuckled and put his phone away, sliding it into his trouser pocket. “Today, not so much. We’re planning a festival and I was asked to help organize the catering.”

               “Festivals are fun, I’d be excited, what’s it for?”

               “The working theme is, ‘100 Years of Firefighting’, we’re bringing in firetrucks, some antique firefighting equipment, and we’re trying to figure out which street we could shut down for a few hours. For catering we’re thinking chili and spaghetti.”

               “Interesting combo… your idea?”

               “God no. I was on board with just the chili but spaghetti? They just don’t go.”

               “Corn bread?”

               “I’m the one who suggested that actually.”

               “Smart man, maybe I could come and check out what you guys got? When is it?”

               “Next Saturday and we’re hoping somewhere in Queens. I’ll send you the info when the details are ironed out.”

               “Great, I’ll see you there?”

               He shyly looked away, trying to hide his smile a bit. If he wasn’t able to filter himself he’d be smiling ear to ear but was careful to make sure all she’d see was part of a grin. “Yeah. I’ll be there, and I’ll make sure to save you a seat.”

               “There aren’t enough seats for everyone? I didn’t know there needed to be one saved but I’m glad it’s for me.” She said, moving a bit closer to him, their shoulders now touching.

               “Well no, but I can make sure my schedule is cleared up to make sure I always get to see you.”

               “Sounds lovely councilman.”

               He looked away again. It was a quirk of his that politics could never iron out. Council meetings weren’t exactly romantic and there wasn’t much opportunity to work out his romantic side. “You know you can just call me Calvin if you’d like”. He said turning back to her.

               What he saw wasn’t her.

               Close enough to his face he was sure it could feel his breath, he was faced with someone else’s smiling face. It was like another being suddenly appeared between them. This being looked like it was from another world. Half its face was bright white with a bright yellow eye, and the other a red face with a bright white eye, split perfectly down the middle with a thin black line. Its face was shaped with violent angles with similarly sharp looking bright white teeth. All in all, it had relatively few features to speak of, appearing like it came straight from a cartoon.

               It startled Calvin who jumped from his seat. He was able to get a better look at it. Whatever it was, it was spewing from the open smile of Trisha McLaughlen, flopping onto the floor, keeping the same smile. It just kept coming and coming until finally a pair of legs fell to the floor with the rest of it. He turned to run but noticed his surroundings had changed completely. Everything took on a gray and static hue, all except for him and the being that was now picking itself up from the subway floor. Nobody else moved, as though they were frozen in time, but the being stood, arching it’s back violently to not hit its head on the top of the car. It walked over to Calvin, still, keeping the same face, bending to him causing Calvin to fall to the floor.

               “Good day councilman Suthers! How do you do?” It asked. Its voice was unnaturally loud, uncharacteristically high pitched, and had a vaguely European accent. Like a mix between Polish and English that he couldn’t pin down. While its mouth moved as it spoke, it didn’t have any lips or tongue so the words didn’t match the shape its mouth took.

               Looking up, Calvin found it hard to answer, but felt compelled to anyway. “F-Fine enough. For what do I owe the pleasure Mr…?”

               “Well… what would you like to call me?”

               It was so cheery, it took him especially off guard. “What are you here for?”

               It leaned in a bit closer. “You’re about to die. I am a shepherd of sorts. I am bringing you to the River Stix, or the great desert, or the saint Bernard at the pearly gates.”

               “Are you Death?”

               “Many call me that, but I doubt it would bring you much comfort in this most historic of personal moments. I offer Medici as an alternative!” It said, stepping back to bow before him so as not to hit Calvin. The rest of his body was completely black and pencil thin, his neck was so long he thought it would snap if he turned quickly enough.

               “What do you mean I’m about to die.”

               Medici looked up with his resting wide smile and snapped his fingers, in an instant, the train was engulfed in flames, and Calvin felt his body being crushed against the subway steel and other bodies. In the same instant, he was brought back to before, when he was sitting in front of Medici. “I am having this same conversation with everyone else in the car.” An apparition of him appeared in front of all the passengers except for a younger man wearing earbuds.

               “What about that guy?” Calvin asked awkwardly.

               “All but him. He survives but only everything above his kneecaps and the side of his brain opposite the impact.”

 Medici held out a lanky hand in what could be considered a kind gesture. Calvin took it and was yanked into Medici’s plane of existence.

Where he fell was devoid of all logic and sense. He and Medici floated in a black void, but even though it was devoid of light he could make out every detail of his scenery. Various objects floated with them, a sofa, some office supplies, a car, and one of the subway cars, phasing in and out of their presence in that plane in fits of jolts and static. He couldn’t control the direction he was floating but he could spin. Looking in the direction he decided was up, he saw an aurora borealis like phenomena, but instead of blue and green streaks waving through the sky it was colored red and white. He looked at it for some time, allowing it to keep his bearings. As he watched, it slowly turned to Medici’s smiling, triangular face. He could’ve sworn it even winked at him.

“Do you believe you lived your life as a good person in your position?” Medici asked, breaking the silence.

“Of course… but do any answer differently.”

He was completely still, floating through the void as though he was leaning against a support beam. “At times yes. But that is the usual answer. All those poor souls who went with you, well I really shouldn’t say, but they’ve said the same thing. ‘I am worthy.’ ‘Please don’t send me to hell.’ The usual.”

Calvin could feel his body get colder, but the pain or discomfort that should’ve come with it was gone. He remembered he was hungry just before Medici took him. Now, he could no longer understand the concept of food. “Where are we going?”

Even though his face never changed, his voice did, enough for him to picture what a human face would look like. His voice turned to violent anticipation. “To your day of judgement councilman.”

The void raced by accelerating past the objects floating beside them. A box of crayons. An open windowpane. He could see everything pass by so fast, but could not sense the change of speed, he could no longer feel the cold of the void, his fear started to be replaced with great emptiness. All while his focus was kept on Medici, staring back at him, as the void, in streaks of burning acceleration, turned a bright white.

When his vision came back he was in two different times. One long ago, one not so long ago. He was both a child, talking of his dreams to his teacher, and an adult, living those dreams.

The boy he saw was no older than six. He was dressed in a clean suit his mom picked up from a thrift shop for a wedding he attended a few months prior and had a big smile on his face. He remembered that day, it was career day at his elementary school and he was talking about being the president. He stood in front of the class holding his essay in an old building with chipped wall paint and old taped on decorations. The kids around him were all bored or anxiously awaiting their turn to share, just like he was in their seats the rest of the class.

In the other vision he was campaigning to his constituents for the first time as an incumbent. For the first time with results to back up, or topple down, his word. This suit was personally tailored, the same one he was wearing now as he watched himself with a deadpan look on his face. In New York, this suit was torn to shreds and covered in blood and bits of flesh singed to the seams, recognizable enough that authorities would use this primarily to identify him once he was dug out of the debris. In the scene, he stood on the stage of a community center he helped get funding to renovate, speaking out of a cheap microphone hiding a flashcard with some of his points up his sleeve to peek at when he was lost.

“What am I seeing?” He asked, his voice hollow from self-directed grief.

“It seems the criteria you may be judged by. Interesting that these are what hold significance to you. I suggest you study them and come up with a good defense.”

He lazily turned his head to look at Medici, still with the deadpan. “Am I going on trial?”

Medici shrugged with his pencil thin shoulders, much smaller than should be for his oversized head. “I’m not sure. But I see this a lot with those I shepherd. What do they hold dear? What do they consider distinctive or unique about themselves? Do you care to share councilman Suthers?”

He turned back to the scenes playing out before him, staring in a way Medici thought looked like a hypnotized, hunched over goat. “I was thinking a lot about that day in school when I was up for election, about what I said that day.” The scenes played over one another, making it uncomfortable to decipher who was talking and what they were saying.

“When I grow up, I want to be president!”

“When I get another term as your wards councilman, I promise great things for the communities I have the pleasure to represent, the committees I oversee, and fantastic people I get to meet!”

“The first thing I would do is give all the money to the people who don’t have enough. They would be happy with me as president.”

“The hungry will be fed, the poor will have opportunity, and we will all work together in the name of our great city and our great country!”

“We will all love America!”

“I work to educate!”

“I want to help!”

“I humbly ask to take on the burdens of the city.”

“I want to make peace!”

“I will prevent crime before it happens with investments into youth programs and education.”

Medici listened intently. Interested in why the both of them here now. Then both scenes unified in a singe sentence and a crescendo of applause. “I want to save the world!”

“Interesting…” Medici said, turning to Calvin. “It seems you’ve fancied yourself a hero for quite a while. I can’t say that in itself is all that unique, but to be so open about it. I appreciate the self awareness.”

“When I was talking to the crowd for my reelection I just thought about that career day. I felt so young again. Like I could actually be the hero I wanted to be. And maybe I could’ve.”

“But you’re dead. And all you have now is what there is to remember you by. What would those things be councilman?”

“Ironically… the subway. I got them cleaned up and had tracks refitted. Why did this one fail? It should be mostly brand new.”

“Can’t say. Sometimes these things just happen. If it makes you feel any better, you definitely weren’t important enough to be assassinated so I think it was an accident.”

“Thanks.”

“So you worked to be a hero. Did you succeed?”

The councilman was silent for a moment. The scenes the two watched vanished into the void and they began to approach a bright light. “I hope so.”