Jack

Jack was a willful child and difficult to manage. His grandmother warned him, "Fate is Resourceful." But he was young and paid her no heed.

When she died he tried his best to remember her with affection and gratitude. But there were other feeling that seemed to press in upon his thoughts. Feelings he was unable to explain. But that's how feelings are, a bubble in your chest, detached and unwieldy. 

Jack hosted an event at local restaurant for friends of his grandmother. It was well attended by mourners and people drawn to sadness. They mingled and dipping and ate the Swedish meatballs. 

"So sorry for your loss," they would say to him as they passed. 

"Thank you," he would respond politely.

"Am I thanking them for telling me they are sorry?" He asked his wife, Andrea. 

She had offered to come and support him even though they had been living separately for the past year. She thought it would be simpler, less confusing for people. "It'll take away from the funeral if they find out." They would struggle to address the two separate losses in one regret.

Her new partner, Tim, was keeping a close eye on her from across the room. He'd come to make sure Andrea didn't succumb to emotions. Jack was her weakness and she was still dealing with the guilt of leaving him and Jack knew it and was might try to use the occasion to rekindle their love or at least to get her to sleep with him one last time. 

"Where did all these people come from?" Jack asked Andrea. 

"Apparently she had a life."

"Not while I lived with her," he said. 

But that was not really true. He did remember the parties she held and how he would peak through the door at the old women who attended in their unfashionable dresses and head scarfs. Each of them wore wore layers of beads around their necks and they had covered their wrists and fingers with silver rings and bangles. On the stove he could see a large cauldron pouring forth steam and grandmother with a wooden spoon standing over it.

Jack had decided against the normal things one does at a wake. There were no presentations, no pictures of his grandmother and no funeral announcement published by the mortuary, just tables where people could leave their used plates and napkins. Jack mingled as much as he could, listened in on the conversations, and nodded when he heard his name. When he felt uneasy he stood next to his Andrea.

"Did she suffer?" Andrea asked.

"Don't think so. The senior center said she was gone when they found her. In bed. Reading, I think."

"Reading what?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, was she reading the Bible. I mean, there might be a message. Some type of communication she wanted to share with you before she died."

"No. Don't know. Didn't ask."

"Aren't you interested?"

"That's not what happens. When you die, you're dead. No last minute texts, no final messages scrawled on the floor. That's the movies."

"How do you know if you never asked."

"Ok, see the woman over there. That one. The brown one."

Andrea was looking the wrong direction. "The only brown one."

"Yeah, yeah, what?"

"She was her nurse at the facility. Go ask her."

"Im not going to ask her. She's your grandmother. She'd just think I'm some ghoulish weirdo."

"Well, aren't you?"

"Funny. Let's not start up."

"I'm not starting anything. You're the one looking for some mystical connection."

"Mystical. Nope. Just want to know if she was thinking of you. Maybe she left some money. You know what, I am going to ask her."

"She didn't have money," Jack called out to her. He remembered that. She had committed herself to her garden and her herbs and to him. She didn't have time for anything else. He often wondered how it was she paid her bills. But she always did.

Jack was alone when the man approached him. He was thin and wore a black suit and matching hat and tie. Jack asked if he was from the mortuary. 

"No Jack. Although death is part of what I do," the man explained.

"No, not the mortuary. Are you a priest of something."

"Jack, I am the fate that your grandmother promised you'd meet one day. Now that she is gone and with her the protection that she provided you, I'm here to move this along. It's long overdue. You were supposed to be somewhere else, someone else and this life was given to you on a temporary basis, only while your grandmother protected you.

"Are you serious?" Jack asked in astonishment.

"Serious? I'm not sure what you mean."

"Look, I've got to go talk to someone. I'm sure this can wait. Help yourself to the Swedish meatball, very flavorful." And he scurried off.

 By the time Jack reached the men's bathroom, Fate was already there waiting. "It's not going to work Jack. Trying to avoid me. As I told you, without your grandmother's protection, you have to finally face me."

"Face you? What does that even mean?"

"There is another life waiting for you. One that you would be living now, but for your grandmother."

"What life?"

"I think you know. Everyone knows what they would be if not for that one moment, one action, one decision. Isn't it obvious. You just need to think back."

"But I don't remember. What action? What decision? It was just living. Didn't I?'

"In a way and that's the thing. You are just living. But in your case, you're supposed to be somewhere else."

"Ok, I'm calling someone. I'm calling the cops."

"I know them all Jack. They work with me. Why is some people get arrested and others don't? Some crimes get solved and others don't? It's fate, Jack."

"There must be something to do."

"Surrender Jack. Say your goodbyes."

Jack found Andrea talking to his grandmother's caregiver, Elsa. 

"Jack you should really talk with Elsie," Andrea said. "She knows stuff."

"I'm being followed by a freak."

"Which freak. You're not talking about Tim are you?"

"No. Not Tim. Well, Tim's a freak, but I'm not talking about him."

"Who then?"

"That guys. The guy in the suit and hat."

"Fred Astaire? You're running away from Fred Astaire?"

"This isn't funny. He says he came for me."

"Well, everyone here came for you. Ok, the food first, grandma second, but you were the third reason people came," Andrea said.

"This is different," Jack said.

"Yes, he's here for you," Elsie said. "In my country we know him. He dress differently, but he does the same job."

"What job? What does he do?" Jack asked.

"He fixes things that aren't supposed to be."

"What does that mean?" Jack demanded.

"He's here now, now that your grandmother is dead, God rest her soul."

"What did my grandmother do? Is this her idea?"

"No Jack, listen to her," Andrea insisted. "She knows. Your grandmother had tried to warn you and when you didn't listen she protected you. I don't know what that means. Elsie, what does that mean?"

"It means that Jack now has to pay for what he done."

"Pay like damages. Pay cash for the things I did wrong? Pay what?"

Elsie took his arm and said, "You will be somewhere else now. Where you are the real you."

"Well, that's a bit freaky. I told him I was calling the cops and he didn't seem to care."

"No, there is nothing that stops him," Elsie said. "I'm sorry. Your grandmother tried."

"Well she didn't try hard enough. She died."

"Yes, that is what she said," Elsie admitted.

Andrea stayed by Jack's side, trying to console. Tim joined them to protect Andrea from herself, but realized her feeling were something other that what he suspected. Elsie also stayed with him. She had unfinished work, a promise she had made to Jack's grandmother. 

The restaurant was now empty except for Jack, Andrea, Tim and Elsie. And, of course, Fate who joined them at a table in the center of the room. 

"Jack, it's time," Fate offered. 

"Where will I go. What does this mean? It's time for what? I'm still confused."

"There's nothing to worry about. It's your life, just as you were meant to live it."

 "So, just curios," asked Andrea. "Does this mean we were never married?"

Fate was looking at Jack when he responded, "I don't know. This is about Jack. How you are affected is not my business."

"Well, just one more question, Whose business is that?"

Fate smirked, "I was never told."

Fate took Jack's arm and as wisps of smoke enveloped them, Andrea called out to them, "So no alimony? I guess."