To Life

He could not hear or see. He could not even feel the weight of his own body. Then all of the painful sensations returned and the nightmare began. His car broke down on an isolated road miles from home. Making matters worse was the fact that he was struggling to hold back a bowel movement. He got out of the car. He decided to take a shortcut through the woods to a neighbor’s house. The urge to empty his bowels increased with each step he took. The woods were thick and dark, and he knew it would take a long time to work his way through them. As much as he regretted not having any toilet paper, he did what came naturally. He dropped his trousers and squatted. That is when it happened. A mountain lion decided to punish this other predator for marking what the cougar considered to be its territory. It attacked and mauled Dale viciously. The pain of the injuries was excruciating, but the attack quickly ended and so did all physical feeling. He was back to being weightless. He could not hear or see in the manner we all take for granted, but he could sense objects and sounds. It was as though he was experiencing everything on a whole different level. He thought he was having an out of the body experience.

“You died.”

“What?”

“Passed away is the euphemism I think you use.”

“You mean I’m lying there in a pile of my own shit with my pants down around my knees?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“What an undignified way to go!”

“Shit happens.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s an expression I’ve always found amusing.”

“Well it’s not. Why did you let the cougar attack me?”

“We don’t control such things. We just observe how you react to them.”

“Thanks a lot!”

“You’re welcome.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“I know.”

“Who are you?”

“Does it matter?”

“What you’re going to do to me sure does.”

“You get to start over.”

“What do you mean I get to start over?”

“You haven’t learned all you need to know to move on.”

“You mean I flunked life?”

“I wouldn’t put it in those terms, but, in a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Is it like having to repeat the third grade or something?”

“Not exactly. When you repeat a grade in school you remember what you learned the first time around.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying I’m going to be a baby who can’t control his bladder or bowels; that I have to relearn all those very basic things and how to communicate?”

“It doesn’t take that long, and you won’t remember it.”

“Not remembering is what I object too. We are our experiences and what we have learned from them. I won’t even be me.”

“That’s correct.”

“But I want to be me!”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m not going to do it.”

“Suit yourself, but you’re not a part of this world in your present form.”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

“Yes and no. You’ll see what I mean.”

“Then leave me alone and let me discover it on my own.”

“As you wish. No need to try to call me. I’ll know when you change your mind.”

He was tempted to call that disembodied voice an arrogant bastard but thought better of it. It is not wise to piss something off when you don’t know how much power it might have. The one thing Dale knew was that he was here. He tried to re-inhabit his body. He passed through it like a vapor. He could not even get back into it let alone control it. Still he was here on this earth. He now indulged in a bit of rationalization. If I’m here, I’m not really dead. What I need is medical attention. I need someone to repair and revitalize my body so I can use it again. Then he had a glimmer of hope. If this is a nightmare, I’ll wake up. But he was sure it was not a nightmare. If I’m in a comma time is of the essence. Someone has to repair my body while I’m still alive. He could not just sit there and hope someone would find him in time.

He started drifting. That was the only way he could describe what he was doing. He was not walking or flying he was thinking his way along. He was literally passing through the trees; they offered no resistance. There was the house of his neighbor. He oozed through the wall of the kitchen. There was Esther cooking dinner. She turned and walked through him on her way to the refrigerator. She opened the refrigerator, removed several items and walked through Dale again. She then set the items on the counter near the stove.

“Van did you open a window or door?”

“No dear.”

“I wonder if women my age ever experience the opposite of hot flashes.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, if it happens again I’ll ask the doctor.”

Dale was afraid he would scare Esther so he decided to try to talk to Van. He drifted into the living room where Van was watching television.

“Van! It’s Dale.”

The words were crisp and clear, but Van did not hear them. Dale tried shouting, but Van could not hear him. Thinking seemed to be the thing. It was all Dale had. Maybe he needed to try someone who had connected to his thoughts better. His ex-wife came to mind. They had been close once, but that was a long time ago. The emotional connection had been broken. They no longer shared their feelings or deep thoughts. It had to be someone who would think his call for help was an intuition.

He was drifting again, into town and then the tavern. He had been spending a lot of time in the tavern lately. He thought he was having fun, but he now realized he had been using alcohol to numb the pain. Most of the regulars were there. They were friends. They shared their feelings and their joy, but what they shared the most was the inebriation that made jokes seem funnier and sadness more overwhelming. He tried to talk to some of them, but they could not hear him. The connection between him and them was not that great because it did not extend beyond the tavern.

“Drifting,” the word struck him like a blow. He had spent the last two years of his life drifting in an alcoholic haze, trying to anesthetize himself from his feelings of failure. But was he a failure? He was not what you would call a howling success, but he was still doing reasonably well at his work. He drifted into the home of old friends. Carl and his wife Jane were eating dinner. Dale had been neglecting the relationship he had with those wonderful people. He was suddenly overwhelmed by how much he cared for them.

“Carl, I have this terrible feeling. I know it’s going to sound silly, but I think Dale’s in trouble.”

“Maybe he got drunk and ran off the road.”

“That’s not funny.”

“No it isn’t.”

Carl got up and dialed Dale’s cell phone number. When he didn’t get an answer he dialed the home number.

“He’s not answering.”

“Try the tavern.”

“No one at the tavern had seen Dale that night.”

Dale suddenly felt the weight of his body. His muscles flexed but he was constrained. He opened his eyes to discover he was in a room.

“Don’t try to talk,” a female voice said. “You’re in the hospital.”

“You’re lucky that motorist had to take a leak or he wouldn’t have wondered into the woods,” a male voice said.

So Dale had been bleeding out in a pile of shit, and he was saved because someone had stopped to take a leak. Dale would have laughed, but he blacked out again.

He was at the beach with his son and his daughter. They were looking at the creatures in the tide pools. He had his son lightly touch a sea anemone. Robby pulled his finger away as the anemone closed up.

“It’s sticky,” Robby observed.

“What you’re feeling are stingers that are too short to penetrate your skin. Let me show you how it protects itself from creatures like us.”

Dale poked the anemone, and it squirted water. The children laughed, and their delight made Dale smile.

He had been neglecting his children. It was all too easy to do after the divorce. Now he missed them terribly. Teaching them and sharing discoveries with them was one of life’s greatest pleasures.

He opened his eyes. A doctor was looking down at him.

“It’s nothing short of a miracle that you’re still alive. Your face is going to look terrible after we take the bandages off, but the plastic surgeon can come close to making you look like you did.”

Dale could not talk because there was a tube down his throat. Close would be good enough. He would still be who he was. He would still have his memories and his love for all the beautiful things on this earth. He could still share who he was with his children, his siblings and his friends. He now remembered walking down the pier with his ex-wife, Carl and Jane. A religious fanatic who was determined to convert the converted accosted them. She told them to stop worshiping God’s creation and see the light, because true happiness was only found in the kingdom of heaven.

“If you reject the gift of the father how can you accept the gift of the son?” Carl asked.

“What?”

Life itself was the greatest gift. Dale told her to think about it.

Her retort was a threat to pray for them. It was a threat because it was her way of calling them fools.

Dale now realized there were many ways to reject life. Failing to appreciate it by withdrawing from the people he loved is how he had been rejecting it. He realized he would never be a celebrated humanitarian, but the positive impact he could have on the lives of the people he knew was still a good way of measuring success. He had been given a second chance. He still had the time to share, to help and to enjoy.

First published in macsbackporch.fictonforall.com on Oct 14, 2010