The Man Who Fears Choice

The Man Who Fears Choice

Draft_3

By: Chase L. Currie

The After-Life, in the Land of the Dead,

Behind the wall of the Great City of Diz,

Sometime during the night, sometime where there is snow on the ground,

“Sir,” The tiny voices says to me.

“Sir!” The voice grows louder with each passing letter.

“SIR!” She almost starts to yell at me.

“SIR, you have been standing here for the last two hours,” she tells me. I look over at this tiny girl working the night shift at a convenience store somewhere in the city. She small, at first you would think she was a child, but she not. Her dark brown eyes tell you she not young at all. They say in whispers that this girl or women has seen things, has down things, and the Before-Life and here in the After-Life as well; things she made not want to speak of.

“You need to get something or get out,” she order me.

I can't remember walking into the store. I can't remember getting here or how I got here. I know, for sure, I had to walk, everyone walks in the Land of the Dead; there no need for cars, for there no need for time, so every one just strolls around, not having a care in the world. I can't recall standing here for the last tow hours, because all I can think about what is what candy bar I want.

A simple thing to think about it, but choosing the right one, could mean life (or After-Life) or death (again).

“Are you on something?” She asks, pulling at my dark green coat sleeve.

“No.”

“Then what in Hell is wrong with you?” A good question and a question I'm sure I would asks of someone doing the very thing I am doing right now; standing, thinking.

“I...I, uh, I don't know which one to take,” I says, looking back over a the candy bars.

“What?” she replies, “What do you mean?”

My shoulders fall low and I start to explains to her, that if I take the chocolate candy bar and walk out the door; what if someone get's mugged? It would be this choose I made that leaded up to that person getting mugged or dying...again? At least I think they can die again, not really sure on that one. Either way it would be my fault, but if I take the chocolate candy bar with nuts in it, “It could start lighting and raining and I hate walking around in the rain. So, do you see my dilemma?”

“You, sir, are a very odd bird.”

“I know that but what do I do?” I asks, almost begging for the answer. I was begging for one.

“Take both,” she tells me, “so that way the person gets mugged in the rain.” Then she spins on her heels, walks away, and leaves me. She makes back to the counter about the same time I do. I stand there for a moment, not saying a word, not sure what to say. She smiles a little, I guess thinking about how weird or odd I am. I like the smile. I like her hair too, blue and black are great colors together, so I smile back. “What is your name?”

“Most people call me the Artist,” I say, not really wanting to give her my real name. I don't care for her to know who I really am. I don't want her to know I am the Watcher Thanatos, the keeper over the city. I don't care for the question she would ask about Heaven and Hell. I just want to be faceless and nameless tonight.

“I am Christina,” she says holding her tiny hand out for me to shake it. I garb her hand, mine giant hand almost three time bigger than her's. I shake it and then shoot my hand and candy bars back into my pocket. “Nice to meet you,” she says.

“I would have to agree with that.”

“Do you smoke?”

“Not normally,” I replies.

“Would you smoke one with me then if I asked?” I didn't answer, I couldn't. I didn't know what to do, so I smile and says nothing. “You are going to smoke one with me.” I guess it hit her that I couldn't say yes or no. I guess she knew she had to do it for me. I follow her out the door to the cold. One could say, like a lost puppy but then again maybe that is what I am, just a lost dog looking for a tree to pee on. Sadly, there no trees in the city.

We stand there for a moment or tow, I spent the moments looking up at sky, watching the snow slowly far over the city. I couldn't help be wonder if someone is out there getting mugged or laying against a building cursing my name for picking the wrong candy bar, but never-the-less the snow was beautiful.

“Here,” Christina says handing me a long white paper stick and a lighter. I put the brown butt of the smoke to my lips, flick the flame on and held it against the other end of the paper. It had been years since I smoked and the taste was a kick to the teeth. At first the smoke was hard, rough against my tongue but after a second or tow the smoke started to pet my tongue, easing the discomfort and starting to taste good again. “What is up with not picking a candy bar? I mean it's just a candy bar, do you really think that could be the cause of someone getting hurt?”

“I don't know,” I says, “maybe not someone but something could happen to me.”

“Why do you think that?”

“What was the biggest decision you ever had to make?” I know it's rude to answer a question with a question.

“Rather or not to kill myself,” she says looking away from for a moment or two.

“Okay, okay, now...did you every think about all those decisions you made before that moment? Which candy bar you picked the day before or what drink you drank that day. It all led up to that moment; every little decision and chose you made leads up to that big question of rather or not to bite the bullet.” I wait for my words to work their way into her head. I wait for her to ask something but I cut her off before she could speak. “That is why I do not make anymore decisions. If I don't make any little ones than I don't have to make any of the big ones, not anymore.”

“Can you do that?” She asks me, throwing her smoke out into the snow killing the heated cheery at the end of the paper stick. “I mean you will still have to make a decision, big or small.”

“No,” I explain, “that's not right. This isn't life, there is not forward movement of time, there is no great end. So I don't have to wait for the chooses to come because they won't unless I make them happen.”

“Isn't not doing anything, still doing something?”

“Yes and no,” I says, “doing nothing, means just that, like I say no time, no moving to something, just sitting and waiting or in my case sitting.”

“But you are moving to something,”she states, still not knowing who I am. “We all are still moving forward, that's the whole point of this city. Don't you remember what Lock said? The city, the Great Wait, is for our souls to be cleanse of virtues or sins. So we can get to Heaven or Hell.” All I could was smile. All I could was nob my head. I am not moving forward to end up Heaven or Hell, I've already been there and choose to come back, that is why I am the Watcher. I left Heaven for the city. So I let the smoke die, look around, as she stands up to walk back in. Another person comes up out of the white and she has to be in there when they want to check out.

“Where are going now?”

“ I don’t' know,” I tell her, “flip the coin in your pocket, hopefully, you'll get me back to my studio.”

“Alright,” she says, “but will I see you again?”

“I don't know,” I tell her. She pulls the coin out just as the man enters the store. She tells me heads, I go home and tails, I come back to see her. She flips in the air, I watch the coin spins, almost like a star singing in the sky. She catches it and I walk away before she could tell me where to go. I guess sometime you have to make a choice, I just hope I made the right one.