| Deadshot’s Domain The Room The room was, in a word, captivating. Not one detail failed to catch the eye somehow or another. The floor was covered with lush carpeting so that every step was cushioned. In front of him, a large bookcase, filled with books, took up the whole space of the wall from floor to ceiling. To his right was a large oak desk. On it, a table lamp, the type you see in libraries with the green lampshade and little pull-chain. Also cluttering the desktop was the typical little box of pens and pencils, and right in the center—paper. Or papers actually. Piles of papers, each with his name printed in bold, upper case somewhere on the page. Behind the desk was a chair, built for the sole purpose of comfort—a difficult thing to accomplish these days. No windows behind the chair though. Nowhere to look when the work at the desk seemed too tedious to bother with. Strange, he thought. He looked to his left. It seemed—as if something was missing there as well—not a window, but something else. He couldn’t quite place what it was, but he was quite sure it was something. In the corner where the wall met the bookcase—well, almost in the corner then—was another table, also accompanied by a lamp, though not one with a green lampshade. Sitting on the table was a globe of the earth. He watched it, fascinated. The globe slowly turned on its axis, mimicking the movement of its original. And so beautifully crafted too. So real that he felt he could cause a ripple if he touched the oceans. The lamp, for its part, simply played its role as the sun – illuminating first this side, then the other, as the sphere slowly completed each rotation. The other corner also had a table. A matching table in fact, accompanied by a matching lamp as well. There was no globe, however. Only a book. A very large book, open to some page with writing he couldn’t make out. The last page—or so he assumed it was—stopped just short of the middle. Leaning towards it, he could make out a list of names. No specific order. No specific pattern. Names of men and names of women—or, for that matter—possibly boys and girls. Some were written plainly. Other names, however, weren’t plain. The odd name had a star stamped beside it. He walked up to the book and glanced at the last name on the page. It was his. And strangely—it too had a star. “David?” asked a voice from behind him. He turned around to see a couch behind him. Probably of the same make as the chair behind the desk. It looked very inviting and was, most likely, comfortable to lie on. Beside the couch was yet another table, matching the previous two and, again, accompanied by an identical lamp. Finally, David noticed a man sitting in a chair. The man’s features were somewhat shadowed, enough that David could only make out his eyes. They were eyes that—how could he put it—were comforting, yet disconcerting. “David. Time is of the essence.” “Of course,” said David, coming to lie down on the couch, “Forgive me.” “Right. Shall we begin the session then?” “Yes. Where shall I begin?” “At the beginning of course,” replied the man, as if there was no other reasonable place to start, “You do have a photographic memory do you not? Your report says that you do.” David frowned. “Yes. That’s true. But lately, it’s been betraying me I think. The beginning you say. That would have to be my birth. Of course, I wasn’t able to physically see what occurred before my birth, but I can relay the story I was told.” “Very well. Please proceed.” “My mother had been having problems in the hospital. She never liked the smell of it. It always reminded her of those little white pucks they put in the men’s urinals. The big white mints, she’d call them. Anyway, that smell coupled with the fact that she was going into labor resulted in her passing out. And she passed out right in the middle of giving birth to me.” “Right in the middle you say?” “Right in the middle. Not that big a deal, but somehow during the labor, I managed to wrap the umbilical cord around my neck. So, while my mother took a siesta, I was slowly choking to death. Everyone in the room started to panic. I believe that included the doctor, the nurse, and my father. In fact, the nurse was panicking the most. He actually seemed to be panicking too much, almost as if he were acting, my father said. It was very unprofessional. Both my father and the doctor looked at him quizzically, forgetting about my mother for a moment. Fortunately for me, she came to, and moaned as a contraction hit her hard. The doctor ordered her to. Then, he slowly spread her legs as far apart as he could. He needed to cut the cord, and he needed room to do it. My mother screamed, but the doctor persisted. My head peeked out, inch by inch, and apparently, I was turning purple in the face due to lack of oxygen. Finally, enough of my head was clear in order for him to cut the cord. He released me of my noose and dangled me by the ankles, giving me a whack on the bottom. I was still recovering from my first of many near death experiences, and did not cry out. I was still gasping for air. At least, that’s how my father tells the story.” “Amazing!” said the man, as he scribbled away in his notes, “Your first experience with life, and it’s nearly taken from you before it even starts.” “Yup. And I have to say, I’m surprised I made it. Not even born, and fate was already bending me over to kick me in the ass.” “I beg your pardon?” “I’m sorry. What I meant was this was – like I said – the first of many near death experiences that I’ve had in my life. It makes a guy question things he wouldn’t have questioned if all those things didn’t happen.” “Those things?” “The near death experiences.” “I see. Now, back to your birth. What do you remember once you were able to—how did you put it—physically see things for yourself?” “My mother looked beat. Her eyes were half closed and she had a faint smile on her lips. I know she was excited that I’d been born, but the act of giving birth took its toll. She needed sleep. She needed it badly.” “And your father?” “He was bouncing all over the room. Finally, the room couldn’t contain him and he bounced out into the corridor, like a pinball, yelling ‘I have a son! I’m a daddy! I have a son!’ Then he started sticking cigars into the mouth of every person he saw. Even the receptionist at admissions.” “Do you remember anything else?” “Yeah. I remember the doctor seemed both relieved and satisfied. He whispered congratulations to my mother and then went to save the receptionist from my father.” “And the nurse?” “He’s the only one who bugged me. He actually seemed disappointed. I couldn’t really see it in his body language, but I could see it in his eyes.” “His eyes?” “Yeah. See, he still had the cap and face mask on, so I couldn’t see anything except his eyes. They were very strange eyes.” “What was strange about them?” “They were just like yours.” “Mine?” “Yours. The eyes say a lot about a person doc. You of all people should know that. His eyes were just like yours. Disarming in a way… yet unsettling as well. The kind of eyes that send a shiver up your spine, you know? Anyway, he looked at me with those eyes, and I remember feeling something weird. Almost supernatural.” David was silent for a moment, contemplating. Then he shrugged, “Strange, isn’t it?” The doctor didn’t say anything, but continued to scribble in his notes. David looked around again. “Beautiful stuff you have here. I especially liked the feel of the carpet. It… Hey! Didn’t you have a carpet in here? I swear I was standing on a plush carpet earlier.” “Never a carpet in here David. I think you’re imagining things.” The doctor looked at the floor as if trying to discern how David had thought a carpet had draped the cold hardwood. “Hmm. My mistake. I must not have been paying attention when I first came in. Maybe I just made the assumption that a psychiatrist would have a carpet in his office.” “Sorry to disappoint you David. No carpet.” The doctor smiled gently. “Say, what time is it?” asked David suddenly, sitting up on the couch. “Time?” “Yes. Is the session over? Is it time to go?” “Not at all. We’ve only just begun. Tell me more. What happened next?” David relaxed, lying back and closing his eyes, “Nothing important. At least, not for a while anyway. I grew up your typical kid. Only difference was, I was living on borrowed time.” “Borrowed time?” “Yeah. At least, that’s how I see it now. And I think that’s how somebody else saw it too. Somebody important. Somebody, who was pissed that I’d cheated death.” “Fascinating!” “I know.” “I’m also pleased to see you’re loosening up as well.” “I beg your pardon?” “Loosening up. You were speaking very properly when we started. You seemed—uncomfortable. But now you seem to be—loosening up.” “Oh. And that’s good?” “Yes. It’s ‘good’. Please—do continue.” “Right. Well, I was about nine when the next ‘experience’ occurred. My mom had finally given me permission to ride my bike to the huge children’s playground, halfway across town. Fabulous playground! Three different slides, five sets of swings, teeter totters, you name it. This place had everything to keep a kid satisfied for hours. Anyway, I was allowed to ride my bike there as long as I didn’t stop by the river on my way.” “The river?” “Yeah. Between our house and the playground was a bridge that crossed a large river. It was one of those fast flowing rivers, y’know? The kind that tourists stop to take pictures of because it looks so cool.” “I see.” “So naturally, my buddies and I stopped by the river, parking our bikes at the end of the bridge and walked down the little embankment to the edge of the water.” “You weren’t going to swim in it, were you?” “Good grief no. We were dumb, but we weren’t stupid. No, we knew it was rolling too fast to swim in. Besides, our teacher had just read a novel to us called… uh… Shoot, it was called… Oh! It was called On My Honor, but I don’t know who wrote it. Anyway, my buddies and I thought it was funny that we had a spot in town just like the one in the book. Of course, we weren’t dumb enough to think we could swim in it like the kid in the book—who drowned, incidentally—we were content to have boat races with pieces of driftwood or branches or whatever we could use. We’d even fill our packsacks with homemade little boats. Tons of boats, so that we could waste an hour just racing them down the river. The races were tough to follow too. The rapids hurled our boats downstream so fast that we often had difficulty keeping up with them as we ran down the shoreline.” “And where did the races start and end?” “There wasn’t much room along the river for a shoreline, but whoever had made the bridge had carved out a pretty good area around it, so we started about fifteen yards up from the bridge to about fifteen yards past the bridge. It was long enough for a good race. Anyway, we were racing our boats when a car pulled up to park at the end of the bridge—by our bikes. A couple got out and walked along to stand in the middle of the bridge to stare at the river. They could stand there because there was a little walkway built specifically for pedestrians. We were running down the edge of the river when I noticed them. I looked up—first at them, then at our bikes. See, another kid’s bike had been stolen while he was racing boats one day, so I was a little leery about anyone who stopped at the bridge while we were there. But, they seemed to be a nice young couple—probably just married by the looks of them—so I didn’t worry about our bikes. She was very pretty, like the girls you see on TV commercials. I honestly think she may have been a model—but that’s kind of irrelevant.” “Irrelevant?” “Yeah. It was the guy who I noticed. He was staring at me like he knew me. It was weird. Not my buddies, just me. He had those same eyes I was talking about earlier too.” David sat up and looked at the man. “Like your eyes,” he said, noting the doctor’s features. “He had the same expression you have right now too. Like he was thinking of something else while his attention seemed to be focused on me.” “Don’t worry David, I’m paying attention.” David grinned, “Just testing ya doc. So anyway, my attention is so focused on this guy, that I’m not looking where I’m going and I trip over a tree root.” “A tree root?” “Yeah. Heck if I know what it was doing sticking up out of the ground, but there it was, nonetheless. I tripped over it and fell, somersaulting right into the river.” “Good grief!” “You’re telling me! So there I am, hurtling down the river like one of our boats, screaming and yelling the whole way—and taking in so much water that I could have been a sponge.” “So what happened?” “The girl on the bridge starts screaming and telling the guy to do something. My friends are all hollering and yelling for help—and I’m beginning to think I might actually beat our boats to the finish line.” “What?!” “Don’t ask me why I was thinking that. You think strange things in situations like that.” “Interesting! Now tell me. How did you get out?” “The guy on the bridge came running down the embankment and jumped into the river.” “No. Seriously?” “He did. And together, we were swept down the river—him holding onto me, and me trying not to choke on all the water I was taking in. He was trying to keep me above the surface while swimming to the side, but he was doing an awful job of it. I actually think I took in more water while he was ‘helping’ me than I did before that. Meanwhile, my friends and the girl on the bridge were running down the trail, about ten feet in from the river, shouting for help and telling us they’d save us. I remember thinking that if they were going to do anywhere near as bad a job of saving me as the guy in the river with me, I was doomed.” “You thought that?” “I told you. You think strange things! But anyway, that was when I passed out.” “You passed out?” “Yeah. When I came to I remember throwing up and having someone roll me onto my side. I looked up and saw the girl kneeling beside me. She was spitting and wiping her face, but she was more concerned for me than herself. I choked a little, and she rubbed my back. Then she asked me if I could sit up. I nodded and sat up, looking around. My friends were standing around me, wide-eyed and silent. Finally, my pal Billy asked me if I was okay. I grinned and said yeah.” “What about the fellow who jumped in to save you.” “He was sitting off a ways, coughing a bit, but all right. The girl went over to him and told him I was going to be okay. He shrugged and said ‘Yeah, that’s great…’” “But?” “But it was thick with sarcasm, like he didn’t care that I was going to live to reach my tenth birthday. He actually seemed somewhat—disappointed.” “Really,” said the doctor, scribbling some more in his notes, “so you managed though did you?” “I’m here aren’t I?” said David, grinning and shrugging his shoulders. “Indeed,” replied the doctor, “here—you are.” “So,” David said, getting up from the couch to stretch his legs, “is it time yet?” “I beg your pardon?” “Is the session over yet? Is it time for me to go?” David walked over to the globe, still transfixed with the remarkable likeness it had to its original. “I love this place. It kind of reminds me of a dean’s office. Like the fellow who you have to meet before you’re allowed to attend certain universities. Beautiful desk, globe in the corner, huge bookcase filled with books…what the hell?” “Is there a problem David?” “I swear to God that you had a large bookcase here. It covered the entire wall in fact.” David looked at the wall, bare and void of any traces of a bookcase ever having been there. “Never a bookcase there David. I’m not one for books. Maybe had a few in my time, but certainly not a bookcase full. My interest lies in other things.” “Incredible!” David replied, still looking at the wall and running his hand along it, “Simply incredible.” He looked around, wondering if anything else was missing. His eyes stopped as the wall to his left caught his attention. In each corner, a table and lamp with some object filling the table’s space. However, between both tables there was nothing. Something was missing. Something was supposed to be there. But what? “Tell me about your family David. When did you first know that you were going to marry your wife? No, better yet, tell me about how you proposed to her.” David smiled and came back to lie on the couch, “It was beautiful. I couldn’t have planned it more perfectly. It was her birthday, and I’d slipped a birthday card and two roses into her mailbox early that morning. I watched from a concealed area as she came out to the mailbox and opened it. She must have known I was around, because she looked up immediately and started scanning the area to see where I was hiding. She couldn’t find me, so she simply yelled ‘I LOVE YOU!’ and walked back into her house while reading the card.” “You proposed on the card?” “Ugh. No way! That would have been stupid and unromantic. No, in the card was a clue that began a large sort of ‘treasure hunt’ for her to follow. Christie loved little mind games and puzzles like that, so it was easy to see she was thrilled. The hunt sent her all over town and took her the better part of the day to finally get to the end—but I knew she could do it. There was never a doubt there.” “And you were at the end?” “Naturally. If you’re going to propose to someone, you have to do it in person. So anyway, I’m sitting in the restaurant at a table for two—with candles flickering and soft, romantic music in the background—when she finally comes in. At first, she was embarrassed because she felt she hadn’t dressed for the occasion, but then she saw that I was dressed like her and she sat down giggling. There we were. The two of us—dressed to go to McDonald’s—sitting in one of the ritziest restaurants in town. ‘A toast?’ I asked, raising my glass of water, ‘A toast!’ she replied, following my lead. ‘To us’ I said, clinking my glass to hers. ‘To us’ she replied, giggling and blushing. We ordered dinner and chatted for a while. Then, when we were finished, I asked the waiter to bring us ‘dessert’. When he came back, he placed a small plate in front of Christie. On the plate was my life’s savings—a diamond ring, sitting in a little black velvet box. She looked at me, shocked and emotionally charged. I wiped the beginning of a tear away from her smiling face, then held her hands and asked her if she’d marry me. She jumped out of her chair and gave me a big hug, nearly cutting off my circulation. ‘Of course’ she said, ‘of course I’ll marry you.’” “Wow,” said the doctor. He looked as though he’d say something else, but then he simply repeated himself. “Wow.” “We went and saw a show after that,” continued David, “I can’t remember what it was called, because we didn’t really watch it, y’know. We were too caught up in the moment. When we came out of the theatre though, we almost lost that moment altogether.” “Almost lost the moment? What do you mean?” “We were walking down the street, heading back to my apartment when a fella stopped us to ask for some change. I gave him some, and he ran off down the street to the corner store ahead of us. By the time we reached the store, we’d decided I should slip in and buy a little something for the evening. Well, not a little something, but—“ “I know. Carry on.” “Anyway. I opened the door to the store and the fella who had asked me for change was at the till, holding a gun to the cashier. I guess he’d used the change as a ploy to pretend to buy something and mislead the guy behind the counter into thinking that he was a normal customer. He was obviously very nervous and scared about getting caught because when I opened the door and entered the store, he turned and shot me.” “He shot you?” “Yeah! The bastard shot me! And I remember his face as I fell to the floor, slipping into unconsciousness. Kind of as though he was upset that he’d panicked, but then pleased that he’d shot me. And you know, come to think of it doc,” he said, sitting up to look directly at the man sitting in the chair, “he looked a helluva lot like you.” “Like me David?!” “Just like you.” “Think about that. I believe you’re trying so hard to remember things clearly that you’re starting to mix memories together. Now, tell me. What happened after that?” David lay down again, trying to focus, “Well, like I said—that was the last thing I saw before I went unconscious. My wife tells me that the ambulance showed up within twenty minutes, but I had already lost a lot of blood by then. She says they told her they would do the best they could, but were uncertain whether or not I would survive. She wasn’t allowed to ride with me in the ambulance because she had to stay back and answer questions for the police. When they finally felt that they’d drilled her enough, they let her come to the hospital, but they didn’t even bring her themselves. Cheap bastards left her to find a cab. Anyway, she sat up most the night crying in the hallway, waiting to find out if I would make it.” “Which you obviously did.” David smiled, “Yes. I did. I managed to cheat Death once again.” The doctor snorted, “Good for you,” he said, composing himself. David got up and looked around again. “So is that it doc?” he asked, walking over to the globe, “Is it time for me to go yet?” “Not quite. Still a couple more questions.” “Sure,” said David, though he sounded perplexed. “Something wrong?” “Your desk! Where did you desk go?” asked David, walking over to stand in the area he was sure was once occupied by a desk. “You had a beautiful desk here. With a magnificent chair that looked like one you could fall asleep in. Where did it go?” “Sorry David, I don’t have a desk. I write all my notes here, sitting beside the couch. No need for a desk. Too much of an extravagance.” “Well at least help me out with this,” replied David, turning to face the wall to his left, “Something is missing here and I don’t know what it is.” The man stared at the wall, not knowing what he was searching for, “I see. Well—I really don’t know David. What do you think?” “That’s the problem,” answered David, “I DON’T KNOW!” “Strange,” murmured the man, looking down at his notes. “Wait a minute!” said David, “Wait a minute! This table has moved! What the…? They’ve both moved!” He walked over to the far side of the room to look at the table with the book on it. He looked down at the page, staring in disbelief. Instead of columns and columns of names, the book was now filled with verses of the bible. In fact, it actually was a bible. The pages were open to the twenty-fourth chapter of the book of Matthew. There, highlighted in the middle of the page, were two verses that David read out loud, “Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “But of that day and hour knoweth no man.” He turned to face the man, “What is going on here?!“ David stared. There was no longer a couch. No longer a table with a lamp, or even a chair beside it. The man was standing in the shadows, leaning against the wall. David turned back to look at the book—it was gone. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!?” he demanded. Then he knew what was missing in the wall to his left. “David—“ started the man. “The door!” exclaimed David, “This room is missing a door! How the hell did I get in? How do I get out?” He looked around frantically. Then he stopped. The globe was in the middle of the room now. It wasn’t on the table, and there was no lamp acting as its sun. There was, in fact, nothing supporting it at all. It was hovering by itself, just below eye-level. It turned slowly, oblivious to everything else and capturing David’s attention again—to the point he couldn’t take his eyes off it. “Amazing,” he said, forgetting about the door—or lack of door for that matter, “It looks so real. As if it’s a miniature version of the real thing.” “It is the real thing David,” answered the man, now standing beside him. “The real thing?” echoed David softly, “How is that possible?” “One last thing David—and then everything will make sense. Tell me about your family. Tell me about your children.” “My children,” echoed David, still looking at the globe, “My children mean more to me than anything in the entire world.” “Tell me about them David. Tell me how much you love them.” “I have a son,” David started, still gazing at the globe, “His name is Trevor. The first child that Christie and I had ever had. He was ours. We made him. He was special—but that wasn’t all. We had a daughter less than a year after that. We named her Michelle, which means ‘One who is like God’. She was. She looked like an angel sent from heaven. Christie suggested maybe God sent her to be my guardian angel and keep me safe. So we called her Michelle. David smiled to himself as he remembered her birth. Then he continued. “As if it were just minutes ago, I remember my wife calling me for dinner and asking me to bring Michelle in from outside. She was playing with a balloon, throwing it up in the air and then running after it as the wind tossed it across the yard. I remember smelling that cool autumn smell of leaves—with just a hint of snow in the air. I pictured myself making a snowman with Michelle, with a carrot nose and two lumps of coal for the eyes. It was the only time of the year that I would buy coal, and I bought it specifically for the use of our snowman’s eyes. I remember thinking that I should rake the yard so the snow wouldn’t have leaves sticking out of it when we rolled it into giant balls for our snowman’s body. But then I remembered that my wife had told me it was time for dinner. Just as I was about to call Michelle in, a large gust of wind blew her balloon towards the street. Fearing for its safety, she ran after it.” David was silent for a moment. “Yes?” prodded the man, “What happened next?” “I called out to her ‘Michelle, honey, you should look both ways before—‘ but then, in the corner of my eye, I noticed a black van rushing up the street straight towards her. I screamed ‘MICHELLE! Get off the road!’ and she turned around to look at me.” The man was silent, letting David compose himself and continue. “I started running as fast as I could. From the looks of it, I wasn’t going to make it in time, but I had to try anyway. I had to save my daughter.” He paused, “I hurled myself through the air to push her out of the way—and I made it…” Silence. The man looked at David, who was now crying. “But I didn’t make it in time. The van hit us both—mostly me, but both of us flew through the air. The van screeched to a halt and I watched the man get out of his vehicle. He ran over to my daughter and looked at her. Then he ran over to me…” David was lying on the floor looking up. The man was crouched down, kneeling beside him. “You!” David gasped, looking up at the man, “You were the one driving the van!” The man lifted David to his feet and David looked around. The room was dark, and he was barely able to make out the man’s features. The only light in the room came from the small globe beside them. Only—they weren’t in the room. There was no room, and David realized—there never had been a room. He looked away from the globe into the eyes of the man in front of him, “Was it you?” he asked, “Was it you all along?” “I’m afraid it was David. I have to say you have been a most interesting subject. I’ve been following your case—well, all your life.” “Subject? Case?” David sputtered, “My daughter. Is my daughter all right?” “You’re daughter is going to be just fine David. She has a few scrapes and bruises, and a broken arm that will heal—but you definitely took the brunt of the hit.” He paused for a moment. “You saved your daughter’s life David.” “I took the brunt of the hit? But—I feel no pain.” He examined himself, “I have no bruises!” The man said nothing. “Where are we? My God! Am I—?” “Yes, David. As I said, I have been watching you for quite some time. In my book, you were due here on the day of your birth.” “So it is a middle ground—a place to wait before you’re allowed in.” “Somewhat, David.” “And you, you’re…” “Yes, David. My name is Jonathan—and I am the Angel of Death. But now, as I’m sure you are aware, our session is complete.” “I see,” said David, watching the globe become smaller and smaller as they drifted away from it. A light in the distance grew larger and brighter, “Then that means that it’s—“ “Yes David… it’s time.” |
| This is a story that I've had published. It's long, but worth the read. I hope you enjoy it! |
 |
| What did you think? Did you like it? Hate it? Tell me |
 |
| HOME |
 |
 |
| Jedi System |
| Deadshot's Domain |