The Boatman

'In Greek mythology Kharon is the Boatman who carries the souls of the deceased from the World of the Living across the river that divides to the Realm of the Dead'

Chapter One

Learning to fly

‘Edward’

‘I know what will get you’ 

‘Edward!  Eddie, it’s the silence that takes you my baby’  

I know her voice.

‘It took her from me’

Elizabeth… Beth.

‘I will not let it get you my love, not while there is breath in body’

Nothing.

I can’t hear her anymore.

There is a cluster of circular lights drifting past me, I can’t focus on it… It’s blurry like background bokeh you get on a camera but there’s nothing… Nothing sharp to focus on.

Feel woozy.

Stomach feels like it has twenty butterflies going a million miles an hour, little fuckers will not stop…

Gonna be sick, but can’t wretch it up…

Drunk, like half a bottle of bourbon drunk, but no warm feeling flowing through my body, no merriment… Just cold skin… Icy cold.

Why do I feel like this?

The circle of lights sharpens, I see a bright Red Cross perched on a filthy, dilapidated church roof.

The deep red neon sizzles in my ear at me as I float past it, can’t hold it to stop me floating away.

Maybe I should have gone to church more… Is that what that this is supposed to mean?

Not a believer, too much bad shit happened to me, my body and to those I love dearly to believe in that stuff.

Shit, I’m flying…

Can’t control it, I pass over the rest of the broken moss-covered tiles that barely cover the church roof…

Getting higher… How the fuck do I get down from here?

I see the tops of the cars, the white of the street lights, weird from above, drifting up higher, can make out the street below more vividly, I can make out two people in the dirty narrow alley, there’s a sudden flash, I can see her face reeling in horror as she falls to the ground, that skinny son of a bitch shot her!

Damn scummy pimp bastard clambers clumsily over her thin, dirty body pillaging no care as her life ebbs away, hurriedly ripping cash from her flimsy top, He rifles her jean pockets, pulling her body viciously as she slips.

He pulls something shiny and throws it aside, he raids her small white purse lay beside her, blood splatter sprayed across it, desperately seeing what other valuables he can get.

There’s someone else now stood there.

I can see her stood beside him looking down horrified as he pilfers from the lifeless corpse. She looks like her twin, same cropped jagged looking hair style, high cheek bones, but she’s cleaner, healthier looking than her twin, but she is terrified as he stands up, he does not see her?

She looks confused as she stares at the body on the floor, she looks like she is trying to comprehend what had happened.

Why kill her? That’s so fucked up.

As the alley disappears, an arm moves around the twin’s shoulder to comfort her, can’t see who, definitely not the Skinny pimp guy, can’t see the twin anymore, who the hell was that with her?

Still blurry round the edges.

Floating further up, getting higher.

Should feel sick, heights turn me, the office has five floors and mine is right on the fucking top, even that small height gives me vertigo peeking over the foyer near where I get the elevator.

Damn… When did I work last, why can’t I remember any of this shit?

Getting higher.

Can make out two guys on the edge of the tower block, gotta be twenty stories up now, butterflies still buzzing, nope can’t throw up, ain’t happening.

One of them, a young blonde-haired Jock is stood, silent, motionless, toes right on the parapet.

Stood on the edge, just looking down at the world below him, the other guy, Heavy built South American looking fella, he’s wearing a sharp suit like he should be on Wall Street, he’s shouting at the top of his voice.

Can’t hear what he’s saying.

Don’t need to… he’s pleading with Blondie not to jump. Blondie’s perfect looking face is still, his mind made up.

Shit Blondie Jumped!

The Suit tried to grab him, but couldn’t hold him, his arms passed right through him.

I can’t look.

Mustn’t look down at that poor kid falling.

Don’t want to see what happened to blondie, being hit by flashes from my imagination, him smashing into the sidewalk, his blonde locks turning black as the blood covers it or worse crushing some other poor fucker below and killing them as well their limbs splayed together and crimson.

Get it out of my head, Kid couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, just like that poor girl in the alley.

Where the fuck am I? What is this place?

I NEED to wake up.

Still flying, drifting higher. Can see a Red light in the window as I am passing, hooded guy, not a sports hoodie, like a big dark cloak.

He is stood looking out, can’t make out his face but he has some kind of big beard protruding out from the dark, it looks black and grey, but not wispy long beard hair, it’s long, spiky like dirty porcupine quills sprouting down out of the cloak to the top of his chest.

He is a scary looking fucker, can’t tell if he is looking at me.

Can’t see his eyes, the shadow from the hood and the red light behind keeps the light from touching his face.

Passed him by now, something else I can see, a piercing light in front of me.

Getting bigger.

The big light is a glass building, can just make out the little people in their homes, cooking in their kitchens, watching their big ass TV’s, working out normal looking stuff.

Dead center of the glass building I can see her stood looking out, she is looking right at me, a white woman, sharp cheek bones, dark cropped hair, business skirt and white blouse, early thirties I’m guessing, nothing special about her.

Can see another guy sat on the corner edge of the building opposite, he’s just sat there casually like he’s watching sports on TV, leaning back on his left hand, one leg crossed over the other and sipping coffee from a large mug, can’t make out his face, he’s definitely a black guy, nice tidy hair, sharp cut, smart looking dark navy suit, bright white collar popping over he edge, like the arm that went around that girl, same as the guy trying to save Blondie.

He’s just sat there calmly, no fear of the height he could fall being on the that ledge, just looking straight ahead at the big glass building opposite.

He’s looking at the dark-haired white girl as well.

Getting closer, ain’t flying up no more, gonna hit this building, getting closer to the girl.

Better not fucking fall.

Closer.

She’s on her cell, looks pissed about something, her cropped dark hair is windswept, jagged but looks intentional.

She’s tired looking, haggard, her hand squishy white looking as she presses on the huge glass as she leans on it.

How is she not throwing up looking out at this height?

Gotta be about thirty stories up now. Butterflies will not quit, edges still blurry, but she’s crystal clear to me.

Getting too damn close, she’s gonna see me and freak out.

Oh man, she’s looking right at me.

Can’t stop… My face pushes up to the glass.

Holy Fuck! I’m passing through it!  

Trippy! Passing straight through her, moving up to the lounge light.

So bright, burning my eyes, everything is blistering white, closing my eyes.

Can hear a Train whistle bellowing out and now… nothing.

Chapter 2

 The Closet

’Fuck off!

No… No Way!

He’s not that smart, there is a small village with a vacancy once he left!’

Gwen Dalton bellows down the phone to her work colleague as she lays clothes out on her unmade bed, the grey and white duvet and pillows messily pulled across the bed to one side to make room for more clothes to go on.

'No way they will promote him, he’s a dick!’ she continued looking on disgusted at a thong she has just found tucked under her bed, covered in dust.

'Eww!' she quietly muttered realizing it was audible enough for the call.

Gwen feels embarrassed even though no one else can see her filthy garment, she throws the dirty thong in to her trash can.

'No, need to take my mind off it, getting rid of some old shit' she says as she hits the light switch beside the pine slatted closet door.

Gwen listen’s on unaware of the slow moving shape, appearing to breath heavily that is outlined in her closet from the small light above, a large figure, bald looking with slight horns protruding from its head, though cannot see it’s face it is watching Gwen as she moves back and forth in front of the closet door carrying her dusty thong.

In the shadowy figure's right hand, he is slowly twitching the huge serrated hunting knife 

‘No, can’t go' she morbidly pauses

 'I want to remember her for who she was, can't think of her like that’ Gwen shakes her head, she then looks at her slumped figure in the mirror pulls her t-shirt up slightly to look at her 30 year old belly that is slightly protruding and sucks it in, correcting her frame at the same time, still unaware of what is waiting in her closet for her ‘plus I got a closet that needs  it’s ass kicked’

Gwen stops admiring herself in the mirror and moves towards the closet, still unseen to her the shadowy figure raises the knife ready to strike, Gwen reaches the handle and then she hears something...

'Fuck No! That's horrible!'

Gwen stops short of opening the door, she is still listening intently to her colleague with her hand still on the closet handle.

She whips it away as she covers her mouth hearing 'Why?’

‘Why would he cut them off?'  Gwen again covers her mouth, distressed at hearing the details.

‘He took them?’

'I can't hear anymore, No! No more!' Gwen throws the phone down on the bed, she hurriedly  walks out of the bedroom, turning the main light off, the Closet glows brighter, the glow sharply outlining the figure waiting for her, but still unseen to the distraught Gwen storming down her hallway to the lounge, she gets halfway down the plain magnolia coloured hall, she stops herself, snapping her fingers.

'Closet'

As she remembers she turns and walks back to her bedroom.

As she enters the doorway a large hand grabs her throat, violently throwing her onto the bed next to her dirty Thong that has been retrieved from the bin, she tries to scream but her mouth is covered by a thick plastic black rubber glove, she sees in front of her yellow cat like eyes glaring at her, enjoying the power over her and a long thick beard of mangled porcupine quills, digging in to Gwen's face as Red Masque moves closer to her.

'Shhhhh, it’ll be over soon, scream it will longer' he rasps at her, Gwen making out a smile through the thick white and yellow quills still digging in to her face and chest.

Red Masque slowly removes his hand from Gwen's mouth, looking her in the eyes as he gently pulls away, Gwen remembers her conversation with her colleague, he took the hands, he took Janice's hands!

'Please don't take my hands' she whimpers to Red Masque, who stops pulling away and drinks in the fear he has pulled from Gwen, the rush that he seeks over all his victims.

'I won't take your hands Gwen' he rasped at her

'I already have a fine pair, what I need Gwen is a Pretty, Pretty Head'

Gwen stares at her killer for the briefest moment, taking in what he had said looking at her with his yellow eyes framed by the red and black make up, as Gwen slowly realizes her fate has been sealed, Adrenalin bursts through her she goes to hit Red Masque, he brushes away her assault, Gwen looks on in horror as he swiftly pulls his knife arm back and feels it rip into her chest as he smashes it down at her, she feels numb, she can feel the warmth of the blood spurting out, flowing over her belly and down her sides.

Red Masque drags her up towards the top of the bed, so she is sat up on the Grey and white Duvet that was thrown to the side, Red Masque looks in to Gwen's eyes as the life is leaving her.

He smells the air around Gwen as the life is seeping away, the blood pooling around her, the clothes she was organizing and the dusty thong turning blacker with the blood flowing over it.

Gwen's fading gaze is taken by something else, someone else stood across the room, another man, middle aged, casually dressed wearing a navy hooded top, he’s stood looking, his face pained as he looks on in horror at Gwen. She can make out I  n his right hand he holds a golden scroll partly opened written across the parchment is the words 'MURDERED’

Gwen's vision is leaving her along with her life she keeps staring at the other man who is not murdering her and weakly asks

'Who are you?'

Red Masque looks at the weak Gwen as he pulls out a Hacksaw he had placed earlier under her mattress.

'I am the one who takes your head'  he plunges the saw blade teeth calmly across her neck ripping deep through the flesh, it gets dark as Gwen sees Red Masque determined face as she feels the saw cut into her neck, she can see the other man is stood frozen still looking away, eyes closed and then Gwen sees... nothing.

 Chapter 2

Mary Beck

 The front of Cedars Hospital is always buzzing this time of the morning, the doctors flock to the front to take their mid-morning break, grabbing a quick smoke for the skinny ones or something sweet and fused with chocolate for the ones that don’t smoke with their compulsory cups of coffee to keep them upright.

 Mary Beck is stood outside the main entrance to Cedars Hospital, she wipes her dark, greasy hair away from her forehead as she pushes the power button on her phone, they don’t allow the use of phones inside the hospital near the equipment, it’s probably horse shit as she saw the nurses with theirs switched on, Mary wants no reason that her father’s machinery fails, it’s been touch and go now for eight days plus she needed some air, it has been so much for her and mom now living in the hospital for 20 hours a day, holding out hope.

Mary perches on the edge of one of the concrete plinths that rest symmetrically along the main path to the hospital, some ‘inspired’ design that is some social art statement that means fuck all to the majority of people that pass it each day she thought, as she sits down on it she jolts due to it being quite hot where the sun has been covering it all morning but not too hot to sit on.  She stares at the screen while it boots up, Mary watches exhaustedly the people outside the hospital, the old man in his navy hospital gown showing a bit too much flesh with his legs open, he grips the pole to his a Air supply, the long clear pipe rig set up going up his nose as he is trying to smoke, the old man wheezing with every puff, still continues as his chubby daughter stands in front of him telling him off.

 The chubby daughter catches Mary looking at them both, believing she is judging them the cuddly daughter stops berating her father to stare at Mary. Mary quickly diverts her eyes away from them, she really couldn’t care about their situation it was just something to look at while the phone takes its time to boot up, Mary's dad Edward smoked but he quit 8 years ago and that should score points with the doctors, right? He has to be better than Darth Vader and his chubby scowling daughter?

They have to be doing all they can for him, the 'Disease' shouldn't take him yet, he is only what 45 years, that's no age as he used to say when people passed away that were 20 years older than he is now. He has good insurance from work they should be able to help him, they will help him.

The Doctors had been nice to Mary and her Mom Beth, Mary had been extra charming with them, being a little flirty? A little maybe, but if it gets Dad out for a few more months, the old dad who was smart and witty, maybe even for another year then what's the harm?

One of the Doctors, center of attention in the trio talking and laughing while taking in some sun (wanting to be seen looking as if they are in intelligent debate and certainly not ogling the talent walking by….) he was dark haired, beautifully even tan and strikingly handsome with his chiseled chin, in his early thirties and stands legs apart and over gesturing with his hands as he tells his lesser looking Adonis colleagues a tale that they are engrossed in.

 He stands on the crisp bright green main lawn soaking in the glorious sun, instead of those horrible fluorescent lights that make everyone look like they are ill (how apt for a hospital Mary thought), if ever there was a place for better, softer more flattering lighting then it was a hospital.

Mary’s phone had still not yet booted up, the handsome doctor gestures his hands and arms even more trying to re-engage Mary, he had spoken to her several times in the past two months and enjoyed looking a hero to most of his patients families but especially to the young attractive daughters and granddaughters or attractive wives, he was not too picky.

The Doctor looks over at Mary, politely nods and gives her a smile keeping his eyes on her, she smiles back. There is no harm in it, the doctor was a know All, a bit of an arrogant dick, but there’s no harm in it, not if it keeps the old man alive.

Mary looked down from the handsome doctors gaze at her phone, she needed to know something, something she had heard her mom mutter earlier in the morning to Uncle Joe, Mary didn't know what it meant, her mom's voice had turned so faint when she said it to Uncle Joe, her whole body shrank and her face cracked as the words came out her mouth.

 For the first time since Dad broke it to Mom and me the devastating news of his disease and what the future will hold for them all, Mary’s mom, normally reserved and elegant, let her guard down for a second time in front of Mary as she broke tears falling so quickly down her cheeks, she quickly pulled herself together again when she saw Mary, but she did not want to tell me what the call meant or what those words meant for dad, Mary Beck will find out what those words meant.

The Screen on Mary's phone bursts into life, she goes straight into Google and searches the words that Mom said to Uncle Joe, well they were not even words, just three letters  that seem to destroy my mother 'D.N.R' Mary types the three letters in, there is no preview window this time which is unusual, she hits search and the most horrifying abbreviation is revealed to Mary Beck that had been scribbled messily across her father's chart by the handsome flirty doctor.

'DO NOT RESUSCITATE'

 Mary stares hard at the answer she has been given, she slumps her shoulders just like her Mom did, She scrolls further down to see if there may be another meaning, she then feels the punch in the gut realizing being nice means fuck all, being flirty does not mean a thing to these little Gods, vain people who hold her father's life in their hands.

‘Do Not Resuscitate (D.N.R) also known as no code or allow natural death, is a legal order written either in the hospital or a Legal form to withhold Cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) or advance cardiac life support (A.C.L.S) for the patient in case their heart were to stop’

The Slumped, distraught and now fiercely pissed off Mary Beck looks angrily at her phone and then scowls at the  doctor and his two colleagues, the handsome tanned dark haired doctors face drops, he has been in this position before, he sheepishly gestures to his colleagues they should come in from the sun, he sheepishly looks at his watch and hurries the other two doctors, they walk past Mary up the walkway of the main hospital entrance, the doctor tries another embarrassing smile in Mary's direction, seeing if there still might be a spark there, even the other two doctors smile at the attractive (though slightly worn looking) Mary.

Mary Beck gives the doctor an even fouler stare, she jumps up from the baking hot concrete plinth and shouts at him 'D.N.R?' the doctors smile falls away and he speeds up his pace 'Yeah, you walk faster' Mary sees a security guard, at least six and a half feet, built like a bull take an interest in her, she can't be thrown out of the hospital, hold it in as he approaches her.

'Everything OK?' the guard asked looking worried he may have a confrontation and does not want to be the black guard holding down a skinny white girl as too many people get involved. Mary nods, still looking pissed but not looking dangerous.

'Do you know what D.N.R means?' Mary throws at the guard he nods

'Yeah, it means 'Doctors not Right’ like when they put that on my Grandfather' he states softly to Mary.

Mary nods in approval of the new acronym, her pissed off face falling away slightly. 'People think Doctors have the power of god' the Guard continued as he stands nearer to Mary, feeling less threatened by her, he glimpses and catches in the corner of his eye a couple of addicts trying to stealthily walk towards the hospital hoping that Mary has distracted him just enough.

The Guard turns and stares at the two of them coldly they both stop walking, they both look back at someone for guidance and then look back at the Guard, Mary enjoys watching the power the guard has over the two skinny, tatty looking hustlers trying to score some meds.

The Guard turns his body slightly towards them, the addicts both raise their hands in acceptance that this mission is doomed to failure and scurry away towards the other third addict who appears from behind the tree trunk who was goading them into doing it, he stops and glares at the Guard who ruined the trio’s plan, the guard stares down, looking dead eyed at the third ones heavily tattoo faced leader, he pouts and calmly about turns as his cohorts come beside him and berate him for not planning their elaborate caper right. Mary smiles at the kind guard as he looks down at her sat on plinth.

‘You see I can be a real bad ass when I want’ the huge guard tells Mary, he sees her smiling at him.

‘A smile looks much better on you’ he looks over again to make sure the trio are still walking in the right direction.

‘Not exactly Ocean's eleven, were they?’ he quips making Mary’s smile slightly bigger.

The Guard returns the smile as he sits next to Mary on the concrete plinth, wincing slightly and sighing as he feels the heat through his trousers

 'They’re just as scared as the rest of us, the docs’ he pulls out a bottle of water from his side pouch taking a sip ‘see them out here all the time in the corners crying or staring at the world as if they carry all its problems’

Mary nods, she would normally be calm if an argument was brewing even at her young age, she would think about the other guys position and point of view and try to imagine what they are feeling and the ‘why’ behind it before starting an argument, but this is different… This is dad and it is his last days, a day that Mary had never imagined coming ‘he can beat this’ was always going no to be the outcome, nothing could take her hero down.

The reality was setting in quickly for Mary, though the sun was making the concrete plinth even hotter and brighter Mary felt a shiver run through her whole body and looks up at the window where her father lies, third down from the top and six windows over to the left.

Mary knew she had to go back. She gets up suddenly from the hot plinth making the Kind security guard jump slightly.

Mary looks at his faded faux gold badge that was slightly leaning to the right.

‘Marvin’ Mary warmly addresses him ‘Thank you for being nice…’ she gently touches his shoulder as again Mary glances up at the window of her Fathers room, she turns and heads towards the hospital entrance. Marvin smiles as he takes another sip of water, he watches as Mary disappears into the hospital entrance.

Marvin nostrils flare as a horrible scent hits them, he turns to see one of the Ocean’s Eleven wannabes again trying to walk past him, this time wearing a hugely oversized faded black overcoat.

‘Really?’ Marvin bellows out loudly at him, the minion stops immediately trying not to make eye contact ‘Is the other guy in there too?’ Marvin chortles to the frozen addict and then looks on in bemusement as the other skinny addict’s feet fall down, he sticks his head out from the filthy tent sized coat looking disappointed they had not arrived bed in the promised land.

Marvin stares for a moment in disbelief at how dumb these two crackers were.

 ‘Get the fuck outta here’ Marvin firmly throws at the pair.

 They both nod frantically and swiftly scurry away again defeated by Marvelous Marvin.

 Chapter 3

The Recently Deceased Edward Beck

The medical chart that hangs at the bottom of a worn, scratched metal framed hospital bed states the last time Edward Beck was assessed by Doctor ‘Handsome’ was 12 hours ago, the further you looked down the chart you could see he was being checked on less and less as he deteriorated.

 Then there was the scribble, careless and shabbily written across the chart ‘D.N.R’ the ‘R’ looking more like a ‘B’ and as far as Elizabeth Beck was concerned the three letters that handed a death sentence to her husband of twenty years, signing off on the last few years of watching the strong, handsome love of her life waste away as his body failed him further each day, his twisted limbs, laying there barely recognizable now.

 A week prior, David Burns  one of Edward’s old work colleagues had come to visit him on hearing Edward may not be long for this World, he embarrassed himself to the hospital staff, accusing the nurse leading him to his friend of being wrong, that this skinny shadow of a man was not Edward ‘the bullet’ Beck, the guy who used to kick his ass in Squash once a week and bounced around the office invigorating the sales team to hit their numbers.

Elizabeth Beck had stopped resting her head on her husband’s chest as she could hear him struggling to breath now, she could sense his struggle for breath and the pain he was in. She runs her fingers through his matted dark brown hair with flicks of grey on the sides and strokes his sweated brow, his skin was looking light yellow and had been for the past week as his liver started playing up , his mouth and jaw was slightly distorted moving slightly as he tried to breath, Edward’s eyes suddenly flicker open for a moment looking directly at Elizabeth Beck giving Her hope he might be lucid for a moment, his eyes quickly close again, he was not in there, the morphine sees to that.. It takes away not only the pain, but also the person inside.

‘It’s OK Ed, I’m here’ Elizabeth whispered to Edward, she strokes his right hand, she couldn’t put her fingers inside his and hold it as it had twisted closed from the illnesses, it had been contorted closed for nearly the last five years.

‘They say death comes when there is silence’ Elizabeth whispers to her husband ‘I’m gonna keep talking to keep you here my handsome man’ she smiled as she stroked his hair again, no flicker of the eyes this time though, the exhaustion of the past few months started hitting Elizabeth Beck and she closed her eyes for a moment.

Edward Beck had been taking long slow breaths for the last few hours, unaided by any life support, that had been taken away two days previous, he had to breath on his own now the doctors informed Elizabeth and Mary Beck in a way cleverly sold to them that he has to ‘stand on his own two feet’ not the fact that it was costing his insurance company too much money to have the round the clock care.

Elizabeth Beck was taking forty winks, Mary was still getting some coffee, berating the doctor’s downstairs and being calmed down by the large calm security guard. The room was lit up through the blinds by the blinding sunlight that heated the concrete plinths outside.  

The door to Edward Beck’s hospital room was closed, the bright sunlight making it warm and comfortable for Elizabeth as she slept, silence filled the room.

Edward takes another huge breath in taking nearly a minute to fill what room is left in his worn lungs as he struggled to suck in the air, the noise was subtle as he tried to breath, then slower and slower, longer and then too long.

Edward Beck’s breathing slowed too much and his lungs could no longer suck in any more air, he was silent and passed away with the love of his life quietly laying her head beside his.

Nearly an hour had passed since Edward Beck had given his last breath in the realm of the living. Mary Beck her emotions even more amplified than before storms into the room back in the mode of being pissed off with the Handsome Doctor again who did an immediate about turn as she came down the corridor to her father’s room, unaware her father had died.

 Mary was startled to see a nurse holding her father's wrist checking for a pulse.

‘How long ago did he pass dear?’ The nurse asked Elizabeth as she gently rests Edward’s arm back down on to the bed.

‘I woke about half an hour ago… It was silent, I should have kept talking…’ Elizabeth Beck was in shock.

‘Why didn’t you come get me?’ the nurse asked her as she put an arm around her to comfort her.

‘Cause you’ll take him away from me’ she replied still looking at her peaceful Edward.

Mary is stood frozen stony silence as she slowly approaches her mother looking at her perfectly still father’s body, the gut punch of losing her dad hits her, she dashes to her mother, falling to her knees to hold her as she breaks into an uncontrollable sobbing. Mary holds her mother and brushes the hand of her father as she cries, she feels the coldness of death in her father’s hand as she tries to hold it.

‘He’s at peace now’ Elizabeth calmly says to Mary to try and put a justification on him passing as she brushes her slightly greasy hair away from her red eyes.

’I want him to be with us’ Mary tries to argue back to her mother, still stroking his cold hand.

The sun bursts even more strongly in to the room slicing it into small sections through the partially open blinds at the far side of the room a man in a hospital gown stands beside the bed, he is disoriented, he feels nauseous but is unable to throw up.

Edward Beck’s spirit (very unaware of his new situation) is stood in the far corner of the room, he still feels feverish and looks on in disbelief at his right hand, he slowly opens and then closes it into a tight fist, he repeats this slowly several times making sure he is not going mad.

‘I’m back!’ Edward thought to himself grinning ear to ear, he looks up for the first time from his now sprightly hand, everything around him is fuzzy, murky, his vision obscured by the bright sunlight bleaching out the room in front of him.

For five long hard years Edward Beck had not been able to use his hand as the illness took, first it was losing the ability to hold a pen, then as his joints slowly pulled on his limbs more and more tightly his ability to walk normally, having to swing his body up a long glassed corridor in front of hundreds of his subordinates looking on each day, for Edward it was mortifying to feel so helpless each day until they found an office nearer the lift entrance on the twelfth floor to accommodate him and save him from doing what Edward felt was a walk of shame.

  Edward had successfully switched to using his left hand, his handwriting nearly as good as it was with his right hand, he practiced as hard as he could to ensure it did not affect him and his work. What Edward did not like while he was able to work were the looks of pity he still would get from his colleagues or catching conversations when he came around the corners of his office, he would hear the sentences ‘What a shame / waste / sad’ etc. that would be used to describe his condition.

As the illness progressed Edward had tried to keep everything as normal as possible at work, Beth would drive him into work in the mornings and he loved the time they had together in the car talking about Mary growing up, when they first met over twenty years ago and how dumb they were back then.

Edward then remembered the tough final conversation he had with his boss James Donahue his mentor for many years, a good leader of people as far as Edward was concerned always listening to what his subordinates and his clients needed, patient caring and more importantly a leader who took action never shying away from the tough decisions.

The ‘toughest’ decision had to make felt like an ambush to Edward when Donahue wanted to have a ‘quick word’ he led Edward to an unfamiliar office near the building entrance, Edward’s Birthday was coming up soon, he was expecting a ‘surprise’ cake and crowd of colleagues to greet and sing to him, instead it was Bella one of the Human Resource robots that Edward had seen hover around the poor performers and oxygen thieves in the team previously who were then never seen again.

‘Ed, we need to have a difficult conversation’ Donahue spat out embarrassingly at Edward as he gestured him to sit down, he was looking at Edwards fully closed and twisted hand as he sat in sequence with a tearful Edward and Bella.

That was Edward’s last day of work with the firm he had been with for over ten years, it was a good package to leave with and health care still covering him, but that was the first day of Edward’s illness accelerating as far as he was concerned.

Edward was in shock, tearful as he went up to his office holding the empty box in his good hand, Bella helped to put all his awards, photos with his teams and family into the box.

Edward understood it was the right thing, but it felt brutal

Edward Beck kept staring at his right hand, it’s miraculous sudden change from a permanently closed fist to him being cured. The sun quickly dimmed as a thick grey cloud started to cloak over it, the rest of the room slowly became very clear to Edward, he gazed at Elizabeth and Mary beside the bed next to some thin, gangly person laying in front of them.

‘Beth!’ an excitable Edward calls out to his wife, she does not look up.

Edward is surprised by the lack of her response.

‘Beth!’ Still no movement

‘BETH!!’ Edward shouts at her, she does not look up, Edward looks at his tearful daughter, his pride for twenty years.

‘Mary?’  Edward calls in a quieter more normal tone to his daughter. Mary does not look up, she keeps looking at the person on the bed.

‘I’ll give you both a moment’ the nurse says to the two grieving women as she walks towards the door.

‘Nurse?’ Edward whispered inquisitively at her as she walks towards the door, he raises his now perfectly working right hand to catch her attention, she doesn’t give him even a glance as she blankly passed by the confused Edward and out the door, quietly closing it behind her.

Edward stares at the two most important people in his life, he then looks at the bed, not recognizing straight away the person laying there. He takes one step closer to the bed and sees the dirty stringy leather friendship band on his wrist that Mary gave him ten years prior when they were in a flea market while on vacation in Cancun, Edward never liked it, the bracelet didn’t go with anything he wore as he was more a ‘suits and comfortable knitwear-guy’ not a bleach blond surfer dude, but his Princess bought it so he had to wear it.

Edward looks further up from the left hand of the sliver of a person laying on the bed and sees His wife still in shock comforting Mary as she is holding the contorted limb that was this poor bastard’s right hand.

‘Oh God…’ Edward splutters as he realizes it is him laying on the bed, the dark cloud outside envelopes the bright sun even more making the room much more visible and the scene before him clearer.

Edward stares at the gangly lifeless body that Beth and Mary grieve beside, he slumps as it hits him, like the time in that side office when he was being let go times infinity, his right hand starts to shake, tearful Edward looks over at his wife she is looking up towards the door but straight through him.

‘Beth?’ He mutters again, Edward doesn’t hear the door open behind him, the room suddenly felt darker, colder and strange quiet descended on Mary and Beth, there seemed to be no sound at all. Edward felt a shudder and felt a presence standing close behind him staring into the back of his head.

Beth looked back down and held Mary tighter, Edward slowly turned and saw a towering figure hunched over, this terrifying figure had no problem seeing Edward, he was gazing right at him.

Chapter 4

Silence

The Quiet Man was just over seven feet tall, his pale thin powdery white face looking only at Edward, his long bony pale hands hang from the sleeves of his immaculate black suit, black shirt with a slight purple in color bow tie and  matching silk pocket tissue perfectly folded out, Edward was not looking at his perfectly cut suit, he was looking directly at The Quiet Man’s eyes, completely black including his sciera with a blacker iris and his pupil’s barely visible.

The Quiet Man cast his shark like gaze across the room at Elizabeth and Mary, taking in their sorrow for a moment, he then looks at the lifeless body of Edward Beck and goes to move in closer.

Edward moves between his grieving family obscuring The Quiet Mans view, he looks down at Edward in disbelief that someone would challenge his authority.

‘I don’t know who you think...’ Edward started to spout at The Quiet Man who raises his right hand in front of Edward and then loudly clicks his fingers the noise reverberates around the room but only Edward hears this decibel shattering click, He tries to finish the sentence but his voice falls away, he tries to shout at the looming figure in front of him…

Nothing.

The Quiet Man turns his gaze back to the two women inquisitively taking in their grief. Edward again jumps in front of The Quiet Man he screams at him ‘leave them alone’ but those words do not leave Edward, he tries desperately to turn attention away from Beth and Mary he starts clapping his hands frantically at The Quiet Man, again not a sound is heard in either realm.

As Edward keeps clapping The Quiet Man now bored of his petulance grabs Edward’s perfectly right hand, his immense strength stopping Edward immediately, Edward tries to push away from the Shark eyed pale man, his right hand stays motionless and he does not budge The Quiet Man, Edward realizes he is woefully underpowered.

The Quiet Man pulls Edward to his side, the door of the hospital room opens as the handsome doctor enters with his two back up colleagues to call Edward’s time of death. Edward sees Mary go to push the handsome doctor away from her dad’s body and then stop herself remembering her talk with the friendly security guard earlier.

Edward looks as the handsome doctor, who asks both Beth and Mary sheepishly ‘would you like to wait outside?’ As he picks up the poorly scribbled chart from the bottom of his death bed, they both shake their heads and hold each other, as the doctor looks at his watch The Quiet Man pulls Edward out of the door, he catches one last glimpse of his wife and daughter between the other two doctors and enters the corridor of the busy hospital, again Edward tries to talk to The Quiet Man.

‘Wait!’ Edward tries to shout pulling back fruitlessly on The Quiet Mans arm, again there is no sound, Edward frantically tries to alert the duty nurse as he is pulled past her desk.

Edward hits the Quiet Man on his arm, he stops.

Edward realizes he may have just pissed off this super strong freaky looking giant.

The Quiet Man turns lowers himself towards Edward matching his eye level, Edward freezes as The Quiet Man puts his long grey bony fingers to his lips and lets out a long ‘shhhhh’ Edward is petrified that this may do something further to him, worse than making him mute, thank fully It doesn’t.

The Quiet Man straightens his gangly frame, he nods for Edward to keep moving and continue their walk.

 As they move further down the corridor another Nurse is walking the same path directly towards Edward, this was his chance as she approached Edward tried to speak, she does not slow down as she gets closer, Edward realizes she is about to walk into him, Edward braces for her to impact into him, however it is much more worse, the Nurse's face melts into Edward’s face he sees her eyes, then her brain, the back of her grey skull and then…Daylight… Trees… Flowers… An old two storey building and to the left-hand side of the building, a large gap, about twenty foot be to thirty feet wide and stood there a quaint looking Blue train carriage that looked like it was part of something bigger but hidden from Edward’s view.

Edward Beck realizes he has left the hospital building and was now much further away from his family, much further away than he has ever been before.

Chapter 5

The Station

The Quiet Man led Edward to a worn Bench that was situated opposite an old red brick two storey  building and gestured Edward to sit down, as Edward stepped towards the bench He realized his hospital gown was gone and in its place he was wearing Dark boot cut jeans, black sneakers, dark navy t-shirt and a navy hooded top with bright white pull strings, his casual weekend wear shopping at Home Depot.

Edward tries again to speak but is still silent, he tries to mouth ‘how’ about his new apparel to The Quiet Man who frowns at him and then clicks his fingers.

Edward can now hear the noise of the Birds around him and the sound of his footsteps in his new sneakers.

I should try to speak thought Edward, maybe something profound to the gangly looking cue ball headed asshole that dragged him to this weird old looking train station?

The Quiet Man again gestures more firmly towards the bench to him.

‘You want me to wait here?’ Edward was able to say loudly and clearly at The Quiet Man, who nods, he then turns and walks towards the Large platform entrance.

As he walks away Edward mutters to himself ‘Sure I’ll take a load off… Good Talk’ The Quiet Man stops walking, Edward sits down swiftly on the bench to show he is complying, The Quiet Man pauses for moment, he then resumes his journey across the small road that runs  in front of the  station.

Edward looks around the Front of the Station, it looked like something from the 1930’s, Flowers surrounded the area, hanging baskets full of them, either side of the bench bright yellows, Reds and purples filled the area. The old building had a worn cream coloured sign stating ‘GIFT SHOP’ that had all sorts of bric-à-brac, mugs, postcards, sweets and hats in the window and in stalls and spindly turnstiles outside the door.

It didn’t look as if it was open, Edward couldn’t see anyone working in there through the shop window.

Hey, maybe this was Heaven and they ran some form of celestial honor system Edward thought to himself?

The Quiet Man has disappeared, Edward could see from his seated position looking across through the wide platform entrance an old iron stair case that had flaky Green paint, it crossed from the platform above the Blue Train that was waiting at the Station over to what must be another platform.

Edward felt the urge to get up and explore, he then remembered how quickly The Quiet Man took his voice and did not want to know what else he was capable of.

Edward looked again over through the wide platform entrance and could make out the top of The Quiet Man’s pale bald dome glide along as he crossed the worn looking flaky green iron bridge.

Edward was so distracted by the Quiet Man’s journey he was completely oblivious to the man stood behind him.

‘EDWARD BECK!’ a voice exclaimed with authority just behind Edward who jolts, startled by the sudden unexpected bleating of his name.

Edward quickly turned to see an immaculately dressed black man in his late fifties smiling at him. Edward sized up the smart figure stood in front of him, he was drinking coffee from a mug that had ‘World’s Best Mum’ written across it, one of those joke mugs that you would never pull out for guests if they stopped by for a quick coffee as it would be too embarrassing.

His navy tailored suit was as sharply cut as The Quiet Man, he wore a waistcoat with a bright white shirt, however there was no tie for this guy, but he did have a neat white handkerchief in his breast pocket.

‘I’m Bud’ he gleamed a wide smile at Edward as he shakes his hand.

‘Why…’ Edward starts to ask as he reluctantly shakes Bud’s hand.

‘Why are you here Ed?’ Bud quickly chips in.

Edward nods slowly at Bud, still disoriented.

‘Am I…’ Edward starts his next pertinent question

‘Late for work?’ Bud chips in.

‘Yep, you’re a little late, but don’t worry we have time’ Bud keeps his gleaming smile at Edward, something given any other circumstance would have been infectious.

‘Dead?’ Edward finally said the words he needed to get out.

‘Dead, Ed?’ quickly fired back Bud ‘as a Dodo my friend’

Edward slumps.

‘I may need to soften how I express that’ quickly added Bud.

‘You are now a Boatman Ed’ Bud quickly followed up.

Edward looks up at Bud confused even more ‘A what?’

‘A Boatman’ Bud calmly retorts as if he had just told Edward the most normal thing in the World, like what’s for lunch.

‘Is this some morphine trip I’m on?’ Edward fires back at Bud.

‘Nope’ Bud straightens his composure, annoyed that Edward does not feel privileged in his new role.

‘So even in death, I have work?’ Edward exclaimed shaking his head, he stands up from the bench and stares around the station, still slowly shaking his head.

‘Yep’ Bud shoots back. Edward stops shaking his head and turns looking at Bud like he has an amazing idea, instead of the poor one he was about to present.

‘What if I say no?’ Edward smiles embarrassingly defiant at Bud.

‘You don’t wanna say ‘No’ to this Ed’ Bud calmly and coldly states.

The Blue Train slowly starts to pull away from the station as Edward stares at Bud, thinking where to go with his words.

‘Why?’ Edward argues back ‘What’s the worst that can happen than being dead?’

Bud turns to the station entrance, the last carriage of the Blue Train pulls away revealing on the far platform a Red Train, it’s uncared for paint work peeling all over, windows smeared with thick grease, partially visible in spots through them.

Bud gestures to the Red Train with one nod,  The Quiet Man descends down the stairs of the Green iron bridge crossing  the tracks, Edward takes a step forward to get a closer look at the Red Train and hears a distant scratching sound, he takes a further step forward fascinated by this sight in front of him, thick black smoke from the front engine flows across the  soot drenched roof of the carriages, spilling a thinner coating down the sides of the train, across the tracks and peep over the edge of the platform where the Blue Train once stood.

As Edward takes a step nearer to the platform entrance the scratching sound increases in noise and frequency suddenly a deep raspy voice exclaims ‘BETRAYER!’ at Edward who jolts at the voice coming from the Red Train, it was not Bud or The Quiet Man who spoke.

Edward takes back his brave steps forward very quickly to stand nearer to Bud. Edward feels fear creep over him as he starts to make out a large shape in the main window of the Red Train carriage, it looked like a huge bear stood upright, but with wider shoulders, strong looking defined arms and long, long fingers could be made out on one of its hands that was near the window.

Whatever that shape was, it was breathing heavily, Edward watched as it moved up and down slowly as it breathed and could feel that the dark shape had a very unhealthy interest in Edward.

Edward watches the shape as he takes a further step back, he turns and smiles at Bud.

‘When do I start?’

TO BE CONTINUED…

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