Sometimes, there's just a crazy random happenstance that can influence the entire way a day will end. Something weird. Something different. Something unique. Sometimes It's just a tweak to a daily schedule, and sometimes there's a wild change of plans. That one event. Suddenly everything is different.
That one day. June 21. A Tuesday. The sun was shining, and I was curled up on the couch in my basement, watching Serenity and eating a tub of ice cream. Kris was asleep next to me, her head resting on my chest and a loud snore echoing from her open mouth.
"I am a leaf on the-"
I couldn't take it. I gently lowered Kris's head onto the couch and went upstairs, taking them two at a time to avoid the sounds of impalement behind me. I grabbed a can of Pringles from the top of the fridge and popped open a Dr. Pepper. As I turned to head back downstairs, something down the hall caught my eye. There was a man.
He was intimidating, I'll give him that. He was in all black, with a heavy leather trench coat and an enormous onyx and silver scythe slung across his back. There was a bulky hourglass in his gloved hand. Most of the sand was in the bottom. I tried to look at his face, but he had a heavy hood up that shrouded his features in darkness.
"Hey," I called out.
OH, UM. HEY THERE.
His voice didn't seem to come from any vocal chords. It echoed and bounced around my head, like boulders rolling down a cliff and crushing a family of four on a road trip in their minivan to Walt Disney World.
"You, uh. You lost? Cuz this is kinda, you know, my house."
YES, I KNOW. BY ANY CHANCE WOULD YOU KNOW WHERE GRIFFITH ROAD IS?
"A couple blocks that way." I pointed west. "Why?"
I HAVE AN APPOINTMENT I MUST KEEP.
"Riiiight..." Kris came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me.
"Who's that?"
I AM FREQUENTLY CALLED DEATH. BUT YOU CAN CALL ME PHILLIP. IT'S WHAT MY MOTHER NAMED ME.
"Phillip?" Kris and I were both surprised.
YES, PHILLIP. IS THAT SUCH A BAD NAME FOR THE REAPER OF SOULS?
"No, it's, um, very fitting. You certainly look like a Phillip." I tried to get a better look at the hourglass in Phillip's gloved hand, but he quickly shoved into a pocket inside his trench coat. Strangely, there were no bulges.
I SUPPOSE I SHOULD BE GOING NOW.
"Yes, that would probably be best."
Phillip turned and walked to the front door, letting himself out and shutting the door behind him. Kris and I looked at each other.
"Henry, what the hell did we just see?"
"I have no clue. Let's go finish the movie." As we turned to go back downstairs, there came a loud knock at the door. We both looked at it. I approached carefully and pulled it open. Phillip was standing there on the porch, doing his best to look sheepish.
THERE'S JUST ONE, UM, SMALL DILLEMA. MY HORSE RAN AWAY, SO IS THERE ANY WAY YOU COULD DRIVE ME TO 3219 GRIFFITH ROAD? I'M SURE I CAN MAKE IT WORTH YOUR WHILE.
I sighed heavily. "Yeah, okay. Let me grab your keys." I told Kris what was going on, and then all three of us climbed into my Cadillac Escalade to drive Phillip to his appointment. As we pulled up to the building, I groaned. It was a retirement home.
"This is where you've got an appointment?"
YES. WITH A, here Phillip pulled the hourglass out of his coat and peered at it, JEREMIAH OLIANDER. I'M DUE FOR A VISIT.
I grew silent as Kris interjected. "Woah, woah, woah. Jeremiah Oliander? That's my grandfather. There's no way you've got an appointment with him, he's only a hundred and sixteen. And he's fit as all hell. He can still do more chinups than Henry and I combined.
AND THAT'S, WHAT, TWELVE? MAYBE?
"Okay," I said. "No need to be a dick, Phillip."
JUST STATING AN OBSERVED FACT.
Kris crossed her arms angrily. "The point is, you're not taking my grandad. And there's nothing you can do about that." She clicked a button and the doors locked.
ARE YOU SHITTING ME? Phillip struggled to pull the lock up to open the door, but his gloved fingers were too thick to get a good grip. YOU GUYS ARE GONNA GET ME FIRED. IF OLIANDER DOESN'T COME WITH ME, THEN FATHER TIME IS GONNA THROW A BITCH FIT.
"Well, maybe then you won't take people's grandpas, eh, Phillip?"
I COULD JUST HARVEST YOUR GUYS' SOULS RIGHT HERE. IT'S NOT AS HARD AS YOU MIGHT THINK, AND IT'S A HELLUVA LOT MORE PAINLESS THAN GETTING YOUR WISDOM TEETH TAKEN OUT.
"Go ahead and get that scythe out, buddy. Just go on and try."
Phillip tried for a few seconds, but the scythe was too bulky to get out in the backseat of my car. FUCK YOU GUYS. HOW ABOUT WE MAKE A DEAL. YOU DRIVE ME ACROSS TOWN FOR MY NEXT APPOINTMENT, WHO HAS ABSOLUTELY NO RELATION TO EITHER OF YOU, AND I WON'T HARVEST YOUR SOULS NOR THOSE OF ANY WHO LOVE FOR THE NEXT FIFTY YEARS. DEAL?
"Sure, why the fuck not?" I turned the car around and followed Phillip's instructions to another old folks' home. When he got out, we headed back to our house.
Fifty years later, Kris and I were sitting on the couch cuddling. She and I had definitely grown older and wiser, but our bodies were no different. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. We both went up, and I opened it. There was a man in a dark hood and black trench coat with an enormous scythe in one hand and a pair of hourglasses in the other. A large silver-haired horse stood in our yard.
IT'S TIME, MY FRIENDS.
