THE UNDERTAKER and other Macabre Tales

PROOF

There were no lights in the sky last night. Arthur remembered that. It was strange how the mind recalled meaningless, minuscule details but found it difficult to remember important ones. Like dates. Arthur could never remember dates. He'd forgotten his sister's birthday once. Or was it twice now? It didn't matter. But as Arthur pulled to a stop on the side of the road, reaching his destination, he remembered looking up into the sky, and thinking it strange that there was no stars.

Tucked safely off to the side of the street, Arthur opened a bottle of pills and slipped one between his lips. He'd been suffering from back aches the last couple of years. Part of getting old. He'd been to the doctor a few times, and they suggested he try various exercises, none of which helped. So he'd taken to self medicating. It was simple at first. Advil. Tylenol. Then the pain got worse. And he'd needed something stronger. Percocet was the next step, he'd found a doctor willing to prescribe it. He shouldn't still be taking them, part of him knew this. The other part didn't care. It craved the relief that came from the pills. They became the best part of his day. The one thing he had to look forward to. They were his secret. They helped him stay calm. He washed the pill down with water. He'd need it, if he was going to get through the night.

Last week he'd received an invitation. One of his colleagues, Marco Ward, a professor of Theology, had invited him to his home for an evening of "intellectual conversation and stimulation." At the bottom of the letter were printed the words 'This will be a night you'll never forget.' It reminded him of the mysterious invitations people often received in movies. Like a murder mystery in an Agatha Christie novel.

Arthur had only met Ward briefly, once or twice at faculty mixers. Arthur was a linguist, so their paths did not often cross, but his impression of Ward was that he was level headed, at least as far as theology professors went. But that wasn't why he accepted the invitation. No, the reason Arthur decided to make an appearance was to satisfy his own curiosity. The invitation was so mysterious and vague. Ward had been on sabbatical for the last semester. Word had it that he was traveling abroad. But no one seemed to know what he was doing. Coupled with the invitation, Arthur hoped to be among the first to learn what dear, old Ward was really doing. If he found that nothing interesting was happening, he could always excuse himself.

Arthur climbed the steps to Ward's secluded home and rang the doorbell. Several other cars were already parked along the street, and Arthur was glad he wasn't the first to arrive. He'd planned to arrive late. Wanting to avoid as much awkward small talk as possible. Though undoubtedly, that was what would consume most of his evening. He smiled at his own immaturity.

Footsteps could be heard, and a moment later Ward's smiling face was greeting him. Ward had a beard now, grown during his travels. But beyond that, he was the same man Arthur remembered. Thinning hair. Round glasses. And he was always wearing a tie.

"Welcome, Arthur," Ward shook Arthur's hand vigorously. What's he so excited about, Arthur thought, you'd think we were old friends, from the way he's acting. "Thank you so much for coming. I promise you won't regret it."

"My pleasure." Arthur stepped inside, removing his coat.

"Ah. The others are waiting for us in here. If you'd just follow me."

Arthur followed Ward into the adjacent room. Ward's dining room, by the looks of it. A large table was the centerpiece. Seated around the table were two other people, both of whom, Arthur recognized. They were fellow professors at the college. Fernanda Victor, from the Psychology department, and Ross, also from Theology.

Just two? Arthur tried to hide his disappointment, though he knew he was failing miserably. Early turn out wasn't nearly as good as he had hoped.