Day Twenty

Lucy prayed so long and so often that she fell asleep on her knees. Alfie wasn’t much of a praying man but he sure did spend a lot of time willing Nathan to open his eyes. Alfie couldn’t imagine why Tom had given up on Julie. There had to be hope, right? Medical miracles happened all the time.

Nathan’s recent behaviour was an oddity. As he kid, he was organised but not overly so. Certainly Nathan was not one for home decorating.

And then there was the whole Clarice thing. If his reckoning were true, in a few days she would find his body and raise the alarm. He hoped she would also see to it that he would have a good send off. Nothing grand as he felt he really didn’t deserve it but just enough to let his few remaining friends and family members know he had passed.

Alfie was just about to go through a portal that had appeared in his bathroom when there was a sucking noise and his old childhood friend Steven dropped in.

Steven looked like a slightly older version of his childhood self. He had filled out of course but there was no trace of the injuries that had ended his life so prematurely. It made sense of course—he wasn’t walking around with his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

“Alfie,” said Steven as a means of greeting.

“Steve!” Alfie said a bit more warmly. “How the devil are you?”

“Well, you know, I’m dead and have been so for quite a long time.”

“I remember when you died,” Alfie told him. “I was at your funeral and I paid my respects. There were plenty of times in my life that I missed your company.”

“At least you got to have kids,” he said sadly. “I died too young.”

Alfie was at a loss as to what to say in light of his recent reflections. “You know my Nathan had an accident similar to yours,”

“I know,” said Steven, “I showed him how to get out.”

“You what?” Alfie asked, shocked.

“I showed him the path back to life,” Steven shrugged.

Once again, Alfie was speechless. “Steven I don’t know what to say,”

“Thank you might be a start,” teased Steven.

“Thank you Steven,” said Alfie with genuine gratitude. “So is that what you do then? You show people who are trapped the way out?”

“Only if I think they will be better for it. And I can tell you—despite what you’ve been thinking—Nathan is better with a second chance. He got better and he’s going to get even better.”

“I sincerely doubt it,” Alfie said sadly. “Something’s wrong. I don’t know. Maybe it has to do with the accident.”

The sucking sound came and Alfie and Steven found themselves in Julie’s room.

“Ah, she’s a goner for sure,” Sarah was saying at Julie’s bedside. She was looking at Julie as if examining her for flaws.

Alfie sucked in his breath in shock, suddenly angry at Sarah’s lack of sensitivity. Lucy only watched Beth, gently giving her daughter a bed bath.

“I suspect you boys should make yourselves disappear,” Sarah ordered sharply.

Alfie, Steven and Ivan nodded and walked out to the living room where Tom had helped himself to a measure of dark amber liquid.

“Yuk,” said Steven, “I wasn’t on earth long enough to develop a taste for it.”

To swirled the contents of his glass and held it up to the light before knocking it back. He grimaced and poured himself another one.

“I don’t imagine getting drunk is a way to resolve the situation,” Ivan said.

The three of them sat down on the sofa. Steven poked at the remote and the screen with all the dots came on. Several were flashing red and even more green dots appeared.

“Hospital’s busy with births tonight,” said Steven, cocking his head at the screen. “And it looks like a few deaths too.”

Alfie was glad they weren’t there.

“Uh-oh,” said Ivan, pointing. “I think we had better check on Nathan!”

 

Nathan was slumped in his sofa again with the phone in hand. The mess that had been there when Persephone had arrived was cleared to a positively glorious finish but there were little signs all was not well. The tins of paint that had purchased only a few days before had been allowed to harden into an useable mess with the paint rollers stuck to the pans. There were tell-tale signs of take-out meals and excessive cola consumption as well. Worse, the cats were back, fighting with each other, walking all over the garbage that had accumulated after only a few days and peeing all over the place.

“Maybe he should get a dog,” said Alfie, nodding to Persephone.

“Really,” said Persephone as if offended.

Steven walked over to where Nathan was slouched and had a good look at him. He peered into the empty containers and looked around in the kitchen. He looked in Nathan’s transformed bedroom, the bathroom and then came back to meet the others.

“I think Nathan could do with a visit from Clarice,” he said simply. “and by the way, not to alarm anyone, we should probably check on Clarice and Brandon.”

 

By the time Clarice had knocked on Brandon’s door, he had had a chance to tidy himself up and more or less recuperate from shock. With the blood washed from his wounds and a fresh change of clothes, the only thing that indicated he had been injured was the rather gruesome lump in the centre of his forehead.

He was just about start sweeping up the glass when Clarice had arrived.

“Oh!” she said when she saw Brandon’s lump. “Oh!” she said again as he was about to start sweeping up the glass. “Let me!”

Brandon plopped himself down on the overstuffed chair and watched Clarice. Like Alfie, he didn’t mind watching her from behind. It took his mind off of Janie.

“Thank you for coming out to me,” he said as she swept up the final shards. “Now that I think about it, I’m glad we didn’t have to call the whole evening off.”

“You would not believe the day I had,” she said coming back into the room. She thought about telling him about the gunshot but then decided it was best not to. After all he had also had a bad day. “You should board that up so no one can come in.”

“Well, as it’s the third floor balcony I think we’re pretty safe.”

“Of course,” she said reddening just a little on the edges.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her. “We could get something delivered.”

Clarice eyed the lump suspiciously. “That looks bad,” she told him.

“I’m better now,” he told her. “It’s not so bad.” But as he stood, he faltered. He sat back down.

“I think you should get checked out,” she told him.

“It’s just a little knock to the head. I’ve had lots of those in my lifetime.”

Clarice looked at his pupils. She couldn’t be one hundred percent certain but they looked a little dilated. “I’m calling an ambulance,” she announced.

“No no,” said Brandon. “I don’t want to cause a fuss.”

“I take it you don’t want to be dead or brain damaged either,” she countered. “Besides, relax. I happen to know a paramedic who would glad of something to do.”

 

On the screen, red dot flashed again.

“Brandon?” Ivan asked Steven.

“Indeed,” he answered.

“Bad?”

“Oh I think he’ll live but you’re going to have to re-think about your contrived romance between him and Clarice.”

“Oh?”

“Just watch,” said Steven with a smile.

 

Marvin was just about at the stage of his corpulence when he had started to develop a waddle. The material of his jeans between his legs chafed uncomfortably and if he wasn’t mistaken had evolved into a hole. His mother was not going to be happy about this. She had already told him off for eating junk food and it was just a matter of time before she worked out he had been helping himself to her beers as well.

As he waddled his way down the corridor, someone threw an empty bottle at his head. Had he roared down the corridor and pounded the offender into submission, it may have put an end to the situation. But Marvin was in no condition to roar anyway. He imagined that if he even tried to road, it would only attract more laughs and more random attacks. So he brushed the incident off, hung his head and carried on walking—straight into the girl of his dreams. Her books went flying and Marvin was so shocked, his eyes connected with hers and for a few seconds, neither was able to break was contact.

“Bingo!” shouted Ivan. “The Love Doctor scores again!” he punched the air in victory.

“Pffft,” said Steven. “They got a long way to go.”

“I’d say,” Sarah added belligerently. “Like a couple hundred pounds to go.”

If Alfie had been alive, his ears would have started to burn. He would have turned to this woman and maybe slapped her just hard enough so she would come to her sense and realise how awful she was being.

“Sarah,” he said.

“Oh what, Alfie? Hasn’t anyone ever told that big lug of lard he needs to lose a little weight?”