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A Question of Mortality
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Written by Jessie Johnson
Saturday, 11 April 2009 00:00 |
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A Question of Mortality By Jessie Johnson
The Out of Town diner sat 8 miles outside of Holbrook, a backwater, hole in the wall town with a population of 3,583 located smack dab out in the middle of West Texas nowhere with the closest semblance of civilization being 100 miles away. Calvin Lang started working here since he was sixteen and in Holbrook High. That was seven years ago. While the majority of his friends had left for college to trade their little town life for the big city right after graduation, he chose to stay in Holbrook. Its not that he had no aspirations for better things, Calvin enjoyed the simple life that a small town had to offer. The fever of adventuring away and leaving behind the former way of life for something bigger never hit Calvin like it did the others. Oh sure, he made trips to the larger places like El Paso, Ft. Stockton, and San Antonio a couple of times, but though it was nice to visit, he always felt more comfortable in Holbrook. His grades were good, he could have went to just about any university or college he chose but he just did not feel the need to leave.
Calvin was cleaning off the grill in the back while Anna dried off the silver ware and put them away. They were the only two employees left in the dinner. There wasn’t no need to have more than two people on duty during the middle of the week. At 8 o’clock on a Wednesday it wasn’t like they were about to get a rush. Of course being 20 miles from the nearest freeway insured quiet times. Occasionally they would get the straggling traveler that got themselves lost and would stop in for a bite to eat and some directions. As soon as she was finished, Anna would take off for the evening. This fall she would be taking off permanently for Baylor U were she will start her freshman year in medicine. She planned on becoming a doctor with additional plans of coming back here to take over her Uncle’s practice. Finishing the last of the forks, Anna took of her apron and went to the back to clock out. “I’m gone Calvin.”
“Ok Anna, you have a good evening.”
“You too.” Leaving out the front door she headed for her Mazda. That left Calvin to take care of anyone who decided to come in for a late dinner or a snack and close up by himself. Not that it bothered him. He had been closing up for the past three years. Besides he was off the next two days. Calvin had volunteered to work the evening shift after the old cook, Sam, had fallen and gotten hurt. Every now and then Sam would come in to help out on the busy times like Saturday evening and Sunday when the diner opened up after church.
Calvin just finished off the grill when he heard the front door open. In walked a man wearing cowboy boots, blue jeans, a red checkered western shirt, and a cowboy hat with the brim hanging low so it was hard to see the man’s eyes. Despite the warm West Texas weather, he also sported a blue jean jacket. Instead of picking one of the ten booths that lined the windows at each side of the door the stranger took a seat at the long counter. Calvin came around from the back figuring since they didn’t get that many strangers here, the man must be needing directions. “How you doing this evening sir? We don’t get many strangers here and those that do happen along are usually lost. Did you need directions or can I get you anything?”
The stranger didn’t look up at Calvin nor said a word. The way he just sat there and not speaking or looking up made Calvin nervous.
“Sir, you ok?” The stranger raised his head up a little but slowly.
“I’m fine and I am not lost. I am exactly where I want to be at the moment. And yes I do want something. What’s your name, boy?”
“Calvin. Calvin Lang.”
“Well, Calvin Lang, you asked what I want. What I want is to ask you a question. Though it is a small one it will probably be the hardest question you have ever answered in your entire life. Ready?”
“Umm…yeah, sure,” he said, the feeling of nervousness increasing a little more.
“Can you give me one good reason why I should not kill you?”
Of all the questions Calvin expected, this was definitely not one of them. How do I get back to the free way? Do you know so and so in town? Is there a garage open? How far to the next gas station? Any one of these he was prepared for. Common questions he had answered a dozen times. But this one he was not prepared for. To stunned to answer he stood there slack jawed. This has to be some kind of joke. Someone he knew in town knows this man, a relative perhaps; someone put him up to this to have a little fun. He had to swallow a couple of times before he could actually make a sound.
Opening his mouth to speak his voice cracked. Clearing his throat, Calvin tried again.
“Sir, is this some kind of joke? Who put you up to this? I don’t think it is very funny.”
“No one put me up to this. And you shouldn’t think this is funny at all unless you don’t place any value on your life.” Reaching behind inside his jacket the stranger’s right hand pulled out a silver Smith and Wesson .357 magnum with a four inch barrel with a thin orange stripe on the front sight.
“Oh crap!” Calvin jumped back against the counter behind him knocking over a stack of plastic glasses and sending two plates to floor where they shattered. His heart thundered in his chest. Nervousness done moved out and fear moved right in to fill the vacancy. He couldn’t tear his eyes off the gun nor could he control his breathing. His legs shook and felt as if they would give out on him any moment.
“If…if…if your looking to rob me I’ll give you every cent in the store and what I have in my wallet. Just…just don’t…” Calvin couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I don’t want your money. I didn’t come here to rob you. I told you what I wanted. What time do you close up?” The man placed the gun back where he pulled it from, not once did he point it at Calvin. There was no need. Just the sight of the thing got across the seriousness of the situation.
“Ah…11 o’clock.
“Well, I tell you what Calvin. It is now 8:30. You have until 11 to answer my question. If you have not answered my question by then, I will leave your brains all over behind this counter. If you try to make a run for the back door I will kill you before you even set one foot into that kitchen. If you believe you can incapacitate me or get by me then please feel free to do so, though I don’t think you would like the results. If someone comes in here and you warn them, I will kill them. Please feel free to answer my question any time between now and 11. If I do not like it then I will tell you and you will have to try again. If I do like your answer then I will leave and you remain alive. If you wait till 11 to answer me and I don’t like it I will kill you. You have two and a half hours of life left. I suggest you use them wisely.”
Calvin’s mind was a maelstrom. Just a few minutes ago his life was normal; going about his business like he always did for the past seven years and now tonight in just a matter of a few minutes his entire life is now measured in two and a half hours. Things like this don’t happen here. In a big city, yeah, but not here. And now his life hinges on an question that he doesn’t even know how to begin to answer.
The stranger raised his head to look at the clock to his left and lowered his head back down not even giving Calvin a second glance. Calvin turned his back on the man and leaned on the back counter. Gotta think. Come on Calvin. Answer the man’s question and he will go away. He didn’t know why or how but he knew that the man will stand up to his end of the bargain and let him live. Just answer the damn question and he will go away. But what am I supposed to say? What does he want to hear? He did say that he would tell me if he approved of the answer or not. So what does he want to hear?
Looking over at the clock, the very clock he used to tell him when it was time to close up now measured his life, read 8:45 With each movement of the second hand was one second gone in his life.
“You can’t kill me because I have family, friends, loved ones. Think about what that would do to them.”
“So does every other person in the world. That does not make you any more special than anyone else. That answer is not acceptable. Try again.”
The front door opened. “Hey, Calvin. I forgot my cell phone.”
Oh damn, Anna. He glanced down at the space behind the front counter where Anna always placed her things and there it was sure enough, her cell phone. Why couldn’t I have noticed that earlier? While he was laying out the last instructions to my life I could have turned the volume all the way down and dialed 911 and leave an open line.
Anna walked behind the counter and not paying any attention to the person sitting at the counter grabbed her cell phone.
“Hey, you ok, Calvin?”
“I’m…fine.” Go away, Anna, please go away.
“You sure? Your sweating really bad. You don’t feel good?” Her head turned slightly to see the stranger at the counter and then back at Calvin.
No, no, no. Just leave.
She tilted her head to the side. That’s when the explosion sounded. Anna stiffened as the bullet tore through her right side, straight through her right lung, ripping through her heart and lodging in her left lung. Her wide open eyes stared into Calvin’s. Then she slumped to the floor with out making a sound. All in a matter of five seconds, Anna was dead.
Calvin screamed, “Noooooooooooo! Anna! Anna!” He knelt down beside her and patted her cheek. “Anna, Anna, come on. Don’t die. Don’t.” Tears streamed down his face. Standing up, he whirled towards the stranger. Shock, anger, terror; all filling him at once. He thought that his heart would stop at any moment.
“You bastard. You killed her. You killed Anna.”
“You warned her. What did I say I would do to anyone you warned? Her death is on your hands.”
“I never said a word! How did I warn her?”
“The look on your face was enough to let her know something was wrong. It is apparent from her question that you were acting normally before she left work otherwise she wouldn’t have questioned you. Or if something was bothering you while she was here and she came in she wouldn’t have asked if you were ok, at least not in that way or that tone. So in that indiscreet way you warned her. She would have went to what ever passes as your local law enforcement and had them swing by to take a look. I couldn’t allow her to do that.”
“You couldn’t have just held her here like your doing me?”
“The question is only for you. Her remaining here would be totally unacceptable.”
“Jesus Christ, your insane,” he said not caring what kind of reaction that might bring while he clenched and unclenched his fists.
“Sanity and insanity is all a matter of relevant opinion but I don’t believe your in the mood for a philosophical discussion on the subject. Nor do you have the time, considering. Now, take her into the freezer and grab a bucket and a mop and clean up the mess. And don’t get any blood on your clothes.”
Grabbing Anna by the wrists, Calvin dragged her to the back and to the left where the walk in freezer sat next to the cooler. The stranger followed after. He opened the door and Calvin placed her on the freezer floor amongst the boxes of various meats on the shelves. With one hand he closed Anna’s eyes and wiped the tears away from his own.
“I’m sorry Anna. So very sorry.” Grabbing a bucket and a mop he went back to the front and the stranger took up his seat back at the counter. With his feelings swirling like a whirlpool that threatened to pull him under and drown him he begin to clean the floor.
“You didn’t know nothing about her,” accused Calvin as he wrung out the mop for the first time, causing the water to turn pink.
“Don’t need to.”
“She was supposed to leave for Baylor U. this fall. She was going to major in medicine.”
“Looks like she wont be going no where now.” He stopped mopping and looked at the stranger who remained looking at the counter top in that relaxed way of his as if he had done this before, perhaps a dozen or even a hundred times before.
“You don’t even know anything about me.”
“Don’t need to. All I need to know is why I shouldn’t kill you.”
Ah yes, the inevitable question, the question that his whole future, his very life hangs on.
“Look I don’t do drugs, I am not a thief, a murderer.”
“Is that your answer? Because you’re a good person?”
“Yes, yes it is. I never saw you before. If someone had cheated you in this town sometime in the past, I am not that person. I am a good person.”
“Never said you or anyone else has cheated me here for anything. I have never been to this town before. As for your answer, how does this make you any different from all the other good people?”
“Well, if your some self appointed vigilante working your way across the country to clear the land from injustice, then you have the wrong person.”
“I just killed your friend in cold blood on a hunch. Does that sound like a vigilante to you?”
Without another word, Calvin went back to work cleaning up the floor. The whole time he played with an idea. He imagined that while he moved to rinse the mop he lowered his hands to get better momentum and swung with all his might, striking the stranger square in the head and knocking him off the seat. As he lay on the floor, Calvin broke the mop handle into, forming a sharp point then climbed on top of the counter. With a wild cry like that born from the lips of a barbarian he jumped down and drove the broken handle straight into the stranger’s body, piercing his heart like Van Helsing before the stranger could recover enough to pull out his gun.
He figured that if his mind was still working in such a way then that had to be a good sign that he was still trying to think of ways out of this; he hadn’t completely succumbed to his fear. Yet in reality he knew that the stranger would see it coming before it happened and would avoid the swing and then the stranger would kill him for sure. But how could he be so sure that the stranger would see it? With him always looking down and that hat obscuring his vision surely the swing would connect. But no, Calvin knew that would not happen because his fear told him differently and he was the type to listen to his fear. Better to try it the stranger’s way and think of reasons why he should let me live. Surely it cant be that difficult.
Finishing up he put the mop back into the bucket and with a good push, he sent the bucket and mop into the kitchen.
His fear. Calvin always held fear. Even through his school years. He never tried out for football for fear that he would get hurt, a knee injury, a broken leg; the fear of pain. The fear also kept him out of band or choir for fear of performing in front of a crowd. It wasn’t like a phobia or any such thing that became debilitating. It’s was just a common thing that most people had when confronted with getting up in front of others. His grades weren’t great but they weren’t poor either. Not that he couldn’t do better, it was just safer to be average to avoid the ridicule of his peers who would see him as smarter than they were.
Perhaps that was the real reason why he really had no desire to leave town. He had a routine here. Change was a bad thing to Calvin. If he left he would have to make a great change in his life. What if he did go to some big city and with out knowing the area accidentally moved into the wrong neighborhood and was mugged or had his place broken into while he was out or even worse, while he was home? What would happen if he moved and found out that he couldn’t make it? Return here with his tail tucked between his legs and face the looks of pity that said I knew you wouldn’t make it out there? Fear of change, fear of taking a chance.
And now, here he was fearful to take a chance to take action and escape or die trying even though he knew that the stranger would fulfill his promise of death at eleven o’ clock.
At 9:30 Jake Hensley and his girlfriend, Gloria Stanton entered the diner. When Calvin saw them his heart leapt into his throat.
Not now! Go away, please, he mentally willed them. They took a seat at the second booth to the right of the door.
“Hey, Calvin. Two cokes and an order of fries.”
Fries? No not fries. The stranger had told him under no circumstance was he allowed to go back to kitchen. Perhaps this was his chance. If the stranger let him go cook up the fries then maybe he could make a break for it. But that would leave Jake and Gloria at the mercy of the stranger. Glancing over at the stranger he saw that the man slowly waved his finger with out lifting up his hand.
“Ummm,” come on Calvin think of something, “going have to put a hold on the fries. Been having problems with the fryer.”
“Ok just a couple of Cokes then.”
He breathed a sigh of relief that Jake didn’t order anything else to eat instead of the fries. Putting ice in the glasses, he drew the Cokes from the fountain and delivered them to the table.
Stay cool, he told himself remembering what the stranger did to poor Anna. His hands were shaking badly, ice clinking against the glasses. When he placed them on the table he accidentally splashed out some of the coke onto the table.
“Whoa,” Jake said.
“Sorry, I’ll…I’ll clean it up right away.” As he went to the back counter and bent down to get the rag out of the bucket of water he never saw the stranger turn around. He never saw the stranger take out the gun. But he did jump up nearly spilling the bucket of water when he heard the two quick bursts that sounded like thunder in the restaurant. He was too scared to turn around.
This has got to be a dream. Yeah that’s it, a really bad dream and when I turn around my alarm clock is going to go off and wake me.
When he turned around no distant buzz of an alarm went off and though he was in a nightmare this was one that he could not wake up from because this one was real.
The stranger was back in his place. Looking over he saw that Jake and Gloria were slumped back as if they were just resting. That is if someone could rest with a big bloody hole in their chest. Both of their shirts were drenched in blood. A low wine begin to escape Calvin’s lips.
Before his legs gave out the stranger said, “Get that mess cleaned up. Put them in the freezer with the other and get a rag and start scrubbing.”
Though he heard the stranger’s order he couldn’t get his rubbery legs to move.
“I am giving you five seconds to get your ass in gear or I am going to put you in that freezer right now.”
That was all the motivation Calvin needed. Blood was everywhere; windows, table, floor. First, he grabbed Jake and once more the stranger followed like a faithful shadow. Next, he took back Gloria and laid her on top of Anna and Jake. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Vomit splattered all over Gloria’s breasts.
“Oh I bet you’re a real hit with the ladies.”
Calvin saw the slight smirk on the stranger’s face as he walked by. Grabbing a bucket of water and rag from the back counter, he went to the booth to clean up the blood of yet two more people he knew. The water quickly turned red and he hated the thought of having to put his hands in that bucket but going back for a pair of gloves was out of the question since they were kept in the storage area in the back. Emptying the contents of the bucket into the small sink at the back bar, he returned with fresh water to finish up the job while he kept an eye on the stranger who sat at the same stool he chose when he first entered.
With the job done, refilled the bucket with fresh water and put it back in its place. There had to be some way out of this. Some answer that the stranger would accept. Perhaps no matter what Calvin said, the stranger would not accept it. Maybe this was just some sadistic game he played with no intention of letting his victims go. Calvin’s mind would not allow him to go down that road of thought. That would mean that he would have to accept that he was going to die, no matter what.
That’s it. Maybe it was that simple.
Turning around to face the stranger he said, “I don’t want to die. That is my answer. You shouldn’t kill me because I don’t want to die.”
At first the stranger didn’t say anything as if actually pondering this thought but the silence was soon broken.
“As with millions of other people. The same with others I encountered. Everyone else I came in contact with and chose to ask the same question to didn’t want to die either. But they did anyways. What makes you any different?”
“Because I am not them. I want to live, damn it!”
“Then you had best come up with a good answer. You got one hour left to your life.”
So there were others. How many? If I could just get him to talk. Get him to give me some clue as to what he is looking for.
“How many? You said you asked others this question and they died anyways. How many were there?”
“I am the one asking the questions here. I know what your trying to do. Your not the first and wont be the last. Next time you decide to talk to me it had best be an answer because with each passing breath you use to form a question your wasting valuable time.”
Damn you. Damn you to hell. He turned his back on the stranger and ran his hand through his hair, racking his brain for an answer.
Looking at the clock like a condemned man on death row he saw that he had only fifty minutes left. A man’s life is supposed to be measured in years. Nice long years to grow gracefully old. And here Calvin is finding that his life is being measured in minutes. Just a mere handful. His guts felt like they were tied up in knots, if he had anything in his stomach he would probably be throwing up right now. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wish this all away. He couldn’t decide what was worse, knowing your going to die at a given time or the waiting for it to happen.
Come on, Calvin. You gotta get a grip man. You got like forty minutes left. You got to come up with a plan because in a very short while your going to be looking at the business end of that gun and as sure as your standing here he will blow your head clean off your shoulders.
What are you going to do if he doesn’t accept your answer or if you can’t come up with the right one, just stand there and let him shoot you? Won’t even have the guts to fight back at that time knowing that that bullet is going to come whizzing right out of that deep blackness of the inside of that barrel and carve it’s way right through your skull? Then it will be so long, fare well, adios. Yeah, the grim reaper is coming for ya, Calvin. Coming hell, he’s already here and he traded his cloak and sickle in for a cowboy hat and a gun.
At 10:30 Sheriff Boyd Kerrion strode into the Dinner carrying a newspaper.
“Hey, Calvin. Don’t mind if I barge in this late do you? Don’t want anything to eat. Just a cup of Coffee.”
“Not at all Sherriff,” Damn straight I don’t mind. He thought about the bodies piled in the freezer and wondered how he could get a warning to the Sheriff without being so obvious. Finally, with such a short time left, he has a chance to get out of this alive.
Bringing over the cup of coffee, Calvin placed his body between the cup and the mirror and come hell or high water was bound and determined to steel his nerves so as not to shake the coffee. As he put down the coffee, he held his hand close to himself and raised up the thumb while he pointed the index finger out and curled the other fingers in to form a sign like a gun then using his eyes to indicate the stranger behind him.
Kerrion may be an old country boy but he wasn’t stupid. The only sign he gave Calvin that he understood was a quick wink. Acting like nothing happened, he returned to his place behind the front counter but this time he moved off to the right to act like he was busy so this way if there was going to be any exchange of gunfire, he wouldn’t get caught by a missed shot.
As swift as a lightning strike, the stranger spun around pulled his gun. At the angle the Sheriff was in combined with sitting down he never stood a chance. Boyd’s gun only cleared half of its holster when the .357 slug struck just above the right eye; blowing away a good chunk of the Sheriff's head in a grizzly spray of blood, bone, and brain.
The impact knocked him all the way back across the seat and onto the floor under the table. Calvin squeezed his eyes shut, praying that gun shot had come from the Boyd. But he couldn’t delude himself. He had heard that report often enough to know where it came from. He waited for the response of a second shot, but none came. The next sound he heard was that of the voice of the stranger, calm, cool, and collected as ever.
“You know, that is a first for me. Never shot a cop before. Oh, come on, don’t look surprised. You didn’t think that I would let him walk out of here alive, did you? I know you warned him. Hell, I would have done the same thing if I was in your shoes. Gotta hand it to you, no shaking hands this time. That probably took a lot of effort. Then the idea of putting your self in the way where I couldn’t see your hands in the mirror so you could pass some form of message to the Sheriff; genius. You didn’t have time to write a note. And unless you know sign language you probably used your fingers to form a gun. But there was one fatal mistake. Your body moved just enough for me to see the Sheriff wink at you. Looks like you got a good mess to clean up here, now. Take his body and place it with the others. You know, if this keeps up your going to have the whole damn town in that freezer.”
At that moment, Calvin felt something else besides the fear that held him all this time. Something new crept in behind the fear and made it’s presence known. For the first time this night, for the first time in a long time, Calvin felt anger. Anger at the idea that people he grew up with, friends, lay in that freezer. Anger at the stranger for putting them there. Anger at the stranger for coming here and holding his life captive. This feeling was good and Calvin wanted to hold on to it for as long as he could. Perhaps he could turn this anger into something else entirely, like rage.
While he dragged Boyd to the back -- but not before the stranger took his gun and utility belt -- Calvin had been playing back everything the stranger had said and done since he first stepped foot into the diner.
With each passing moment the anger grew.
He returned back to clean up. While Calvin was cleaning, he heard the stranger step up behind him. With out even glancing at the clock he knew it must be eleven o’clock. Normally he would be locking the doors and going home right now. But not tonight. This night was different. Not just with the most obvious but different in other ways. Such as how he felt. Never had he ever felt like this before. Some would call it acceptance, the calm that comes over the condemned knowing that the inedible has arrived and there is nothing that can be done about it. But not Calvin, something else was happening, deep inside.
Dropping the rag, he turned to face the stranger and the barrel of the gun pointing at his forehead just mere inches away. In a quiet composed voice Calvin gave his final answer.
“I want to live. What makes that so different from the others? Because I have never felt so alive as I do right now.” His sight never wavered from the stranger's ice blue eyes that he now saw for the first time. There was no fear, no shaking, no begging. That was all laid aside in a separate space. Another compartment of the mind, closed off by some mental door. The stranger made a slight nod and a thin smile spread across his face.
“That is the correct answer. But I am afraid that it is too late. You see it is now 11:02 and I said that you had to give me the answer by 11 or I will kill you. I always mean what I say.”
It is said that in life and death situations that things seem to slow down, seen by the person as if they are disassociated from their body. Not in Calvin’s case. Things did slow down to him. The stranger’s finger pulled back the trigger.
Calvin felt the heat and the forces of air movement from the barrel. He saw the gun’s recoil and saw the bullet slowly, oh so slowly exit the barrel, spinning towards him. With such ease he side stepped out of its path. Saw the air displacement in the bullet’s wake, saw it pass by and heard the fine tinkling of glass has it left a hole in the window. Nothing else existed but this moment between him and the stranger.
Time was his.
Grabbing the glass sugar shaker off the table he swung with all his might though it felt like he was swinging through water. As he made contact with the stranger’s face, time resumed it’s normal pace. The glass shattered sending tiny shards and sugar into the stranger’s left eye. He roared in pain as those needle-like fragments cut into his eye; blood flood from the ruined optical organ. Force of the blow sent the stranger backward into the front counter where his right elbow slammed into the edge, causing him to loose grip of the gun.
Before the stranger could recover from the blow, Calvin was on him. But he didn’t swing or hit him again. Instead he placed both hands on the side of the strangers head in a vice-like grip and stared into the one good eye; then he opened that door to that compartment of his mind and channeled all his fear, not just that of tonight but all the fear he held all his life into the stranger.
Tears began to run from the one good eye but not from pain. He begin to shake, his legs quivering, mouth opened into a silent scream. With legs that wouldn’t hold him any longer the stranger slipped out of Calvin’s grip and fell to his knees, sobbing and blubbering like a child.
Calvin picked up the gun and addressed the stranger. “Look at me,” he seethed, “look at me!” The stranger looked up at Calvin in great fear. Placing the barrel of the gun against the stranger’s forehead, Calvin asked, “why should I not kill you?”
“I…I don…don’t want to die. Please don’t kill me, please.”
“None of the others wanted to die either.” The faces of his friends flashed through his mind; Anna, Jake, Gloria, Sheriff Boyd Kerrion. Just four in untold numbers that had to face the stranger. “That answer is not acceptable.”
Calvin pulled the trigger, felt the recoil. The back of the stranger's head blossomed into a bright spray of red then he fell backwards.
Letting the gun drop, Calvin walked out side, took a deep breath of fresh air and looked into the clear starry sky.
Never again would Calvin Lang know fear.
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Last Updated ( Saturday, 11 April 2009 20:42 )
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