by Rob Mclean
“I think they do,” he said, “and I don’t think they’re aliens at all.”
“Let me guess. You think it’s the AntiChrist.”
“You bet.” Zeke got up and paced over to his computer. “There’s heaps of people saying the same thing. Even some of the non-Christian sites are beginning to see it too.” He called up his internet profile. “Look, now they even have a ‘Belief Status’ on my homepage.”
“A ‘Belief Status?’” Angela asked.
“Yeah, after the alien envoy’s offer, they have now put on this bit where you can let the world know if you’re a believer or not. You know, a bit like the relationship status option. They say that they want to get an idea where the people now stand on the issue.”
Angela saw that the default must be non-believer and noticed that Zeke had not yet changed his status to ‘Believer.’
Zeke took out his phone to check the time.
“Are you staying for dinner?” he asked.
“What? Are you trying to get rid of me now?”
“Actually,” he had the decency to cringe, “I was hoping we’d get a quick bite to eat. Then I’ve gotta head out. I’ve got a meeting.”
“Can’t I come too?”
“Nah, it’s a man thing.” He didn’t notice her fists clenching into balls.
“So, where are you going?” She felt she was being both excluded and rushed out the door. Immediately her anger went up another notch.
“I’m going to meet up with some of the Christian youth leaders. Someone’s bringing some people of other faiths and we’re going to see what we can do about this alien thing.”
“And just what do you think you can do?” Angela jumped to her feet. She gathered up her things and stomped to the door.
“Hey babe, don’t be like that.”
She turned and glared at him.
“Let me see…” she said, barely controlling herself. “You shag me, get a bite to eat and then plan your little war against the alien. As I see it you’ve got it all.”
“What are you talking about?”
“All you basic needs are being met,” she said, “the three ‘F’s; feeding, fighting and…”
“And what?” he asked, as if he wanted to hear her say the word.
“Fornicating,” she said and slammed the door behind her.
Chapter 27
John arrived at Angela’s place for the second time in four days. He hoped it didn’t make him look like he was trying too hard, but he had a call from Angela’s mother, Clarice asking him to drop by. He didn’t like to tell her that it was hardly dropping by, as he lived an hour away on the other side of the city.
He saw that the wooden steps to the front porch were still loose. No one had nailed down the warped steps. He stepped over them and went to knock on the door.
Clarice again opened the door before he reached it. He figured that she must sit in the front piano room waiting for expected visitors. Or maybe she just sat with Geoff, spending as much time as she could with him while she could and watched the comings and goings up and down the street to pass the time.
“Thank you for coming over so soon,” she said. She welcomed him in and ushered him into the front piano room. Geoff was sitting in his usual seat.
“Howdy, son,” he said. He looked better than the last time John had seen him. He still had his oxygen mask and a walking stick, but he waved more animatedly.
“Good to see you again, sir,” John said, taking Geoff’s hand and shaking it before Geoff could struggle to his feet.
Clarice indicated that John should sit in the same sofa recliner chair that he had before and offered him a coffee. He remembered the cool reception he had from her last time and felt she was a little less icy so far.
“No thanks, ma’am,” he said. She pulled over a high backed chair and sat nearby.
“Angela hasn’t got any quicker at getting ready, has she?” John joked.
Geoff and Clarice exchanged wry smiles.
“Angela isn’t home, dear,” Clarice said.
“Okay…” John couldn’t help feeling suddenly wary.
“We wanted to have a word with you, son,” Geoff said.
“What’s the problem?”
“I believe you have some pills that Angela was getting for me,” Geoff said. John could hear the years of serving as a police sergeant in the old man’s tone.
“I do.” John decided there was no point trying to evade.
“We want them,” Geoff said. His features were severe and his voice had a hard edge in it that belied its frail source.
John looked to Clarice. Her face was set with the same grim expression.
“Angela must have told you that those pills were taken from Zeke. He, or his friend, had used them on Angela and were walking her out the door when I stopped them.”
“He could have been taking her home,” Clarice said.
“Sure,” John agreed, “but he pretended he didn’t know her when I questioned him.”
Geoff grunted and half grinned. He knew what ‘questioning’ meant.
“So you know that those pills might be needed as evidence.” John knew it wasn’t much of a defence, but he didn’t want to hand them over if it meant hastening Geoff’s death.
“Nobody’s laying any charges,” Geoff said, “but you know that being in possession of those sorts of pills is illegal.”
John nodded.
“We’d hate for you to get into any trouble on our account.” Geoff said it without any malice and John felt he was genuinely concerned for him.
“Angela told us about you losing your father,” Clarice said, putting her hand on John’s broad shoulder, “and we’re truly sorry for you. It would be sad to grow up without a father.”
John appreciated her concern, so he didn’t want to correct her. He didn’t want to tell her the sort of hell he and Jarred grew up under the rule of their step-father’s random alcoholic rages. To grow up without a father at all would have been far preferable.
“But no one lives forever,” she continued, “especially when they have cancer.”
“I know,” John said, “Angela has told me all about it and I know where you’re coming from. Did she tell you that I offered to pay for the pills?”
“She said she was going to try to get Zeke to fix her up for them. After all, he is the one who lost them,” Clarice said.
“Lost them to me,” John said.
“You were just doing your job,” Geoff said, “besides; a lump of cash is no good to me. It won’t help me when the time comes.”
There was a silent pause while both of the parents drifted off into heir own thoughts. As the moments passed and it became more uncomfortable for John, he began to wonder if it were not a new ploy to put pressure on him.
“You know, I did some looking on the internet about this sort of thing,” John said, “and I don’t think you got the right sort of pills.”
“We left that to Angela and Zeke to sort out,” Clarice said. “We’re not very good with that sort of thing.”
“He said his friend was a pharmacist,” Geoff added.
“His father is. His friend Blake is at university.”
“But Zeke said…”
“It turns out that Blake stole the pills from his father’s store.”
“Oh no,” Clarice cried. “We never wanted them to steal, to sin.”
“It’s not your problem if Blake decided to steal the pills and pocket the cash,” John said trying to placate them.
“But…” Clarice began to protest.
Geoff cut her off, “We thought we were buying them from the druggist, but under the counter, if you know what I mean.” John supposed that made it better by their way of thinking.
“We should have got them from abroad, over the internet,” she said, wringing her hands.
“We discussed that and the risks were too much.”
“Risks?” John asked.
“There’s customs, importing illegal dru
gs, paying over the internet with our credit card, traceability,” Geoff explained, “not to mention the possibility of extortion or blackmail.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” John said.
“I don’t know what to do,” Clarice said. She got up and walked to the front window. Outside some kids were riding bikes and playing in the street. “I don’t want to risk getting Angela or Zeke into trouble again trying to get more pills.”
“Look, I wish I could help you, but I can’t just give you back the pills.” He looked plaintively at Geoff, who nodded in agreement.
Clarice walked over and put her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “I know, dear.”
“Also, I was saying before, I don’t think Zeke got you the right sort of pills.” John waited until he had their full attention before continuing. “I think he asked the druggist’s son Blake for the date-rape drug instead of the type you want.”
“You mean they’re not the same?” asked Geoff.
“As far as I can tell, they’re both sedatives, but the Rohypnol he got is used to…”
“Yeah, I know what they use it for,” Geoff interrupted, “but I thought they were the same.”
“Apparently not.”
“But why would he do that?” Clarice asked. “He knows what we need them for.”
“Because,” Geoff answered using his policeman logic, “he figured that with this alien spaceship thing arriving, that all bets were off and he was out to look after his own needs first.”
John nodded. “That’s the way I see it.”
“You mean to say that Zeke deliberately bought that date-rape drug instead of the one we needed?” Clarice asked. She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. “No. I don‘t believe it. He wouldn’t have.”
“And then he used it on our daughter,” Geoff said, his jaw muscles flexed.
“There must be some sort of mistake,” Clarice said.
John said nothing. He figured it was the most diplomatic thing to do. Geoff just shook his head.
“Hey,” John said, his eyes lighting up, “now that the alien is here and is giving away its technology, it might have a cure for you.”
Both Clarice and Geoff’s features hardened. Their lips thinned and they frowned. “I don’t think so,” Clarice said.
“Oh, yeah,” John said. “You would probably have to be atheists, wouldn’t you?”
“Not gonna happen,” Geoff said.
“Yeah, sorry,” John’s face flushed.
“Besides,” Geoff said, “even if there was some alien wonder pill, and it was available to everyone, it probably wouldn’t arrive in time.”
“How about Oregon?” John asked. “Don’t they have different laws there about euthanasia?”
“They do,” Clarice said.
“Well, why don’t you just go there?”
“It’s not that simple, son,” Geoff said. “For a start, we don’t want to live in Oregon. Too damn cold…”
“Language, dear,” Clarice said.
Geoff ignored her. “Besides, we can’t tell when I’d be needing to go to Oregon, and when that time does comes, I’d be in no fit state to travel.”
John figured he was running out of reasons not to help Geoff. He didn’t want to point out the obvious, but he felt he had no options left.
“Excuse me for asking, but doesn’t being a Christian mean that you shouldn’t take your own life?”
“A good question, son,” Geoff said. He shifted himself in his sofa armchair and adjusted his oxygen mask. “You know, as recently as five years ago I would have said the same thing that all the religions say, that it’s a sin to take a life. Anyone’s life, even your own.”
“But we’ve changed our opinion since Geoff got sick,” Clarice said. “Suffering might be character building and part of God’s plan, but the pain involved in dying is so pointless.”
John nodded and tried to imagine what it would be like to slowly die, to be in constant pain while losing awareness of those around you.
Clarice continued, “Even if it would make you a better person for the eternal life, by the time you take the pills, you are so far away with the fairies, on pain medications, that you’re not aware of anything.”
“So you shouldn’t take pain medications if you want to learn anything from the dying experience?” John asked, “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I might be wrong and no one really knows, because anyone who might learn anything from dying isn’t around afterwards to tell us about it. If there is some spiritual learning to be had from the dying process then I would think most of it is done early on in the process when you first have to deal with it,” Geoff said. “I know that’s how it was for me.”
“And a lot of it is done by the family and close friends of the dying person,” Clarice added, stroking Geoff’s hand.
“It’s alright for those people pontificating about euthanasia being wrong,” Geoff’s voice was getting raspy from so much talking, “but unless they have nursed someone while they died, then I don’t think they really know what they’re on about.”
“Walk a mile in their shoes,” said John.
“Exactly,” Geoff said, his bony finger waving to emphasize his point.
John nodded and thought about their problem for a while. “It must be pretty bad to have to plan out your own death like this,” he said.
“At least we have that luxury,” Clarice said. “Or, we would have, if we had the pills.”
“Okay, okay, I can take a hint,” John said. “Let me see if I can’t get you the right pills.”
Clarice beamed a triumphant smile.
Geoff was more reserved. “I don’t want you getting yourself into any trouble on account of me.”
“I won’t,” John said. “I figure I’ll have a talk to Blake’s father. See if I can’t work something out.”
Geoff nodded. He put his hand out for a handshake to seal the deal the old-fashioned way. “Okay, thanks, son. You don’t know how much it means to us to be able to choose when I die.”
John shook his hand, knowing the significance of his promise.
Geoff asked Clarice to make him a coffee. John found his throat had gone dry so he took the opportunity to ask for one as well. She dutifully went to the kitchen, leaving the men together.
John turned to Geoff. The older man’s eyes were happy, the corners crinkled with a smile.
“You’re looking better.”
“Feeling better,” Geoff said.
“Good,” John nodded.
“Feeling better in here,” Geoff put a fist to his heart, “makes me feel better in here.” He then pointed to his head.
“All because you have an exit plan?”
“Oh, there’s that too.”
“Too?” John asked, curious as to what would make a cancer ridden old man smile.
Geoff peered towards the kitchen. Satisfied that Clarice was still in the kitchen, he continued. “I hear that Angela has a new suitor.”
John’s heart sank at the news. Someone else was interested in her as well. His shoulders slumped and his face reflected his disappointment.
Geoff chuckled at John’s reaction. Then when he saw John’s look of surprise mixed with indignation at being laughed at, he laughed all the more. The laughter soon turned into a cough. It quickly developed a life of its own, and within moments, Geoff was racked with a hacking spasmodic cough that convulsed his whole body.
John watched immobilized. He didn’t know what to do to help the stricken man. Clarice rushed in. She held a handkerchief to Geoff’s mouth. She murmured encouragement as she thumped him on the back with solid and practiced blows.
Geoff produced a mouthful of phlegm that he pushed out his mouth into the handkerchief. Clarice wrinkled her nose as she gathered it up, wiped his mouth and took the messy bundle out of the room.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Geoff said, still grinning. The wicked twinkle in his eyes had not gone. John was speechless.
“I shouldn’t do that too often,” he said, “but it sure was fun, if only to see the look on your face.”
“I’m not following what you’re on about,” John said.
“You,” Geoff poked his finger at John. “You’re the one I was on about.”
John’s felt his cheeks redden, partly out of embarrassment, but also out of anger. He tried to keep control of his expression.
“Am I right?” Geoff asked.
“It’s true…”
“Ha,” Geoff exclaimed. “I was right. I hear them talking, you know. I can still hear. They seem to forget that.”
“They were talking about me?” John asked.
“Yes, yes. But it won’t work.”
“It won’t?” John struggled to keep his voice even. He was beginning to see why Angela had so few suitors in her past. He doubted many had withstood Geoff’s interrogations.
“No.” He shook his head, “you’re not a Christian.”
“No, I’m not,” John admitted.
“It’s very important that you’re a good Christian fellow.”
“Yeah, Angela said as much herself.”
“So, you may as well pack your bags then, eh?” Geoff still had that mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“Sorry?” John felt he was missing something.
“Throw in the towel,” Geoff continued, “call it a day, you know, give in and walk away.”
“I’d hope a little thing like God wouldn’t come between us.” John hope he didn’t offend, but he didn’t know what else to say.
“There’s nothing little about God,” Geoff said.
“I know, but…”
“But God wouldn’t get in the way of love?”
John said nothing. He squirmed in his sofa chair at the mention of the ‘L’ word and looked out the window.
Geoff chuckled again at John’s discomfort, this time careful not to let his humour get away. “Good for you, son.” He leaned over and patted John on his knee. “Angela did say you were easy to tease.”
“Geoffrey James White,” Clarice scolded as she returned with a pair of coffees. “Are you tormenting this poor boy?”
Geoff grinned a lop-sided guilty smile in reply.
“Well you’ll have to stop before you bring up a lung.”