by The Awethors
Part I
Jason sat in the cool intake area, waiting patiently for his client to arrive. He quietly observed the room around him for the hundredth time; he had always thought that it looked more like the reception area of a big office building than anything else. The walls and glossy floor were sterile white, sharply contrasted by a thick, black area rug and modern black furnishings.
Honestly, it all made him want to groan inside. It wasn’t just the walls and floor; everything in this area was the same. The pictures on the walls were done on white canvas with simple black scenes or faceless, black figures painted unassumingly in the center of the frame. Ugh. Black and white, then more black and white. Even the massive reception desk was jet black. The only real color in the room came from the potted trees placed stylishly in each corner of the room … and, of course, from the door.
Jason dropped his head, rubbing at his temples in an effort to rid himself of the headache that had camped out between his ears. He too, fit right in with his surroundings. His perfectly tailored suit was flat black and sported a crisp white shirt underneath. He had finished off his look with an expensive-looking black tie, and shoes polished to a high shine. To be sure, Jason took pride in his appearance, but there was more to it than that. His job required him to be smooth, no nonsense, and to the point. His style of dress represented this in every sense and had served him well thus far. The more distinguished and to the point he was able to appear, the better. No one in this line of work had ever seen any benefit from wearing their heart on their sleeve.
Oblivious to the slight bustle around him, he glanced down towards the floor and noticed a blemish on the reflective surface of his sable oxfords. He quickly pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket, leaned down, and vigorously rubbed the offending spot away. After he’d restored the shoe to a flawless finish, he sat up and adjusted his jacket. Looking at his watch, he frowned a little. Any minute now …
Before he could even sigh, Jason’s ears perked up to the familiar sound of movement from the heavy red door across the room. He got to his feet, and squinting against the bright bluish light that emerged as it swung open, stood expectant and anxious as the newest addition stumbled from out of the brilliance beyond and into the room.
Jason gave him a quick once-over. While the older man’s unkempt gray hair came to the bottom of his ears, it was obviously starting to thin on top. His face was wrinkled and worn, but seemed kind, nonetheless. His hands were covered in calluses and scrapes, definitely showing their age. He wore a red long-sleeved flannel shirt, with the front buttons undone and a dingy, sweat-stained t-shirt underneath. Faded jeans hung loosely over a pair of beaten up work boots, and the man’s knees showed through big rips in the fabric. It was apparent that he was a working man, but his overall appearance seemed to be about the same as any other male his age.
The man was quite bewildered and his eyes jumped wildly around the room as he staggered in. This was not at all unusual. Jason had seen many reactions from new clients, everything from denial to hysteria, but confusion was definitely one of the most common. Clearing his throat, he took a few steps forward and extended his hand.
“Mr. Jenkins, my name is Jason Newman and I’ll be representing you.”
The older man looked down at the hand before him, and hesitating, took it in his and gave a weak effort at a greeting. His eyes darted around frantically and his head drooped a little, as if he was afraid to confront his surroundings. Still clasping Jenkins’ wrinkled hand in his, Jason could feel that the man was lightly trembling. He ignored it. He knew by now that the best thing to do was move along briskly and deal with any questions or concerns later. Besides, the pair was due before the court in about an hour, and he didn’t want to be late.
Jason ushered his client over to the row of chairs against the wall and addressed him again. “Ok, Mr. Jenkins …”
“Robert,” the old man interrupted.
Caught off guard, Jason stopped midsentence and glanced at his charge. “Pardon?”
For the first time, the man really looked Jason in the face. His soft grey eyes earnestly searched Jason’s green ones and his voice caught in his throat as he repeated, “Robert. My name is Robert.”
Jason momentarily lost his poise. “Oh sure, Mr. Jenkins … I mean Robert. Of course, from here on out I’ll just refer to you by your first name.” Clearing his throat again, he tried to recover. “Robert, you are welcome to call me Jason, if you like. We need to go over your paperwork really quickly so that I can get accustomed with your case. Is that all right?”
Robert nodded and Jason motioned for him to take a seat. Sitting down beside his client, he flipped open the top of his briefcase and pulled out a file. He glanced over it one more time, making sure he had the right person, and then flipped to his list of questions.
Clearing his throat, Jason began, “Your full name is Robert Earl Jenkins, is that correct?” When Robert nodded in confirmation, he continued. “Ok, you were born on June 12, 1950 to Claira Isabel Gaines and Earl Rae Jenkins, both of whom were killed in a house fire in 1975.”
A startled expression flashed across Robert’s previously somber face. He nodded silently. Unfazed, Jason continued, reading aloud the list of information before him in factual and emotionless statements, rather than asking anything in particular.
“Right. Now Robert, it looks as though you were never married, but that you did have a child, a daughter named Susan, now aged 39 and living in Tuscaloosa. It appears the two of you were estranged …” he paused, glancing quickly at his client. “I’m sad to hear that, by the way,” he offered in a no-nonsense tone.
Robert gazed at him, blinking moisture from his eyes, and muttered a small “Thank-you” in reply. Jason carried on, business-like and smooth, not even missing a beat.
“It appears that you chose a relatively quiet existence as a local ranch hand and that you succumbed to emphysema at age 65.” He flipped the file closed and looked levelly at the older man. “Which brings you here; on behalf of everyone on this side, I want to take the opportunity to formally welcome you to the Afterlife.”
Robert bit his lip, and nodded as he rubbed his hands together nervously. “What happens now?” he asked hoarsely, his brow furrowed with worry.
Jason got to his feet and smiled calmly. “Well actually, right at this moment you’re due for a physical.” He chuckled at the look of puzzlement on Robert’s face and tried to reassure him.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Mr. Jenkins. It’s purely procedural. We just want to see how you have held up after 65 years of life. Follow me and I’ll take you to the exam room.”
Robert got to his feet and straightened his shoulders, seemingly deciding in that moment to meet whatever was ahead of him without reservation. Jason was glad to see this change of demeanor and was hopeful that it would last throughout their time together. Acceptance was always the best course forward; those who made a scene or refused to believe their circumstances always had a harder time in the long run.
The pair left the waiting area and headed down a long hallway. The sharp black and white theme continued. Though it was clean and contrasting, it was not exactly very inviting. When they came to door 104, Jason turned the knob and ushered his client inside. Robert obliged without hesitation, and after he’d entered, Jason walked inside the room and set his briefcase down on the simple chair to the side of the exam table.
“Ok, Robert. Go ahead and disrobe down to your under-clothing. You can keep your socks on as well, but everything else comes off.”
Robert blushed slightly. “Are you doing the exam?” he asked sheepishly.
This was a common worry and Jason addressed it quickly. “No, no. I’ll just be observing and taking notes. Doctor Williams will be in shortly.”
Robert sighed with relief and began to comply with his representative’s request. He pulled off his work boots and then slid his tattered jeans down over his thin legs. He tossed them into a heap across the r
oom and started to pull off his shirt. Jason sat down in the chair and slipped the client file out of his briefcase again. He had just retrieved a pen out of his suit pocket when the door opened again and the doctor came into the room.
“Good morning, gentlemen!” Dr. Williams said in his usual booming voice. He nodded towards Jason, “Good to see you again, Mr. Newman.” Grabbing the chart off the back of the door before closing it, he squinted through tiny bifocals at the name printed neatly across the top. He then cleared his throat and looked over the shiny rims at his newest patient.
“Robert Jenkins, I presume?”
Robert swallowed hard and nodded nervously, leaning back against the exam table as he stood. He looked curiously at the Doc as he waited for whatever poking and prodding was in store for him.
Jason smiled a bit in spite of himself. A physical exam courtesy of Dr. Williams was not what most recently deceased people expected to encounter after they passed on. But truthfully, nothing here really fit in with the image that most people had in their minds of the typical afterlife.
Dr. Williams himself was a short-statured but fairly plump individual. He had a shiny bald head with bright white hair on the fringes. A thick, white push-broom mustache wiggled across his top lip as he spoke and thick, curly eyebrows spidered down into his serious, old eyes. His tiny spectacles completed the look, which had always reminded Jason of an old-time shop clerk. If you exchanged the white coat for a striped apron, the comparison would have been spot on.
The Doc parked his generous rear on the rolling stool in the middle of the room and continued to flip through Robert’s chart. “So my dear man, it looks like you are 65 years old and you must have been a smoker, because you died of emphysema.” He raised an eyebrow and glanced up at Robert expectantly.
Robert swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes sir. Since I was a teenager.”
Dr. Williams clicked his tongue in disapproval and shook his head. “That’ll do it every time. You’re lucky that it took this long for it to become fatal, although I suspect you must have suffered with it for years.”
Again, his patient nodded meekly. “Yes sir.”
Setting down the chart, Dr. Williams scooted across the room. “Well, come here and let’s have a look at you. We’ll see what other surprises you have in store for me. Please go ahead and have a seat.”
Robert hoisted himself up onto the table as directed. Dr. Williams rolled his chair closer. He looked quickly at his patient’s dangling toes and then gave his knees a quick once-over. Getting to his feet, he then approached Robert with an outstretched hand and softly placed it on his abdomen.
He closed his eyes and slowly moved his hand across the body of his patient, making quiet “hmms” and “uh-huhs” as he went along. He moved his hands from Robert’s lower torso up to his chest, nodding as he continued his curious utterings. His soft, wrinkled hands moved over Robert’s rib cage, hesitating momentarily above his heart and lungs, and then up towards his neck and face. He pulled Robert’s eyelids open, searching the eyes behind them intently.
As the exam progressed, Robert appeared to be a little puzzled, but he remained quiet and let the doctor go about his work without objection.
Dr. Williams continued, taking Robert’s hands in his and studying them, carefully turning them over and feeling across the calluses and deep grooves in the palms. After examining the nervous man a moment longer, the doctor again sat down on his stool.
“Well, Robert, I have to say it is about what I expected.”
“Oh?” Robert replied, raising an eyebrow.
The doctor nodded at him and then turned to Jason. “Are you ready for my analysis, Mr. Newman?”
Jason smiled and nodded. Clicking his pen, he held his hand poised above Robert’s client file. Dr. Williams cleared his throat, and casting a sideways glance at Robert, began to dictate his findings to the lawyer.
“Well it does appear that Mr. Jenkins was quite a heavy smoker; unbeknownst to him, on top of a fairly nasty case of emphysema, he was also in the infant stages of lung cancer.” Ignoring a shocked gasp from Robert, Dr. Williams continued.
“It also appears that he enjoyed his liquor, and the evidence can be found in his mildly cirrhosed liver. I’m going to venture that he had not been a heavy drinker for a long period of time, but it seems that in recent years, with the decline of his health, Mr. Jenkins did find solace in the bottom of many bottles.”
Robert again uttered his surprise. “How in the world could you possibly know that?”
Spinning slightly on his stool, the doctor peered at Robert over the shiny rims of his bifocals. “Because it’s my job to know these things, Mr. Jenkins,” he said matter-of-factly. “Now may I continue with my findings, or are you in need of a longer explanation?”
A bit taken aback, Robert pursed his lips and shook his head, looking helplessly at Jason. The younger man winked at his client, and put a finger to his lips. The attorney then smiled at Dr. Williams.
“Please, Doc … continue.”
“Of course,” the doctor replied. He folded his arms across his chest and continued to recite details about his patient the same way he would recite an order to a waiter in a swanky restaurant.
“Aside from the smoking and drinking, this man suffered from a less than ideal diet, consisting of mostly diner food, fast food, and TV dinners. He enjoyed his red meat and also had quite the sweet tooth. I guess this is not too surprising, as the patient was a bachelor most of his life and primarily lived alone. One thing to his benefit is that he was not afraid of a bit of vigorous labor, as evidenced in his muscle tone and the show of wear on his hands. He has most definitely been a hard worker the majority of his life.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jason could see that Robert was nodding as the doctor spoke. He pretended not to notice and continued to write down the findings of his colleague on the crisp form inside the file. The doctor waited politely for him to finish.
Jason finished his sentence and then double-checked his work. “Ok, Doc. Is that all?”
The elderly doctor rubbed his chin. “Well from a technical standpoint, yes.” When Jason looked up at him expectantly, he continued.
“I’m sad to say that Mr. Jenkins did not take care of his heart properly, in the personal sense.”
Jason glanced over at Robert who now seemed fixated on a spot on the floor. Looking back at the doctor, Jason nodded. “Please, continue.”
“Well it seems as though he only let himself fall in love once, you see. When she walked out on him, Mr. Jenkins let himself become a broken man. He engaged in multiple affairs and flings. He even fathered a child with one woman he met along the way; however, he never allowed himself to get close to anyone again. His relationship with his daughter was rocky at best, and except for a few male friends, he lived a very lonely life and died with no one important by his side.”
Jason sighed and shook his head. It was not an uncommon story to hear about one of his clients, but it was always something that made their cases a little more difficult to argue. He quietly looked over at Robert again. The nearly naked man appeared to be much smaller and weaker now. His shoulders were hunched and he was staring at the same spot on the floor, his face unmoving and expressionless.
“Ok, Doc. Thanks for your time, as always.” Jason stood and shook hands with Dr. Williams, who also rose as he prepared to leave.
The doc turned to Robert and, giving him a slight pat on the bare shoulder, spoke softly. “Don’t worry, Mr. Jenkins. It’s always a little hard on everyone to hear their lives summed up in such black and white terms. Just get through the rest of the day and you can begin your sentence.”
Robert straightened and stared at the pint-sized doctor in shock, speechless but very obviously disturbed. Dr. Williams gave him a small smile and turned, quietly shutting the door as he exited the room. Jason was again alone with his client.
“Well, Robert, it’s time to get dressed. We’re on a tight schedule, so it’s b
est if you hurry. We need to go before the panel shortly and I’d like to have a few minutes to brief you beforehand.”
His companion complied, silently slipping down from the exam table and reaching for his clothes. He began to hum quietly as he did so, and Jason paused momentarily, sure that he knew the tune but not quite able to place it. Disregarding the distraction, he packed up his briefcase.
Jason allowed Robert to dress alone, letting him know that he would be waiting in the hallway. He then quickly retreated, relieved when the door shut behind him. He could finally be alone with his own thoughts.
This was not the easiest job, and at times it had taken its toll on him. Without a doubt, the most difficult adjustments had come at the beginning. It had taken him quite a while to accept his own fate, let alone get used to the idea of watching others accept theirs. He’d been forced to train himself to remain objective and to take an almost clinical approach with each case, approaching each new set of circumstances as if he were a surgeon. He had to sift through the composition of each client’s life, cut out the bothersome or unneeded parts, and then splice the person back together so that they could move on to the next phase. The hardest part, however, was that, like medical cases, most of the time the outcomes for Jason’s clients were unpredictable and out of his control.
Jason sighed, leaning his slender body against the cool wall behind him. He’d gotten pretty good at not letting most cases get to him, but every once in a while one snuck up on him. He was not sure what it was about Robert Jenkins’ case that tugged at his heart strings, but he had to get himself centered and back to business-as-usual before it became too personal. Getting attached to Robert and his story was not an option.
The door to the exam room opened and Robert peeked out. He seemed relieved to see that Jason was standing there patiently, as promised. He appeared to be a bit more composed now, and Jason had to admire his resilience. It was not easy to handle the dose of reality that Dr. Williams was notorious for handing out, but the fact that Robert seemed able to bounce back meant that things would be easier for him in the phases to come.
Jason straightened and met Robert’s eyes with his. “Are you ready to move on now, Robert?” he asked. When the elder man stated that he was, Jason forced a smile and began to head further down the hallway. “Let’s go then.”