Awethology Light

by The Awethors

  Part II

  They sat in the conference room together in an awkward silence. Robert stared into his cup of coffee, swirling the wooden stirring stick around and watching the whirlpool it made in the middle of the dark liquid. He began to hum again. Jason ignored him, instead pulling all of the papers out of the client file and organizing them into small stacks on the table. He hated this part.

  As he glanced briefly at his charge, Jason felt his eyebrow begin to twitch. Why did Robert get to him so much? He had seen nearly every reaction imaginable in the decades he had served in this position. Some people sobbed and cried; others literally freaked out, scratching at the walls or pulling their hair as they rocked back and forth. Then of course, there were the angry ones, sure that they had been cheated and demanding to be sent back. Finally, there were also a surprising number of individuals who welcomed the end of their mortal life and were happy, even excited, to see what came next. The truth was that everyone had their own way of dealing with death.

  Robert seemed to be in his own category. He was sorrowful, sure; but there was a melancholy sense of resignation about him as well. He hadn’t tried to bargain, and he didn’t have a lot of questions. He just waited. It was not at all similar to the way that Jason had reacted. The young man shuddered slightly now, remembering the way he had sunk to his knees, begging for reprieve and screaming as he’d clung to the leg of his own Representative. But of course, unlike other new arrivals, he’d had more than his own death to be distraught over.

  Swallowing hard, Jason shook his head quickly and blinked back the tears that threatened to give him away. Not now, not today. He cleared his throat and looked back at Robert, noticing that the older gentleman was looking at him curiously. Dammit. He had broken one of his most important rules: never let the client see you vulnerable. All he could do now was move on as if nothing had happened.

  “Robert, it’s time to move on to the next stage. We’re going to go through the door behind you, where you will find a small dressing room. I will need you to change into the robes that are provided. I will also be changing. After we have dressed, we’ll head into the adjoining room for your hearing.”

  Robert cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow. “What sort of hearing?”

  Finally, there it was. Jason set down his pen, folded his hands together on the table, and looked at his client squarely. “Basically your life is on trial. Pretty much everything you’ve ever said or done will be reviewed. The Council will hear how you treated others, the choices you made, opportunities you may have squandered, and how you took care of yourself. After I have presented your case honestly, then they will impose a sentence.”

  Robert sat hunched in his seat, obviously less than comfortable with what he was hearing. “What do you mean they’ll impose a sentence? Are you telling me they’re gonna send me to hell or something?”

  Turning to the file one more time and glancing at his notes, Jason answered his client honestly. “Judging by the information I have been provided, that is not very likely. But Robert, sometimes things can be unpredictable in that room. You are actually the one that has the largest influence on their decision.”

  “How so?” Robert replied, troubled.

  “We’re not going to get into that right now,” Jason replied curtly. “But if it makes you feel any better, you should know that almost everyone who comes through here receives some sort of sentence. It’s all just a part of the process.” He rose to his feet and packed all of the papers and files into his briefcase. When he had finished, he straightened his suit jacket and looked squarely at Robert. “It’s time.”

  The other man nodded and took one last sip of his coffee. Then, following Jason’s lead, he rose and walked slowly to the door across the room. Without a word, Jason opened it and ushered his client through, directing him to the dressing room.

  The two men undressed in silence. Both removed their shoes, remaining barefoot as no alternative footwear was provided. Robert then put on the simple white frock that had been set aside for him. It slipped easily over his head and came to rest just above his knees. The outfit was quite plain, and the short length and cinched waist did him no favors. The ill-fitted attire looked terribly pitiful upon his aged frame.

  Jason, on the other hand, donned his more elaborate floor-length black garments. He took his time adjusting the many layers of flowing onyx fabric, then straightened the stiff collar and looked for the belt. He grabbed the gold-toned cord that was to be the only hint of color in the stoic ensemble from the hook on the wall, and tied it quickly around his waist. The long rope-like lariat hung well down the length of his leg and reminded him of something a medieval monk would have worn.

  After they had both donned their new attire, they left the changing area and headed down a dark corridor. Another entry awaited them just ahead. They did not speak as they approached the heavy walnut door, and the only sound was that of Jason’s flowing robes rustling in response to his movements.

  As they neared, light could be seen spilling through the cracks between the door and the frame. Jason placed his hand on the brass handle and took a moment to address his companion.

  “Well, Mr. Jenkins, here we are. Before we go in front of the court I must go over a few things with you. The most important thing that you need to know is that you will have the chance to speak. However, you must remain quiet until you are personally addressed by one of the Elders. I assure you that they are all kind and just, but they are very picky when it comes to having order during the proceedings. So there are to be no emotional outbursts or arguing of any sort.” He paused, trying to remember if he’d left anything out. “Oh,” he added as it finally occurred to him, “…I think it goes without saying, but please make sure that above all else you are honest. They already know pretty much everything, so trying to gloss over the facts will only work against you in the sentencing phase.”

  Robert nodded at him nervously and took a deep breath. Jason gave a small smile to reassure him and started to turn the knob. Suddenly he felt pressure on his arm. He looked down, startled, and saw Robert’s worn and wrinkled hand clutching his wrist.

  “Is there a way I can get a message to my daughter first, Mr. Newman? I need her to know that I love her. I should have … I wish I’d …” the old man’s voice caught as he stumbled over his words.

  Shaken, Jason forced a lump of anguish back down his throat, and shook his head. “I’m afraid that it’s too late for that at this point.” He shuddered as the face of a beautiful girl with long red hair and hazel eyes flashed through his rattled brain. “We all have regrets when we die, Robert. We just have to hope that, despite the fact that we fell short in life, those we damaged along the way know how much they truly meant to us.”

  He looked Robert in the eyes, allowing the nakedness of his soul and the raw pain within to flood between them like the dark waters of a lonely sea. Tears began to fall down Roberts face and he firmly squeezed Jason’s hand, nodding with peaceful understanding. For just a moment, the two men connected. Robert seemed to have forgotten his own fears while Jason, for the first time he could remember, was not concerned with appearances. They were just two men who’d become lost in the dark.