Another bad day at the office

Prologue

&;#8230;and this years recipient of the Noble Peace prize for
Medicine is Alfred Demacelli. Alfred's ground breaking work on medicine
to aid in the healing of wounds has led to a revolution in patient care
at hospital. Wounds that required stitches or were often fatal are now
quickly and easily healed in a matter of minutes. Most modern
ambulances are equipped with the medication allowing for many people to
be healed at the scene of the accident. The death's relating to
injuries caused in car crashes has been reduced by 50\%; Ladies and
Gentlemen I give you Alfred Demacelli.

Alfred Demacelli stands to tumultuous applause. He is a humble man,
fifty years of age. Walking up to the podium slowly he says a quick
prayer of thanks to God and relaxes himself. Finally as silence settles
around him he begins to speak
"Ladies and Gentleman. I thank you for your accolades and for the
award. There are hundreds of people who I can thank, who have helped me
to achieve my goals in life but there is only one man who I can say
helped turn my life around and allow me to concentrate on
medicine.
Thirty seven years ago, as an unruly teenager I was beset by two large
teenagers. Their intent was to steal my money but I was resolute and
intended to use any means to get free. John Stones saved my soul that
day by interceding and although he did not live to see this day, I can
honestly say that without John Stones I would just be another criminal
on death row.
To honor John I would like you to know his
story&;#8230;&;#8230;

Part 1 - a day of joy.

1

Let me introduce myself. I am John Stones. As many people will tell you
I am a handsome charismatic man, believe them if you want, I will not
argue with them. My looks came from my father, a diminutive but
good-looking man; I consider myself to be attractive, nothing out of
the ordinary, just normal. My charisma and gentle manners come from my
mother; she was a wonderful person whose quiet unassuming manner spoke
volumes without a single word, I still miss her five years after her
death.

Cancer struck her down without any warning; she simply died six months
after diagnosis. I bitterly recall the doctor's soulful words as he
tried to express his sorrow at being helpless. It still makes my blood
boil that they can spend billions on weapons to kill, but still cannot
provide enough funding to cure cancer.

My father, with his heart broken asunder died two years later; a kidney
failure that was undoubtedly caused by his drinking killed him. I still
see his face contorted in anger as he returned from his latest binge. I
can nearly feel the pain as his fists pound my chest and his eyes cry
out a single question "Why did she die?"

My only savior is the fact that they are together now in eternal rest.
I still have nightmares about them where I see them walking together
towards a burning building; as they enter it I see their skin melting
away and they reach out towards me, mouths open, beseeching me to help
them; I am powerless and feel the failure in my heart; I wake up in
tears.

Enough of that, today is a day of celebration for me. Looking into the
mirror I see the weariness that has crept over me the past few years as
I have searched for a meaning to life, a reason to continue fighting.
Gray hairs have appeared, giving me an almost distinguished look. The
gray hairs that are invading my head cannot discourage me from my good
mood though. Today is my day; the day when all my hard work and
achievements are finally recognized; today I become a partner.

Working as an accountant is not the easiest thing to do, years of study
combined with years of menial jobs have finally paid off. The owner of
the company, a mean ungrateful bull of a man may not like it, but the
directors have finally succumbed to my enigmatic skills and offered me
partnership in one of the satellite offices.

The afore mentioned owner, Paul Sowring, no longer controls the company
but he has made it very clear that he is not happy with the decision.
Luckily for the company, the directors have slowly managed to wrestle
power from this man. Paul is a very controlling man; regardless of
whether something is good for the company or not, he has to control all
the decisions. This has been a constant thorn in my side over the years
as I have tried to instigate a control and accountability in the
company.

Paul even had the audacity to stop his daughter from dating me. Despite
my convictions to marry her, he blatantly stopped me from seeing her
and so our love died before having chance to flourish. My heart still
flutters when I see her, although she no longer looks at me with a
longing as his acid words have tainted our love and poisoned her. All I
see now is a loathing that rips at the soul. Although she is cordial to
me, I can see in her eyes that the love has been replaced by a deep
hatred that borders on madness; her father manipulates her.

I try to keep the memories buried, to hide the anger, the hatred; it is
not easy but I have managed for five years. Five long years in which I
have held my temper so many times; if I had a penny for each time I
would have liked to hit Paul, then I would be a very rich man
indeed.

Glancing back at the mirror, I wipe away the tears of frustration and
think of happier things. The expectations of the week have been high;
although I had heard the rumors about my imminent promotion weeks ago I
did not receive the confirmation until last week. The other partners
called me into the boardroom and congratulated me personally; I noted
that Paul was not invited and this pleased me. I was told not to tell
anyone; an official announcement would me made shortly; this is perhaps
the hardest thing to do, keeping secrets has never been my forte.

People have been congratulating me all week, as the rumors about my up
and coming promotion circulate around the office. I swear it wasn't me
who started these rumors. Some of my fellow accountants are a little
jealous, perhaps feeling that they are more deserving of this
promotion, but that really is their problem and I have no time to worry
about their sorry feelings. Deep down inside I do feel a little sorry
for them, but I have worked very hard and feel justified that the
promotion is right.

Taking one more glance in the mirror, checking that my tie is perfect,
that no speck mars my suit, I turn and head towards the front door a
smile finally playing on my face. If I'd have looked a little closer I
would have seen the large brown stain on the back of my shirt. What a
start to the day!

2

Sitting in the car is one of the most relaxing things I can do. Many
drivers are aggressive and seem to be in a hurry to get somewhere. Not
me! I enjoy the quiet ride to work, reveling in the beauty of the open
countryside that passes by. Trees of every shape and color entice me to
join them in their quiet reverie, birds dig for worms, dogs chase cats
and children play. The beauty and peace is a great contrast from the
city.

As the road widens, being replaced by a concrete hell I start to become
less relaxed. Cars dart in and out, some dangerously, some nervously as
I stay in my lane and concentrate on getting to the office in one
peace. The motorway is unusually busy today and going far slower than
usual. Flashing lights warn me that there is more to the slow traffic
than mere congestion. I approach the crash with a morbid fascination;
like most drivers I crane my neck to see if I can spot any flailing
bodies, I often wonder what I would feel if I saw anything. I remember
as a child my mother told me to look away as we passed a crash, we were
on a bus, I can still remember the horrified scream of some ladies at
the back of the bus who had seen something that would probably haunt
their dreams for years.

As I began to look back something catches my eye. Perhaps my eyes are
playing tricks with me, but I would swear that a man just appeared out
of nowhere. This man was very distinctive. I would guess that he is a
Red Indian, this isn't an educated guess, but one based on some of the
old Cowboy and Indians shows I love to watch. What is most strange
about this man is his attire. Strange as it may seem he is dressed in a
loincloth and nothing more. His long dark hair flows down his back.
Decorating his body are the most fantastic and strange tattoos you have
ever seen. From where I sit I cannot see them too clearly, but they
seem to have a life of their own.

No one seems to have noticed the Red Indian strolling down the highway
to the accident. Perhaps everyone is intent on their destination or
they merely do not want to admit that he is there. Nevertheless he is!
Slowly he comes to a stop several yards away from the accident; his
head turns my way and our eyes lock. Something intangible passes
between us, an understanding, a bond that somehow links us.

Shaking of a feeling of doom I accelerate leaving the scene of the
accident, still feeling this strange man's eyes burning into my
soul.

3

Arriving at the office I head straight to my cubicle only stopping to
get a large coffee. I do not see the surprised glances of the people I
ignore as they greet me. Normally I am the friendliest most charming
man in the office; today I am surly and quiet.

Looking at my telephone, it's blinking light informing me that there is
a message waiting, I mutter to myself quietly
"God Damn it, can I not catch a break!"
Although I should be very happy today with my pending promotion and the
celebration party, I feel angry as a foreboding builds inside of me.
This feeling of foreboding must be nerves, why else would I be angry
and frustrated.

Slowly I relax and listen to my message

"John it's Kevin. I need your help with this reconciliation; I just
can't get a handle on it. Could you.."
I slam down the receiver in anger, seconds later I am dialing Kevin's
extension. Of course he is not in yet, increasing my anger and
derision. As I here the beep indicating that I should talk, I whisper
into the phone
"Kevin, this is John. I've had enough of your bullshit. I've cleaned
your diapers for years now, it's time you took responsibility and did
your own job". I am shouting now, a pent up anger fuelling my words. I
notice a few people looking my way and shout
"What?"
Still they look at me, concern mixed with embarrassment.
Trying to recover the situation I say
"Can a man not have a bad day anymore", I try my best most charismatic
smile and finally feel relieved when most of the faces relax and turn
away. One face remains fixed on me; Paul Sowring defiantly stares at
me, a mixture of pure hatred and amusement on his face; he hesitates as
if ready to speak then turns away nonchalantly.

"Fuck you" I whisper as he walks away.

Toying with the memos on my desk I start to wile away the time waiting
for the party to begin.

4

Four hours later I am in the boardroom. Everyone is present, even
Melissa, Paul Sowring's beautiful daughter. Initially my heart skipped
a beat as I saw her in her tight black dress, with her long blonde hair
flowing down her back and her beautiful green eyes staring back at me.
Then I saw Kevin's arm around her waist. Jealousy flowed into me and
for a second I hated Kevin. Then I calmed down as I remembered Kevin
nervously asking me if I would mind him dating Melissa. Although it
hurt me I said it was no business of mine.

Melissa continued to stare at me, lighting a fire in me that hadn't
existed for years. Almost sensing the fire and arousal she laughed and
slowly caressed Kevin's back almost baiting me.

Paul finally noticed me, nodded and called for attention

"Well we are all here finally" he said, with a little sarcasm "let us
begin"
"Today it is my pleasure to announce the promotion of John Stones". He
paused before the word 'pleasure' emphasizing that it was anything but
his pleasure.
"John has been with the company for ten long years and we have seen
many changes during this period. Some of these changes have helped put
us in a strong financial position. In an unorthodox way John has been
at the forefront of the accounting departments surge to control the
company&;#8230;"
I know there is a lot of sarcasm in his words, and that many people
will not realize this, but something distracted me, something out of
the corner of my eyes. Melissa was gently rubbing Kevin's crotch. I
didn't care about sexual exhibitionism normally, but with me she had
been frigid saying that she wanted to wait until we were married. Her
eyes locked on mine, lust evident as her mouth opened a little and she
gasped gently. I followed her eyes as she glanced down and I spotted
Kevin's hand disappearing beneath her skirt. I watched amazed as she
flaunted herself in front of me, somehow gaining pleasure from my
obvious anger and frustration. Before I could do anything or say
anything Paul's words once again permeated my brain.

"&;#8230;. You all know my feelings on the matter, but this is why
we have an enlightened board of directors to chose new partners." I
listened in amazement as he began to list the top ten reasons why I
shouldn't be promoted. Paul made the assembled crowd think he was
merely teasing me but I knew that these words came directly from the
heart.
"Number 10 &;#8230; he has the ability of an ape"
"Number 9 &;#8230; he smells"
"Number 8 &;#8230; he is uncouth"
Every barb he threw at me caused a wound to open. Every insult that
made the crowd laugh helped an anger build that refused to die.
"Number 4 &;#8230; he is gay, just ask my daughter", by now she had
disappeared no doubt fucking the brains out of Kevin.
Years of frustration and anger at Paul combined with the anger I felt
against the cancer that killed my mother. My face must be scarlet as I
move towards Paul, fists clenched teeth grinding. The laughter around
me sounds distant as I slowly move closer.
"Number 1&;#8230;." I probably never will know the number one reason
for I suddenly found that my fist was buried in Paul's face. Gleefully
I watched a red river flow down my arm as his eyes glazed over and he
keeled to the floor. The assembled people watched in a deathly silence;
seconds later several people rushed past me to help Paul, discordant
whispers started around me causing me to get even angrier
"Fuck the lot of you" I shouted as I ran out of the office.

Part 2 - A day of sorrow

1

I have heard that your life flashes before you just before you die, I
did not expect this to happen when your life wasn't in danger. However,
as I stood there watching Paul slump to the ground I experienced a rush
of emotion. The years of hard work I had put in to reach the pinnacle
of my career flashed in front of me; the years of toil against this man
whose blood now covered my shirt. In an instance of madness I realize I
have thrown all this hard work away; however satisfying the punch may
have been, I feel my whole world disappearing as I realized I have just
signed my resignation in Paul's blood.

"Oh Shit" I mutter as I realize what I have done.

Slowly I back away feeling everyone's eyes on me. People who I consider
friends look on me disdainfully as I have lost their respect. I do not
normally lose control; in fact I am normally very calm and patient. Why
did this have to happen today of all days?
A memory resurfaces from this morning; the picture of a strange Red
Indian somewhat out of place in the city emerges. The same sense of
foreboding I felt this morning begins to grow again. With determination
I begin to walk out of the office; for the last time I take the
elevator to the ground floor and storm out of the building.

Now that I have a quest I am somewhat relaxed. This Red Indian is
somehow important and I must find him. But how? How does one find a
strange Red Indian in a city full of variety? My brain begins to hurt
as I contemplate this and so I decide to have a quick drink to calm my
nerves a little and to gain a little time.

2

Avoiding the normal bars I frequent I turn down a back street and enter
a seedy looking bar.
As I enter I begin to wonder what I have done. Sawdust is scattered on
the floor; plain bar stools crowd around small tables. Four or five
large bikers stare at me, wondering why a 'suit' enters their bar.
Antagonistic mutterings reach my ears as I walk to the bar, the bar
tender, showing no emotion speaks loudly
"May I help you sir?"
"Whiskey, a large one" I answer, gaining a few positive mutters of "At
least he drinks real alcohol".
I swallow this in one go and immediately order another. Placing several
$20 bills on the counter I say
"Leave the bottle".
The bartender raises his eyebrows but leaves the bottle as requested.
As I continue to drink the whiskey, the day's events begin to blur as
the blanket of drunkenness envelops me. The bikers leave me to my own
thoughts as I sink lower and lower into depression. Wild thoughts enter
my head; "I'll kill the bastard" "Run him over" "shoot his fucking head
off" but these are soon replaced by more temperate thoughts "What the
hell am I going to do now" "Have to get a new Job" "At least I don't
have to look at Paul's ugly face again".
As I begin to move into reverie I look out of the window. To my
astonishment I see the Red Indian. The Red Indian is standing several
yards away staring at me. His dark brown eyes seem to bore into me as
he slowly smiles. Raising his hand in greeting he continues to stare at
me as if expecting something from me, a sign perhaps. I lurch out of
the chair, intent on catching this enigmatic man. Suddenly, I lose my
balance as I trip over an outstretched leg. Landing on my face, I feel
a crunch and a sharp pain as blood explodes from my nose. Looking
around I see that four figures surround me, I look over to the bar
hoping to find the bartender, but I am dismayed to find that he has
disappeared.
"And where do you think you are going?" shouts one of the bikers "You
haven't paid for your drinks"
"I left the money on the bar" I say shakily
"That was for your drinks" laughs one of the men "What about
ours?"
They roughly pick me up and begin to search my pockets. Quickly they
find my wallet and remove all my cash. I guess they have no need for
credit cards as they place the wallet back in my pocket
"That'll do nicely sir, now get the hell out of here"
With my pride damaged and my wallet somewhat lighter I count my
blessings that I managed to get out of the bar alive. As I stumble
through the doorway I can see no sign of the mysterious Red
Indian.

3

Swaying a little from the drink and also in intense pain from my nose I
stumble back to the office and head for the parking lot. My pride and
joy, my Jaguar, stands unharmed in its parking spot and soon I am
behind the wheel again. Perhaps because I am a little drunk or perhaps
because of the pent up anger due to the events of the day I forget my
normal driving style and accelerate out of the parking lot as fast as I
can.

Somehow I manage to get to the Parkway without hitting anyone or
anything. As I ease my Jaguar into the fast lane I see a car slowly
catching me. A red corvette soon is very close to me, it's driver
impatiently flashing their lights at me. Slowing to the speed limit I
laugh as I see the frustrated young driver weaving all over the road in
an attempt to get passed me. Suddenly he veers to the left of me and
accelerates.

"Cocky little bastard" I exclaim as I accelerate to match his speed.
Switching lanes I move behind him and begin flashing my lights. I'm
laughing hysterically as he tries to out accelerate me. I am merely
yards away as we move faster and faster. 60 70 80 90 100 110, I can see
his eyes in the mirror somehow imploring me to slow down. He moves to a
slower lane and I follow.

All sense of common sense has fled now, as my only intent is to ram
this idiot off the road and make the road a safer place to be. Suddenly
I become aware of something, a nagging itch at the back of my mind.
Looking in the mirror I see a car following me. Strange flashing lights
assail my senses and slowly but surely it dawns on me that a police car
has joined our little convoy.

Although my brain is a little befuddled with the drink and the pain, I
realize that I am in serious trouble. As I pull to the side of the road
and enviously watch the young punk pull away slowly, tears forming in
my eyes. This has got to be the worst day of my life.

The police officers exits his car and walks slowly towards me, he is
not more than 20 years old.
Winding down my window, I remove my driving license and find the
insurance documents for my car.
Before the young officer can say anything I hand him my
documents.
As he returns to the car to check my documentation I begin to hope that
I somehow will get out of this one with a slap on the wrists.

Five minutes later the officer returns.
"Step out of the car sir". As I step out of the car I suddenly feel
strange. The pressure of the day and the half-gallon of whiskey I have
drunk finally catch up with me. The last thing I remember is seeing the
officer calling for assistance.

4

My head is pounding as I wake up. It takes several seconds for my eyes
to focus, and as they do I begin to wish they hadn't. I am still in my
work clothes but these are dirty and covered in blood. My nose seems to
be clean now, and the blood has stopped dripping. I have some sort of
cotton ball placed in one nostril to stop the flow of blood I
assume.

I look around and guess that I must be in some sort of holding cell. I
can see an officer in the distance, through the bars filling in
paperwork but he hasn't noticed that I am conscious. Giving my self a
few seconds to get my bearings I sit on my bunk and cover my eyes with
my hands. My body is shaking as I begin to understand the trouble I
could be in.

Slowly I regain my senses, as I do I begin to realize that I am not
alone in the cell in fact I have a companion sharing my cell. Looking
around my mouth opens in surprise and amazement,

Kneeling on the bunk across from me, with his arms folded and a smile
upon his face is the man I have being trying to find for hours. The Red
Indian stares at me in obvious amusement for several seconds before I
begin to question him
"Who the hell are you?"
"Why are you following me?"
What do you want?"
His smile broadens as I realize that I have not given him time to
answer any questions.
With my embarrassment evident I offer my hand and apologize "I am
John.."
He interrupts me "I know who you are, I am Riding Wind, I have been
waiting for you all of my life."

Part 3 - reflections

1

Riding Wind shakes my hand vigorously his eyes glittering with mystery
and amusement. Looking at this strange man in front of me I feel the
same sense of foreboding that has dogged me for several days.

Riding is dressed in only a loincloth. Although I had seen his tattoos
before I didn't realize how detailed and realistic they were. Seeing my
eyes drifting over his body, Riding Wind spoke softly to me

"The tattoos represent my journey through life."
He points at one tattoo, which shows a man holding a spear as a boar
charges him.
"This is my rite of passage into manhood. I left the tribe for 14 days
and survived on my wits and my courage. On the last day I was surprised
by a wild boar; I slew the boar and was welcomed as a hero back to the
tribe. We feasted well that night"
"Where is your Tribe" I asked, Riding Wind didn't look like or dress
like any Red Indians I have seen before.
"My Tribe no longer exists, it has blown away by the winds of time and
I am the sole survivor. My quest has taken me far, through hazardous
days and nights to reach you."
"Why me?" I interrupt
"I am not sure if I can give you a conclusive answer to your question,
but I will try" he answers mysteriously.
"Many thousands of years ago when man was young and the world was new
and untouched, God visited my people. God guides mankind where he can
and rather than instigating divine intervention, God prefers to use
messengers, prophets and guides to do God's work. We were blessed and
chosen as guides.
Throughout the centuries we somehow knew which people needed guiding
and when this guidance was needed"
I still do not understand what all this had to do with me but I let him
continue
"I have known from childhood that I was to guide you. Look closely at
some of my Tattoos and you will see your face as a shadow."
He paused allowing me to look at the tattoos. A gasp of astonishment
escaped my lips as I saw my face subtly drawn in several of the
tattoos; I noticed that the face became clearer as the tattoos
progressed through his life and I was clearly visible in the latest
tattoos.
Riding Wind nodded and continued
"Our destinies have been entwined since the beginning of time and
although I cannot tell you why or how, I simply know this to be true.
Your life is undergoing an important change; this change is in
preparation for one even, the event you were born for. What happens
after this event I cannot say as I do not know; I am here to guide
you."
I shrug, half believing him. The cynical side of me thinks the man is a
nut, but the curious, inquisitive side of me is drawn in by the story.
The foreboding is beginning to diminish and be replaced by a strange
feeling of well-being.
" OK, you are her to guide me? Go ahead, guide me!"
Riding Wind smiles back at me
"I cannot guide you until the time is right. Perhaps this conversation
is the guidance perhaps not."
"Then why are you here now? Why choose this time in my life to appear.
I am in jail, I have lost my job, probably my driving license and most
likely any respect I have earned in the business community. I worked
long and hard to get where I am and now I have thrown it all
away."
The anger that has been building and erupting all day seems to flow
through me into this man. All I want to do is grab hold of him, tear
him limb from limb.
"Where the fuck do you get off telling me you are hear to guide me? I
didn't ask for your guidance and I don't need your guidance, so leave
me alone"
Riding Wind simply smiles and replies quietly
"We have no choice."
2

I have come to the conclusion that Jail food is even worse than School
Dinners or Hospital food. Perhaps it's because of the headache that is
pounding in my temples, or the ever present stare of Riding Wind, but I
cannot shake the feeling of foreboding that has suddenly come back with
a vengeance. Five minutes ago I finished my phone call to my lawyer who
said I should be out of jail on bail within the hour. As I am not
particularly a violent man they have set a small bail.

It remains to be seen if I will keep my driving license, this mainly
depends on the judge I get in next week's scheduled hearing, but at
least I get to drive home. This little luxury will at least make me
feel better; I don't have anything else to feel better about.

I can still feel Riding Wind's eyes boring a hole into my back; I
decided to turn away from him as he was beginning to make me feel
uncomfortable. I do not understand why he is in jail and to be quite
frank, I do not even care. For all I know he could be some strange
stalker who committed a minor crime to be in the same cell as me. I
realize that this is somewhat of a coincidence, how could he have known
I would get thrown out of the bar in the first place? Perhaps he
followed my car after I left the bar? Perhaps he was being a nuisance
with the police and therefore they arrested him as well!

Glancing over my shoulders I notice that his eyes are now closed;
perhaps I can get a few minutes peace without his eyes looking at me. I
begin to turn away but notice something strange. Riding River's breath
seems very shallow, in fact I could swear that he was not breathing.
Moving closer I detect that he is not breathing!

I call for the guard and frantically try to wake Riding River. Although
I do not like the man, I do not wish him any harm.
"Riding River. Wake up. Wake up God Damn it"
The guard moves to the cell and looks at us
"What going on here?"
With a panicked look in my face I shout at him
"Get some help, I think he's dead"
I can see the suspicion enter the guard's eyes as he replies
"Stay there I'll go and get someone"
"And where the hell do you think I'm going" I whispered as I laid
Riding River down on the cot.
I felt for a pulse and was dismayed to find that I could not feel one.
Five minutes later an elderly man arrived with the guard. A minute
later he is examining Riding River. Check his pulse, his chest, his
eyes he slowly nods his head in resignation
"I'm sorry, but this man is dead."
My heart sank, as much as I didn't like this man, he had said that our
destinies were linked. I somehow hoped against all odds that he was
right and that I was somehow special; but then nothing else had gone
right today why should this.

PART 4 - the end of the day.

1

As I leave my cell I overhear a strange conversation. The doctor who
pronounced Riding River dead is arguing with the guard.
"What the hell do you mean you have no record of him? Who arrested him,
surely you know this?"
The officer has a strange perplexed look on his face as he
replies
"No one arrested him, no one did any paper work, and no one knows who
he is! He has absolutely no paper work on him, our computers cannot
identify him; for all intense and purposes he does not exist"
The argument continues as I leave the building, receding into the
distance until it is no more than a dull noise blending in to the
background.
As I leave the building I immediately noticed the weather, gone was the
pleasant warm sun, replaced by a gale force wind and driving rain.
Lighting flashes in the dark skies above me as if the Angels are angry
at the world.
Several minutes later I am soaked to the skin but at least I am safely
back in my car. I wonder how long I'll be driving?
Forgetting about my worries for the moment, I place a Vivaldi cassette
in my cassette player and begin to hum softly along to the relaxing
music.
The hustle and bustle of the city doesn't aggravate me as I enter a
calm and relaxed world. Driving slowly and careful I head home,
courteously watching the road for other drivers and driving the way I
should always drive. Despite the fact that I may lose my license, I
feel that my experience with drunk driving has taught me to be more
aware of my surrounding and other drivers.
"What a day" I exclaim, finding yesterday's events both ludicrous and
funny. So I blew my chance of promotion, but for the first time in
years I feel alive, feel free! I have a little money stored away that
will see me through the next year or so, and I have had several offers
for consultancy work in the past few months; maybe I'll follow one of
these up. The first thing I am going to do is to book myself on a
flight to an exotic island and have some fun, maybe find a nice lady
and dance well into the night.
Probably for the first time in then years I am smiling broadly, and to
my surprise my face didn't crack.

2

The journey back to my house was mostly uneventful. There were no
crashes and no mysterious Red Indians. The anger that had dogged me all
day had now disappeared to be replaced by a strange calmness. There
wasn't much I could do about my actions of the day, so I decided not to
worry about them.

After all that had gone on today I still felt quite buoyant, almost
exhilarated; I had no reason to feel this good, but I accepted the
feelings.

As I pulled into my driveway I noticed a scuffle going on. Two large
boys, probably both about thirteen were pushing a smaller boy around.
The smaller boy was incredibly brave, his face fixed with a look of
determination. I could hear fragments of the conversation.
"Give us your money now" said one of the larger boys
"No I won't" said the small boys, fear and anger flaring in his eyes.
Despite the burliness of the two other boys he set his feet on the
pavement and attempted to hold the ground.
I approached quietly; trying to ascertain what was going on before I
barged in on them.
The largest boy continued
"Be reasonable Alfred, we'll protect you if you give us your money" no
doubt the larger boys action was inspired by some mobster movie where
brutes racketeered for protection money.
"NO" Alfred shouted, his stubbornness belying his small frame. The two
larger boys began to get a little rougher, pushing Alfred and punching
him on the soldier, still he stood resolutely refusing to pay up
"You'll be sorry he said.
Frightened that the fight was going to escalate and that Alfred would
get hurt I decided now was the time to intercede. Moving quickly I
placed myself between the three boys facing the two larger boys.
Unfortunately I had underestimated Alfred. My timing was out; for as I
moved between them, Alfred had pulled out a knife and thrust it towards
the two boys. His intent was to scare them, he did not expect someone
to jump in between the group.

Initially I didn't feel the knife; I knew something was wrong from the
shocked look on the boy's faces. Turning I saw Alfred holding a bloody
knife, a dazed look of incomprehension on his face.
Focusing on the knife, watching each drop of blood dripping slowly
downwards it occurred to me that the knife had my blood on it.

Slowly my bran began to register the pain. Starting somewhere around my
kidneys, the pain seemed to wash over me in a gigantic wave. I
staggered to my knees, coughing blood. I heard screaming around me as
things began to fade to black.

The pain is incredible almost unbearable. I know I am dying and I laugh
as I realize this really sums up the day. The initial shock of the
knife entering my body has been replaced by a strange satisfaction as
if destiny has somehow been fulfilled. I look at the three boys around
me, two in tears screaming for help, the other just standing there with
a large knife in his hand, his eyes open in fear and revulsion.

I try to speak to the boy, somehow reassure him that everything is
going to be fine, but all I can manage is a gurgle as blood surges out
of my mouth. The boy kneels, tears streaming down his face as he mouths
"Sorry", he drops the knife and his hands reach out for me. The last
thing I see is the boy gently lowering me to the ground.

As I fade into unconsciousness I become aware of a bright light
surrounding me. An incandescent light is enveloping me picking me up
gently and carrying me away slowly. As I begin to gain some form of
consciousness I can see a figure moving towards me. As he gets slowly
nearer, I break into a large grin as recognition hits
me&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;..

Epilogue

Walking towards me, hands outstretched in welcome is Riding River. As
he arrives he smiles and begins to talk quietly
"Welcome to the afterlife my friend, I am here to fulfill my destiny
and to guide you to your place in the afterworld."

As I walk with this man I feel contented, my life on earth is over but
my afterlife is just beginning.