Random
The Middle Man : Chapter 1
His eyes had failed him; the world he awoke to was nothing but blackness. He blinked his eyes a bit, trying to jump-start his eyesight. Nothing. His head was heavy, as if from too much sleep, but he felt his heart begin to race as panic found him, alone in the dark.
“Take it slowly…” the kind, warm voice put him at ease. The voice came from a young man but sounded thick with years. “…You are safe. Try looking again.”
As he opened his eyes he could see soft light reflected off the floor, which his cheek seemed to be pressed against. The light increased slightly, or maybe it was his eyes remembering their purpose.
The room was still mostly black, but brightening now to the glimmer of light in which he lay. The floor was smooth and cool, made from some inky stone. He became aware of the warm hand on his shoulder blade and the soft, rhythmic breath of his companion in the dark.
The unknown man crouched next to him was calm and relaxed. His dark hair almost reached his shoulders but was neatly groomed. His complexion was light brown and his eyes deep wells in the weak light. He had never seen this man before, but he was strangely comfortable with this comfortable stranger.
“Your name is Random…” the voice flowed.
“The full name is even more ridiculous.” He cleared his throat slightly. “Random Bridges.” The sleep left his voice as he pushed himself up on an elbow. “But thankfully it’s the product of a father with a twisted sense of humor rather than anything as unseemly as an acting career. He didn’t even bother with a middle name, the bastard.”
The man smiled, with his eyes as much as with his face. The smile was nourishing. “That opening never fails to get a laugh, does it? It must be nice…” His focus went a little soft. “…to always have laughter in your first meetings. Smart man, that ‘old bastard’ of yours.”
Random had received many responses to his well-rehearsed little skits starring his uncommon name during his lifetime, but never one so incisive and disarming. He reeled at the respect for his father that suddenly settled on him like an ill-fitting jacket. He found himself taking a shaky breath in.
The stranger’s smile retreated. “I, however, do not have such luxury. My name is Joe, and you are dead.”
There are many different types of silences, from awkward to tense to foreboding. This one was distinct: it was completely empty. Joe simply looked at Random and added nothing to the moment. Random sat propped on one elbow on the stone floor, holding his gaze. The look in Joe’s eyes left no room for the stages leading up to acceptance. It was simply a statement of fact. It left very little for Random to say, other than…
“I see. Can you help me stand up?”
His body reacted slowly, as if it was filled with cold paste. Joe patiently offered his arm and a firm stance. At last Random stood. He was taller than Joe — but he was taller than most people. If he had to guess, Joe was a few inches shy of six feet.
“Joe?”
“Yes, Random?”
“Not Satan or Lucifer or Nick?”
“Not Jesus or Mohammed or Buddha, either.”
Random looked around the featureless space in which he stood. “Well, if that’s the case, who exactly are you, then…in the scheme of things?” Joe didn’t answer. They took a few more steps in the strange light. “If I’m dead, why do I feel like someone just beat me up? I’m walking like I’m ninety years old.”
“You are adjusting to things here, and you are doing it more quickly than most.” Joe said still guiding his steps. “This is not your body; it is your memory of your body. You are a person who is accustomed to visualization, so it is easier for you. Some people can barely move when they first arrive.”
“Well, it looks like art school was good for something, then,” Random chuckled.
Joe stopped and looked him dead in the eyes. Joe’s eyes were deep. One minute Random felt reassured, the next he felt uncomfortable as one so heavy with years looked through him. “Your skills are more important than you would think. I’ve been watching you and wanted to be here to greet you personally.” He paused and did not blink as his dark eyes pierced into Random’s.
Joe suddenly stiffened and his attention darted off as if he’d heard a noise in the distance. His grip on Random’s arm was harsh and wooden.
“I’m sorry I have to do this, but we have run out of time.” Joe reached to the left, where nothing had been in the featureless space, and slid open a rice paper door. Light blazed from beyond it. He grabbed Random by both biceps and easily squeezed his somewhat limp body together.
“This will be disorienting…and you may pass out.”
“What are you…”
Joe rolled through the door as if he were jumping from a train, heaving Random’s greater weight with him. They went into free-fall, the light blinding, and the sound of acceleration blowing past their ears.
Random screamed and closed his eyes, expecting an impact that did not come, feeling only wind and speed. No, not like jumping from a train at all. Like exiting an aircraft.
He remembered the time he’d shot off his big mouth one drunken night and found himself at Aeroporto Municipal de Ijuí with some Brazilian asshole that was going to make him keep his word. Fucking tequila. Random knew his ass had to cash the check his drunken mouth had written. Crammed into a gutted Cessna 182 and trying not to vomit during an ascent that took thirty minutes. The jump ended up being a welcome relief from the claustrophobia of the plane.
He opened his eyes. Free-fall. His body snapped into the position they had taught him that bleary morning in Brazil. He snatched a hand to his chest to check for his rig, then extended it again to re-balance his falling body when he found nothing but his shirt.
Joe grabbed his right wrist and swung quickly around to grab his left, bringing them face-to-face and belly to earth. Random could see the gentle curve of the horizon behind Joe, then glimpsed the green canopy below them with a river running through it.
Joe smiled and laughed. He yelled over the rushing air. “I could not have done better myself! Perfect!”
Random failed to see the perfection that was pleasing Joe so much in that moment, but Joe then locked eyes with him and gained his attention. The air rushing by them seemed to quiet and Joe’s voice amplified. “Now think of the hike through the rainforest, the long one where the air was damp in your lungs and your leg hurt from the branch that had scraped it, and you heard the noises that you realized were spider monkeys…”
Random felt weight on the soles of his feet. He broke from Joe’s gaze to find himself standing under the green Costa Rican canopy, in the exact place that he remembered, with the strange whinny of the spider monkeys in the damp hot air. Joe stood in front of him and smiled. He sat down on a log and heaved a sigh as he glanced at the ground and then back at Random.
“Welcome to the afterlife, Mr. Bridges.”
The story of the Middle Man will continue…
