Wurst

Mary Wurst unloaded the dishwasher, a part of her daily, extremely mundane routine. At two o'clock on this Wednesday afternoon, her son would be home in roughly two hours. So, before his arrival she would almost be completing her daily chores and by the time he arrived she would be close to having all of the laundry done and put away, to allow her time to start dinner at a reasonable hour.

The thought of calling a plumber ran through her mind as she zoned out watching the faucet drip. Fat, wet drops of water hit the white sink as she watched. Why did everything seem to pronounce itself more when you're alone? Being alone never bothered Mary before, however as of late the household chores and the homemaking time climbed higher and higher on her nerves. Dripping faucets, car alarms from outside, email alerts, refrigerator noise; it all seemed to go on for the sole purpose of unnerving her.

Realizing that it was now two thirty and she had been staring at the faucet for the last half hour, she went to the medicine cabinet and got out a white horse pill. Her perfect, white, manicured hands unscrewed the cap and she picked a glass up out of the dishwasher and made her way over to the faucet to fill it with water. She poured herself some water and swallowed the pill, ten minutes later her realization of a drippy faucet and a mundane existence was a distant memory.

Having disconnected herself from reality, Mary got back to the dishes and opted to lose herself doing that instead of staring at the faucet. A fly on the wall of Mary's house (if you could find one) would tell you that the happy pills were a last resort. She had attempted everything to make her insides match the out. When at first she felt a little sad it was a couples get away, with her husband Bill. Upon their return, when she realized her demeanor was still unfixed she tried new exercise methods. A yoga class, with an instructor half her age to regulate her biochemistry, give her more energy. Uplifting books, she hoped would fill the emptiness of her day. A doctor who asked a lot of questions and told her fresh air was a sure fix for her sadness and so she took long hikes and walks. Some of these remedies provided small doses of relief, for a little while, however it still wasn't enough. A small part of her brain was a constant reminder of her own reality. So eventually, the doctor prescribed the drugs and regular therapy. The drugs had the ultimate power to shut her mind off, the therapy simply kept the doctor off her back.

Mary was not the only woman on her block to medicate and fix her problems; she wasn't even the first woman on her block. The fact that she was going along with the crowd was a regular part of her life. In high school she was a cheerleader, popular, part of the in crowd, lost her virginity when all of her friends did, tried drinking when all of her friends did. In college it was a sorority. All of her girlfriends from high school had done it at their respective schools, it was also what her mother had done. So, Mary pledged Delta Pi Gamma, and majored in German, which was a degree that she put to use for about six months after she graduated and married Bill. After her marriage, which happened around the same time as all of her friends, she pretty much began keeping house, and having kids, and had been doing so ever since.

Mary finished folding the laundry; this signaled the end of her chores. She sat on the couch and picked up a copy of Women's Wear Daily to stare at aimlessly until her son Kevin walked through the door. Fifteen minutes after four, he did.

"Mom! How's it going?" he yelled as he walked in. Kevin was a cheerful kid, a great kid, pretty much everyone thought. Seventeen, a math whiz, a decent enough basketball player and an active member of the church youth group in the midsize town Mary's family lived in. He was the result of excellent parenting combined with the ability to maintain a positive outlook on life, despite what he knew. Kevin knew his mother had problems- as well as he knew that his father was pursuing other options outside of their cozy four bedroom house. Knowing both of these things made Kevin's mind up: one more year of school and then it was vital he go to college- out of state.

"Kevin, how was school?" Mary looked up from her magazine and smiled robotically at her son.

"Good, good. I turned in my English essay and shot a few baskets after class, now I think I'm headed to get a little shut eye before dinner if that's okay, you don't need help or anything?" Kevin hastily recounted the events of the day, eager to get upstairs into the privacy of his room. Secretly, he hated the portion of his day where he felt obligated to share mindless small talk with his mother and felt that though it was only a couple of minutes it was a couple of minutes he couldn't get back.

"Absolutely fine, I have everything under control. I'll wake you up when it's ready, alright son?" Mary smiled again as she got up to start dinner. Kevin headed upstairs to stare at his collection of Hustler and "nap".

Mary went into the kitchen and got the pork roast she thawed earlier that day out of the refrigerator. She pulled out four large baking potatoes to make mashed potatoes and paused to figure out a vegetable. Mary decided on peas and got them out of the freezer. She put a red apron on over her blue long sleeve crew neck and began to prepare dinner for her family.

At four minutes after seven o'clock, Mary's husband Bill walked in. "Hello sweetheart." Mary greeted him as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Smells good in here." Bill was an excellent husband, at face value. He stayed an excellent husband by leading a double life. Every morning he left the house at five, drove into Chicago and went to his office. He got there three hours before everyone else, so he could leave at two o'clock, in order to go take care of "other affairs".

Bill was an attorney for a firm that specialized in wills and testaments. His job was so boring he actually contemplated killing himself until he met Julie. Julie was a law student at DePaul University, where Bill graduated law school. Bill was meeting a colleague for lunch, when he got cancelled on one day. Rather than sit at the little restaurant across from Lincoln Park Zoo and eat a tuna melt, he decided to grab a monster dog and head back to work. On his way to the hot dog stand, he saw a beautiful young woman with her heel stuck in a grate outside of The Belden Stratford. He was dying to have contact with someone, anyone else, even just a few words exchange, and this woman was absolutely stunning. Long chestnut hair that fell past her shoulders in soft curls, warm, golden skin and huge aqua blue peepers, not to mention a world class chest with legs for days.

Bill helped her get her shoe out of the grate and bought her a cup of coffee. Coffee turned into a drink and a drink turned into drinks and those drinks turned into Bill going back to The Belden Stratford and screwing Julie for an hour. He remembered the first time they were intimate like it was yesterday. All he could think about was the fact that his wife wouldn't so much as put a hand down his pants and here was this beautiful twenty five year old opening her legs, taking off her top. He figured she was probably a light weight and he was getting lucky, so he would enjoy it while he could. He left his business card, just in case. He was surprised to get a call from her the next week.

"Hey big guy, think you'd ever see me again? I wanted to meet up with you tonight." God, Bill thought, her voice alone could get me off.

"Julie! Sure, uh, did you want to get a drink or something first?"

"No. I want to sit on you for an hour first."

Bill hung up; he had no idea how to say no to that. When he knocked on her door again she was wearing pair of heels and nothing else. He had so many questions he wanted to ask her, like why a beautiful woman like her would rather be with him, a man twice her age and married. However when Bill opened that door, he temporarily forgot. He asked later though, lying in bed.

"I don't know. I guess it's a turn on because I feel like a dirty, hot, young mistress or something." Julie shrugged.

"If you want to be my mistress, we could arrange something."

"We'll see. I do like screwing you." Julie smiled and put on some clothes.

Ever since that, Bill had adjusted his business hours. He had made an arrangement so that he could leave the office and spend three hours a day with Julie, still getting home early enough to avoid his wife's suspicions. When he needed continuous time with Julie, he would tell Mary he was going on a company retreat and take her to New York for the weekend.

Little did Bill know that even if Mary had known about his infidelity, she wouldn't have cared. She had become so engrossed at this point in her own mental health, or lack thereof. She used to worry about how happy Bill was, how happy Kevin was. However as she became more medicated, her worries, thoughts, any normal sophisticated brain function had all sort of jumbled into one ball of static mess, through which she could only detect unhappiness and dissatisfaction.

"Yes, chili rubbed pork roast, cheesy mashed potatoes and peas. Sound good?" Mary gave Bill the same fake smile she had given Kevin.

"It does. Let me get this tie off. I'll be down in twenty." Bill returned Mary's make believe affection and headed up the stairs.

"Bill, while your up their could you wake up Kevin for dinner?"

Bill knocked on the door to his son's room and poked his head inside. "Twenty minute warning for dinner. How you doing, son?" The relationship Bill and his son shared couldn't actually be described as a strong one. For his sixteenth birthday, his father had been overwhelmed by guilt from his affair, so he purchased Kevin the red Jeep Wrangler Kevin had been eyeing all semester. When Kevin turned thirteen, his father had been gunning for partner at his firm and had spent next to no time at home, so he bought new basketball uniforms for Kevin's team. He was what you could call a fair-weather father whose shining moments were holidays and birthdays, because those were the occasions that he felt he "made up" for not being the best all year round. Kevin understood his fathers bull shit and returned the same false affection, telling his Dad how he understood that he would miss the playoff game, how it was okay that he had broken a date to help him with his school applications. Kevin knew the more he "understood" the more guilt he could build up in his dad and the more loot he could rake from it.

"I'm doing alright, Dad. How's things?" Kevin looked up from his computer screen at his father. He knew the nights his Dad saw another woman before coming home. When he went without it, he noticed his Dad didn't bother to change before dinner, ate quickly and quietly and went strait to his office after to play solitaire until two a.m. The nights his Dad did see someone else were a different story. He came home all chatty and relaxed and happy, prolonged dinner with almost funny stories from the office and wanted to know how everything was with everybody.

"Things at the office are great. I actually had to go to trial for a widow I'm defending against the sister of the deceased. Guy left everything to the widow and the sister is none too pleased. The widow is pretty generous though, offered the stiff's sis and lump sum and it seems like everything will be settled tomorrow. You should think about majoring in Political Science, bud. I mean when you get to a university. Being a lawyer can be a real hunt!"

"We'll see, Dad. Hey, speaking of Poli Sci, I have a project due, any chance you could give me a hand Saturday?" Kevin was smirking inside. He wasn't even taking Poli Sci this semester and there's no way either of his parents would realize that.

"You know, Son, I have to go to New York this weekend. Lots to do, I'm working on a new case. But, I'll be forfeiting my box seats for the Cubs game, you want 'em?" Bill knew Kevin wouldn't turn the tickets down, and he also knew that if he cancelled on Julie this weekend she would have a major meltdown. Box seats were a small price to pay to avoid an angry mistress.

"Yeah, if they aren't going to get used and I finish up in time I might take advantage of that." Yeah, I'll get drunk with a few friends and take the subway over there while I waste the whole day buying booze and food with your credit card! Kevin thought.

"Bill! Kevin! Could you come down here and eat? Dinner is getting cold!" Mary yelled from the top of the stairs and both men went down to enjoy a hot meal and "genuine" conversation.

After dinner, Mary cleared the plates and finished the dishes, cleaning up the kitchen. She popped another horse pill and went to join Bill on the couch for Deal or No Deal and Who's Line? Kevin watched a little also, and then got a phone call from his friend Chris to meet up and smoke some pot. He told his parents he and Chris had to work on The Poli Sci project and headed out the door.

The drugs took Mary's head over around nine and she began to dose off. Bill nudged her to wake her and then helped her upstairs. As soon as she was sound asleep, he got on the internet and began planning his weekend with Julie. They could stay at The Plaza just like usual, and Wicked was playing so there was Saturday night, Sunday they could eat at Two Towers. He made all the reservations and booked a couple of plane tickets, and then was free to play solitaire for a few hours. He went to lye down allowing the fond memory of the maitre d' at The Plaza always thinking Julie was his wife to consume his head. She looked so stunning wherever he took her, it made him so proud that someone would think they were married. With his actual wife in an anti-depressant induced coma next to him, he happily went to dream land while visions of his sugar coated mistress danced in his head.

~

Mary's alarm called for her to get out of bed at seven. To avoid any nasty withdrawal symptoms, Mary always kept her morning dose in her nightstand with a glass of water nearby. After taking that, she got in and out of the shower and turned on The Today Show. If she could switch lives with anyone it would be Meredith Viera. Meredith was always so put together, so funny. Mary knew Meredith wouldn't have to pop pills before she sat down to do her reports, that Meredith woke up with a clear head each day. How neat must her life be.

Mary was ready for the day as she saw Kevin off at eight for school. She had put on a collared white shirt, a solid baby blue knee length, A line skirt and a sterling silver bracelet. She had to look good, because today was her day with Dr. Cerranto. Dr. Cerranto would prescribe more drugs, after asking Mary a bunch of useless questions concerning her life and her sickness. These doctors were so naïve, Mary thought, to think they could fix her. It had been two years and if anything her symptoms were worse. She had gone shopping with her friend Ruth one day and forgotten her meds. They hadn't been at the mall nearly two hours and she had to make up an excuse to go back to the house. It wasn't like she was channeling therapy sessions when her symptoms worsened. It used to be that she just felt sad, but now it was more complex. Anxiety and fear accompanied the emptiness she felt, and without the drugs she was about as useful as a plane crash.

Mary got into her silver Lexus sedan (a very expensive I'm-sorry-I'm-a-cheat-and-you-don't-know-it present from Bill) and drove about twenty minutes into Champagne. Dr. Cerranto was in a modest but very pleasant and quiet office, perfect for a practice. He was of Latin- American descent, born in Illinois and graduated a year early from high school, eager to get on to medical school. He became what he saw as "totally independent" at age thirty five, owned his own practice and felt that he was a little too important to be bothered with a case like that of Mary Wurst. He was preoccupied with trying to get published again, balancing a practice and a marriage with a very unhappy wife who wanted a child. So, the way he saw it, he could talk to the old broad for a few minutes every month or so and then dose her with more happy pills and she would be golden. Odd, because to Mary those few minutes that Dr. Cerranto was reluctant to spare her were seen by her as a few minutes too many.

"Mary, he'll see you now." One of Dr. Cerranto's physician's assistants called her back. She had a seat in his office, and after about ten minutes he came in. Mary had found that most doctors had a warm presence when they entered a room, and Cerranto was no exception. She felt better for a minute and then she felt like getting down to the task at hand, which was getting re-juiced.

"Alright, Mary", Dr. Cerranto smiled as he walked in. White coat with a button down Brook's Brother's shirt underneath, khaki slacks and a thousand watt smile greeted Mary. She smelled the comforting familiarity of Polo cologne and was put at ease.

"Well, hello Dr. Cerranto. How's everything?"

"Everything's great, Eleana is good; we are still trying to get pregnant, but she has been taking estrogen so it should be any day now! Very exciting, how about you? How are you feeling?" Dr. Cerranto didn't even sit down, keeping his pen poised to sign off on more drugs.

"You know, I'm getting along. I'm keeping up with that yoga you recommended and that and the prescription is a god send." Mary lied. She didn't want to admit to herself how dependent she was, let alone the doctor.

"Great, good to hear it, so any complaints, questions, admonitions for me?" Dr. Cerranto was pleased that this exchange was only taking a minute.

"Nope, just coming in for our little chat so you can okay me for a refill," Mary came right to the point. She used to engage the doctor in conversation. She felt that if she asked him all kinds of questions about her problem, then he would have less of an issue prescribing more drugs. She was slowly figuring out that Dr. Cerranto couldn't forget her fast enough, which was fine with her. Really for what both of them wanted out of the relationship it was fine. Mary wanted to get her drugs filled and Cerranto wanted to be able to get on with his day, so it was one of those win-win situations.

"Okay, great!" Clearly Dr. Cerranto didn't mind. He could get back to his life with these nonsense appointments out of his way.

Mary left Dr. Cerranto's and hit up Ed and Al's pharmacy. She then picked up four Cornish game hens and some sage from the farmer's market for dinner. She absolutely couldn't wait to pick up her prescription and get back to her run of the mill existence.

And she did. She saved her hens and sage in lieu of Kevin's cravings for sesame chicken and wonton soup. Bill called and said he would be late and would probably just stay in the city, so Mary ordered Chinese for her and Kevin. She ate spicy eggplant and fell asleep on the couch watching the ten o'clock news.

~

This was Mary's life. It's just the way it was. She kept on keeping on, never realizing deeper feelings may be building beneath her very pleasant exterior. She never addressed the underlying family problems or marriage problems, because no one else in her family was and as time when on it seemed to have less and less of a purpose to do so. The only real problem was that the feelings were building up anyway. Despite if anyone noticed or not. The feelings at the end of the day were still there. It was getting down to the wire, and even though no one saw it coming it was only a matter of time before something had to give.

The next week was the kicker. Mary had agreed to come to one of Kevin's basketball games, at his behest though he (secretly) hoped that she'd be too dosed to show up. In reality, Mary was far too dosed to show up, but ironically the drugs made it okay for her. She put on more makeup than usual, a low cut red sweater and black slacks on. It would be great to tell you that the sweater was also a result of the drugs, but the truth is Mary thought it looked great, and sometimes was jealous of the plastic moms who came to games and shifted the player's attention from the cheerleaders, not to mention the opposing team.

Mary got a seat in the bleachers by herself. Other mom's that she was acquainted with smiled half heartedly at her and devoted a minute or two of their gossip to her addiction and cheating husband in between cheering for their sons. The way that those women were built they could discuss an axe murderer moving in next door without so much a flinching a facial muscle. Their attitude was suited to the upscale neighborhood they lived in. Everyone and anything was fair game: who else your husband was sleeping with, how much money he made, his promotion, his demotion, your kids, your faith, literally anything.

Kevin scored eight points, six of which were three pointers. Mary clapped demurely watching her son and said, "Go, Kevin!" loudly enough so that the other mom's would hear, but she wouldn't look silly. After the game Kevin came up and awkwardly greeted his mother.

"Mom! I didn't think you'd make it," Kevin smiled uncomfortably, hoping to shirk her quickly so he could go get high and eat with the rest of the team.

"Oh, Kevin, but you asked me to come. You played so beautifully." Mary beamed at her son, "Let me take you out for an ice cream or a burger." Mary was as high as a kite, and ironically, while Kevin was thinking his mom was dying to take him out, Mary was praying that Kevin would say no. She was very afraid her mood would shift and then she would have to survive a dinner at some dreadful teenage hangout, sans being heavily medicated, or worse feeling more medicated than a teenager at a rock concert.

"Gee, mom, I'd love to, it's just the team always goes out after a win. Coach Kaufman's orders, is that cool?" Kevin knew his mother didn't care enough to make a scene in front of, well, anyone.

"Oh, sure sweetie, I didn't know. See you later then." Mary smiled half heartedly as Kevin kissed her on the cheek as quickly as he could. Both of them were relieved at the idea of not having to sit through an obscure evening with the other.

The game was sort of the straw that broke the camels back for Mary. On one hand, her drug habit was doing an excellent job of concealing her feelings. On the other hand, her family's Cleaver on the outside, Manson on the inside act was tearing away at her. Rightfully so, Mary had stopped participating in any real feelings. Because she had scared her feelings off with drugs for so long, she had no coping mechanisms, no suit of armor to go to bat against what was inevitably going to catch up with her.

What happened after that happens to a lot of women. Some would argue to all people. Something snapped. All of a sudden Mary looked around and saw the team walking off, the mothers chatting, the families running around. She felt a sharp jolt in her temple and it was almost like the acknowledgement of life outside the Wurst house was simply too much to take. Mary began sweating and she felt short of breath. I must get out of here before something embarrassing happens to me, I must not faint, I must not faint, I must not faint. Mary walked brusquely and immediately towards her car, repeating that mantra to her self, clicked the button for unlock ten times too many and got inside. She still felt short of breath and very strange. This was a sensation she had never known before. It was like all of those people had just seen her naked, or had at once found her most embarrassing moment out. She felt like every single person back there was talking about her. It burned behind her ears. Medicine. Oh god, had she taken her medicine at all today? She seemed to remember taking a dose and a half earlier, she knew how noisy the game would be, so she thought about doubling up but only took a half. Perhaps the pills were marked wrong. Yes, that must be it! The pills are marked wrong. There isn't enough medicine in a single dose to sustain what I usually take, she thought. Without a second thought, Mary shoved the car key into the ignition and hightailed it out of the parking lot and back home.

Mary arrived at her home approximately ten minutes later. She frantically exited her vehicle and made her way into the house. Opening up the medicine cabinet she found what would become her permanent solution. Damnit, how much was dangerous to ingest? Call Dr. Cerranto... no time. These things can't kill you can they? No, they don't' prescribe anything that can actually kill you. I will just tell Dr. Cerranto I made a mistake tomorrow when I talk to him...

With her inhibitions at bay and her right frame of mind nowhere in sight, Mary proceeded to ingest the rest of the bottle. For those of you who have never been on a prescription, Mary had just had hers refilled a few days ago. So the rest of her dose was three and three quarters of a month's worth. Two pills a day, one hundred milligrams. Twenty five days left. Do the math. Mary just needed the sensation to stop. Having no idea what caused it, and no idea how to fix it, Mary simply took two pills at a time until she felt numb.

And then she felt nothing.

~

Kevin returned home almost four hours after his mom's binge. He walked into the front door and went to the living room to tell his mother he was home. When he didn't find her, he assumed she had gone to bed. He walked right past her dead body without looking into the kitchen. Morbid as this sounds, she's dead folks. It isn't as if she's going to wake up. Nevertheless, it was Bill who found Mary, dead as a doornail, the next morning.

"KEVIN! KEVIN! KEVIN! Get down here, now!" Bill never cared enough about his son to scream at him, plus which Kevin had never been caught doing anything to warrant being screamed at. So when the sound of his father's blood-curdling scream hit his ears Kevin assumed the worst a seventeen year old boy assumes- that one of the neighbor girls was pregnant or they found his collection of dirty magazines, or they found the ounce of marijuana hidden in his gym locker.

Kevin stumbled out of bed and down the stairs trying to prepare an excuse in his head for whatever he had done and fast. However, when he saw his mother's dead body he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt a chill rundown his spine. He looked at his dad, horror stricken and squeaked out the words, "Huh? She's not... is she?"

His father was just as terrified. "I don't know, I just got here, I stayed in the city last night, I was busy, I didn't call, and I wanted to come home for a clothes change this morning..." Excuses of why his wife's death was not his fault poured out of Bill's mouth. It wasn't as if Bill had anything to do with this directly, however at that moment for some reason he felt more responsible for his wife than he had in a long time. It didn't really matter to Kevin, who was too much in shock to decipher his father's barely audible ranting. Somewhere inside him, shades of a responsible person tugged at Kevin's gut reaction and he clapped his hands loudly.

"Dad! Stop it. We need to check and see if she has a pulse. I learned that in health. I will check and you call an ambulance."

"If she's dead do we really need an ambulance?" Bill still was not making any sense.

"Yes, dad, we aren't doctors, only a doctor decides if a person is dead, now go call and give me some room!" Kevin snapped at his father.

He bent down and put his middle and index finger to his mother's neck. Nothing. He turned over her left wrist. Still nothing. He put his ear up to her nose and mouth. Not breathing. Kevin knew his mother was gone. He stared at her body in horror, and for the first time in a long time he wished he was younger, so he wouldn't understand any of what was going on. A combination of shock from his mother's passing and shock from seeing a corpse up close for the first time came over Kevin all at once. For what seemed like an hour to him, he just fixated on his mother's face.

"Yes, hello, my name is Bill Wurst. I need an ambulance to 2134 Vicksburg Ave. right away, something happened to my wife..." Bill gave the dispatcher information as Kevin took three steps away from his mother's lifeless body. He sat on the bottom step and put his burning cheeks in both hands and just continued to stare.

~

Somewhere else, Mary Wurst is waking up. There are many stereotypes of what happens after you die. Some think if you have led a good life then clouds and golden gates and angels and a forgiving God await. Naughty? Well a fiery hell pit awaits, complete with demons and large red devil, to meet and condemn you for eternity.

When people actually die, they realize they have been operating under some pretty grandiose notions all these years. One definite thing that happens when you die is that you meet me. I mean, who did you think was telling you this story, God? He's got a lot of other shit to do! I'm James. I'm an ASS, literally and figuratively, but what I mean there is that I'm An Active Stable Soul. I help recently deceased folks make sense of their life and death. Nice to meet you, too. Just so you don't get your panties in a wad, I am a figure from Mary's past, not just some random ASSHOLE (Actively Seeking Serenity Here Or Lands Elsewhere) from the afterlife. The difference in an ASS and an ASSHOLE is an ASS is a soul that has been through the journey of understanding where you make sense of your life and death and are willing to go on to your final resting place and live in eternity peacefully. An ASSHOLE refuses to do so, wandering from purgatorium to purgatorium, pestering other souls. ASSHOLE's don't believe in passing on to a final resting place, so they don't ever take the journey to make sense of their lives. They are tormented beings, and for that I pity them, however, they are truly a pain in the ass when I'm trying to do my job. I mean, I wander about purgatoriums too, but sue me, I work here.

I chose for Mary Wurst to awake in a bathroom. When you do my job, it can be hard to get folks to conceive the point that they are dead. So I was hoping a bathroom with one toilet, a mirror and a medicine cabinet might do the trick. Why I thought at the time this would help Mary understand that she'd passed along, I don't know. At about the same time an EMT was announcing Mary's time of death, she was lifting her head off of the billowy toilet I had crafted to look like a hospital bathroom.

Mary opened her eyes, like a baby animal does. Slowly, seeing the world for the first time. Her head was resting on the toilet, her arms and hands below her head with her knees together and at a ninety degree angle. Hm, she took a deep breath before checking out her surroundings. Oh God, am I at the hospital?

"This is not exactly God's department," I answered her. "And you're definitely not at the hospital."

"Where am I and who are you? Did I even just say that out loud?" Mary answered me, extremely frightened.

I tend to hide myself for the first few minutes. I mean it isn't like I look like a ghost, I look like a regular guy. However the booming-voice-from-nowhere seems to have a commandeering effect on people, especially the recently deceased. And trust me, commandeering is good, commandeering is what you want when you have to convince someone that they're dead.

"Well for one, no you thought it to yourself and for two, you're dead and I'm sort of like a customer service representative for dead people, except I have nothing to sell. So, think of me as a tour guide. I will be assisting you with-"

"Oh, this is a dream. I get it." Mary shut her eyes and put her head back on the toilet, cutting me off. Drat, this will be more difficult than I thought.

"Mary, have you taken your medication today?" This one always seems to get the pill poppers. I placed an empty pill bottle behind the bathroom mirror in the medicine cabinet, the second that she finds it-

Mary looks around the bathroom and reaches behind the mirror to the cabinet. She opens her pill bottle, just as she had done a hundred other times and to her shock, but not mine, it was empty. "Am I out of my prescription? I just saw Dr. Cerranto, hardly last week..."

"MARY! We need to talk. My name is James. I'm a part of your afterlife. You overdosed on happy pills, back therein the real world-"

"Damn dream." Mary rested her head back on the toilet bowl. For the love, I mean guys, I don't get paid hourly for this. I hate to be an extremist, but you have to do what you have to do. It's like my voice was instant Novocain for her, not the effect I was looking for. It was time for a grade A wakeup call followed by some truth serum.

"Mary, could you look into the toilet bowl for me?" (If this doesn't wake her up I don't know what will.) Get them to look into the toilet bowl and then spray water into their face. A small but turbulent stream of toilet water splashed Mary's face directly when she looked inside.

"THAT WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESARY! Who the hell are you? Where the hell am I? I demand someone to answer me right this instant." Mary looks like she's about to blow a fuse major. I told you that trick worked. Good time for me to step in and show myself.

"Hey there, do you want to take a walk? I can explain things a little better..."

"Professor Duncan?"(Always with the shock when it's someone from their past!)

"Just James and yes it's me. How are you?"

"Confused. Where are we? Is this a dream?" Mary looked at me with a combination of deer in the headlights and recently lost a pet or loved one. Oh, boy.

"We are in what's called a purgatorium. Though I hate to be the one to tell you this, you're dead. You died from an overdose last night. So this is the afterlife, until we get on to the next step."

Mary stared at me with a rare contempt I had never seen from her. I remember her when she took my class. She always stared at me and the board attentively, sitting three rows back, dead center. Definitely one of the more charitable students. She stood out in a class of two hundred because she was one of they only ones who gave enough of a damn to stay awake. Even when I knew I was lecturing on something boring as all arse, I could count on Mary to pay attention. She looked like she wished me all of the world's worst situations, all rolled into one. Finally, she retorted, "I don't believe you. This is a ridiculous joke. It's not funny. I always knew you were sick when I took your class. Nonsense and babble, and we should search ourselves and write the truth. Professor Duncan, this is deranged. I demand at once that you let me go. I never realized you had an obsession with me, but I have a family and a son now and I need to get home at once. Is it money that you want? My husbands a lawyer, he will take care of anything you want, just let me-"

"Whoa, don't flatter yourself quite yet. Mary, I wish I could, but TRUST ME you don't want that. If I let you go, then you have to find your way out on your own, and you don't even fully understand where you are yet, or why I'm here. Can you try to remain calm? Just try. Give me five minutes to explain. Five minutes won't hurt you, will it?"

"Fine. Do whatever you have to. But I get ornery without my pills, so do be quick." Mary crossed her arms and looked away and up, trying to come off as a snot.

"Okay. Rule number one. This is DEATH. Drugs don't work here, because you're already dead. Necessities you had when your body was alive you will find you no longer need, like sleep, food, or medicine. So you won't find that you crave that antipsychotic-"

"I was on antidepressants, Professor." Mary corrected me and she almost looked embarrassed.

"Right, antipsychotics. You won't need them anymore. Rule number two. You have to accept the idea that you are dead in order for us to move on and get you to your final resting place. I don't know where that is, so don't waste your time fretting about heaven and hell; neither place exists anyway. Your final resting place is not a place where you're going to get tortured repeatedly unless it turns out you were into that, either way, I don't know where that is, so it will be much easier if you don't let it consume you. Rule number three is at any time you can dismiss me as your guide, but I don't recommend that, because you will be on your own, and there are certain places that we have to go that you don't know how to get. Understood?"

"No," Mary is still trying to give me full blown AIDS or smite me down some other way by staring.

"Great. Any questions?" (This is never a fun part either.)

"Just one. If I'm dead, why am I still aware of anything at all? Can you prove to me that I'm dead?" Mary looked at me smugly. As innocent as she attempted making her question sound, her eyes said, Take that, bastard. They always want to shoot the messenger. As long as I have been doing this, which is for eternity, minus sixty four years (I love that one, because when I tell people they try to do the math but you can't! Its eternity!), I have never had a single soul take me at my word that they are dead. I always have to dive into some long drawn out presentation of them watching their body get autopsied or taken to the morgue or some other sad ordeal. It's time consuming and it's a royal pain in my ass, quite frankly. However, when they ask I can't really say no, plus it's often the only way to get them to believe me, so here we go.

"Alright, can do. Hang tight." I lead Mary over to a corner of the purgatorium. Purgatoriums are simple rooms, made completely of nothing. When you have my job, you can mold them to be anything you like. Most of the deceased I receive are my former students and for the ones that gave me the most shit, I mold theirs into a jail cell, or the inside of a sphincter for a little pay back. But Mary was a good student, and I can't really blame her for being annoyed that she's dead. It isn't something anyone expects. So for her, I molded the purgatorium into a park bench and put a movie screen in front of it.

"Have a seat." Again, this is never easy. Sometimes souls come to you after a few days have passed (for whatever reason) and they see themselves in their coffins. That stuff happens when we get backed up. However with Mary, it's likely I will only have to show her an autopsy or her body in an ambulance, something where worms aren't yet feasting on her decomposing carcass.

She sat down and I sat next to her. I clicked play on a remote I made, (just for effect!) and it was just as I suspected.

"What the hell is he doing to me?" Mary looked terrified.

"Don't have a cow just yet. He's a doctor; he's just performing an autopsy."

Mary looked at the screen I created, and saw her body, laid out on a table. There is a doctor examining her remains, and another hospital person attaching a toe tag to her large left toe.

"Is that a toe tag?" Is what I think I heard, but Mary is in a state of shock, so she sort of croaked (ha!) instead of speaking.

"Sure is! Nothing to be afraid of, your just dead. Oh! Lucky me, there they are going to sign your death certificate. Believe me now?" I lucked out with that death certificate. It can take forever to get people to admit that they're dead. It isn't that I'm worried because we don't have the time for that. Unfortunately, up here, we have that kind of time; that's the problem.

"Yes, but, why? Why are you here? Shouldn't I be getting judged? Where's god?" Mary's look has softened a lot by now. She's still pissed, don't get me wrong, but not at me, so I'm in luck.

"I can answer all of those. I'm here because I'm dead too. When I died I took a job with the head of the purgatorium, and what I do is guide souls. He offered me the job because I was a professor I.L. (in life) and it took me an extremely long time to admit I was dead A.L. (after life). Guess he figured he might as well put me to work if I was going to be here anyway. Any-who, you aren't getting judged because there is no heaven, and there is no hell. There is God, but he deals more with those in the IL stage. He's off doing things like offering spiritual guidance and comfort, answering prayers, providing strength. You know, God like things. So, you probably won't meet God under these circumstances, only ASSes like me, and what I'm going to do is help you make sense of your death so you don't have to hang out here forever. Any questions?"

"How did you die?" Mary has completely let her guard down, which is unusual for this early of a stage in the game. It wasn't necessarily a good thing either; it seemed that she got so depressed by her death she just figured she would give up. Oh well, have to work with the dead on their own terms.

"Oh. I shot myself. Didn't like living anymore. Got drunk in my study, burned a few books I had gotten published and then didn't feel better so I was done." Sad, but so true folks.

"Horrible!"

"What, that I shot myself? You think?"

Mary is now staring at me in disbelief. "You don't think so?"

"Up here, what I think is irrelevant. It doesn't matter so much when I died or how, but why. I went through the things you're about to go through, and now I don't particularly care if it's horrible or not. All I know is that I understand what happened. And now my job is up here."

"Well, how long have you been dead?"

"That's a little tougher to answer. Because I'm not dead. I'm undead. But undead is not alive, and while that's dandy, there is no such thing as time after you die. You've exited reality and entered eternity, so time eventually becomes a distant memory. I was alive for sixty four years." (I know what you're thinking. I told her that I was dead, too.)

"But you said you were dead, just like me." Mary is still trying to wiggle her way out of this. It's funny how some people love to bargain in the afterlife. It's like if I admit that I'm wrong in any way shape or form then it will bring her back to life. It's kind of like at a restaurant when they burn your food or it takes forever to come out; obviously you want a free meal. Same deal up here.

"Mary, with all due respect, when I said that you weren't really buying into the afterlife deal. I thought if I related, you would accept that you're dead a little sooner and possibly a little smoother. Plus, technically, I am dead; I mean I'm not living. What you are experiencing is an ASS."

"An ASS? What are you, out to get my pity?" Mary rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was ridiculous.

"Yes, I'm an ASS. An Active Stable Soul. You wouldn't want my body to talk to you now, it's been decomposing on earth back there for quite some time. Anyways, time's a wasting lady, and I need to give you a presentation. You'll understand a lot more when we get going-"

"James, what makes you believe that I'm going anywhere with you?" Damnit. I thought I had her, but at the very least she's calling me James.

"Okay. I guess you don't have to. You can hang here, but, if that's what you want, I have other appointments, so you're going to be on your own." This one seems to work; after they find out they're dead, they don't want to be alone. The dead feel betrayed by what's happened and generally the last thing they want is to be left by another entity.

"I suppose I will come with you, that's if I can't go anywhere else." FINALLY!! Mary just consented to come with me, so we are making some sort of progress.

"Mm! don't be mistaken. You can dismiss me at anytime, but the catch to that is I'm not allowed to tell you how to get anywhere, I can only show you. So you dismiss me, and I'm afraid you're on your own my dear. However if you do, you can go wherever you want. It was all in the rules." Looks like we might just be getting somewhere!

"James," Mary looked at me with disdain, "Would it be alright if I called you Professor Duncan? No offense, but I don't feel I know you well enough for James. And I'm already way out of my comfort zone as it is."

"Then Professor Duncan it is to you!" I smile at Mary trying to offer her some sort of comfort. I've been doing this for so long that I tend to forget how turbulent the beginning of an afterlife can be. However, I need to get going with Mary so all I can do besides that for right now is look at her and say, "Let's go!"