A short piece written about a man that is always early. I originally came up with it because I’m super early to everything. Better to be early than on time and late. The title is only a working title and this is very much a scratch pad style writing.
Chico is a man with purpose. Always be early. He’s made it his life’s goal to always be early. Early to bed, early to rise hasn’t made him rich, wise or anything.
Thirty-five percent of his life has been spent simply waiting. A waiting room here, an unforgiving queue line there. He reminds himself that patience is a virtue and when he gets to the pearly gates, he’s going to have it in spades.
Early in childhood Chico became interested in statistics, a fascination with numbers. His surprise when he arrived at his final destination, not early, but unexpectedly right on time, upset his mental equilibrium.
A white sphere grew with a blue haze surrounding it in front of him. As brilliantly white as it happen to be, no blindness came to him; a sense of wonder and longing flowed over him, a deep calm settled into his gut. The sphere continued to grow and become brighter.
“Um…” Slipped his lips. A shallow farrow dug its way across his forehead.
“You’re not sleeping. Charles.”
Charles. No one has called him by that name since birth. Chico or Charlie, but never Charles.
“What–”
“Let it sink in a little. I’ve waited this long, I can wait longer.”
He flipped his wrist over and looked at the time. The digital face read, 00:00. Strange, he thought. He tapped the scratchy face of his watch. A new battery as soon as I can. He made a mental sticky note among the many others.
“Firstly, what time is it?” He said to no one in particular.
“You’re on time. I know you have a lot of questions starting to rise up.” The voice said. Chico twisted this way and that trying his best to locate the source, but couldn’t. He spun himself in a circle but no one was around him. For all intents and purposes, he stood alone.
“What am I on time for?”
“Your review. It has been scheduled far in advance of your arrival, and so far– Aside from being almost too early, your doing— Swimmingly.”
“Grand.” Chico said as he sat down and crossed his legs.
Looking around he saw no distinguishing features. Like a photographer’s light box, no shadows were cast and so he had no indication of time, especially with a broken wrist watch. He felt completely out of place. Stranded at the edge of the horizon.
His hands locked their fingers together and began rubbing back and forth. He could feel the heat friction from it and made a mental note to stop.
“So where am I, exactly?”
“Your review Charles. I’ve told you this.”
“And what exactly are we review–”
“Your life.”
“My life.”
“Your life.”
Things started to come into focus, the outline of the puzzle edges were lining up. Clicking into place. He stood up and shoved his hands into his back pockets. No wallet. No wallet! He thought.
“Is this some elaborate joke? Roddy? Where are you?” Chico said. A heat trickled into this voice.
“Roddy isn’t here. This isn’t some elaborate joke. Now sit down and let’s start. For someone who is insistent on being early, you sure are holding up this process.” The voice said.
“Jeez, fine.” Chico said, zipping his lips with a finger.
“You lived for forty-six years. You had a good life Charles.”
“That’s good to hear.” He said.
“You brought a lot of happiness to people, and they remember you fondly.”
“Brought…”
“Have you not connected the dots?”
“Dots… No. No connecting them at this point. Everything is a little fuzzy at this point still.”
“Oh, me— You’re dead Charles. Expired. Almost too early, but I got you hear right on time. Thankfully I’m great at scheduling things.”
“I’m dead.”
“Yes.”
“Dead.”
“Deceased. No more. Bones in the ground.”
“What do you mean, almost too early.”
“You’re just like everyone else. Always asking the important questions.”
Having sat down, Chico placed his palms on his knees. His eyes began to cross as he became lost in his head.
“Everyone wants to know how often they almost died. It’s human nature to puzzle yourselves over irrelevant information.”
“So are you going to tell me or not?” Chico said, becoming frustrated.
“Can I just say, it’s over nine-thousand.”
“Over?”
“Twenty-three-thousand-eight-hundred and sixty.”
“You’re right, ‘over nine-thousand’ does sound much better.”
The white sphere had grown substantially throughout their conversation. A tall, lanky man in a cauliflower blue suit stepped out from the light and walked towards Chico. He stood up.
“So… You’re…”
“The one doing your review.” He said.
“Okay, so what do I call you, God?”
“Lower-case ‘g’. I am; I am.”
“Nice to meet you, I am.”
The man smirked.
“Just call me Barry.”
So God’s name isn’t Yahweh, it’s Barry, Chico thought.
“I go by a lot of names– People suck at spelling– And being good to one another. I felt I laid it all out in an easy to read format, but what are you to do.” Barry said.
“Of course you can read thoughts. So what about prayers? Do you actually listen to them?”
“No. I’m more of an hands-off deity.”
“So when people pray to you to help them in a flood or a disaster, you ignore it.”
“Look, I get it. I do. But just because I created you doesn’t mean I have to take care of you every waking moment of the day. You people are adults. You can take care of yourselves.”
Chico felt a little overwhelmed.
“Okay I get it. You don’t stop the motion of the world just to answer one person’s plea.”
“Exactly. And praying is basically a denial of faith. I got things under control, and to pray that I change my plans is an insult to me. I got things covered. Just accept your damned fates and stop complaining.”
“Gotcha.”
“Let’s walk.”
“Where? There’s nothing around.”
“He of little faith.”
The man in the blue suit and Chico began walking. The ground gave no sound and Chico’s expensive designer shoes felt like they were walking on aerated cotton. In the distance, the white curtain that held the horizon at bay turned a deep calming blue, with cumulus clouds forming high in the sky.
As they walked Chico saw in the distance two plush chairs come into focus. Arriving at the chairs Barry sat down and motioned with his hand for Chico to do the same.
“For a review of my life, this is pretty informal. Also where are the pearly gates?”
“No pearly gates. No gates period. That scripture came about because people were always afraid of their neighbors and fencing themselves in gave them a sense of security.”
“That’s fair.”
“I thought so.”
Sitting down, Chico melted into the seat. The most comfortable chair he ever sat on rested in a doctor’s office in San Bernardino, California. In two weeks that chair would be relegated to a garbage dump far from the city.
“Let’ continue.” Barry said. “Now that you are no more, you need to reassigned a task as you’ve finished your assignment of existing in the mortal world.”
“And what’s that assignment?”
“You’re going to be a watcher.”
“Ah, man.”
“You haven’t even heard the job description. You know for my children, humans bitch so much it’s unnerving to a point.”
“Sorry.”
“Your job will be to keep a record of what the people I assign you do. Statistics. You’re going to keep a running tally of them and report that back to your supervisor.”
“Statistics aye, I can handle that.” He said, “So does that mean you know all kind of interesting things about me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay. How many times did I masturbate?”
“You masturbated thirty-two thousand times.”
“Is that a lot?”
“Above average.”
“Go me.”
“That’s not a good thing, except for your prostate. Of all the questions you could ask, your first question is about jerking off?”
“Just curious.”
“Stop it.”
“Sorry.”
“So we have to go through some HR stuff before your first assignment.”
“Like I have to fill out a W-2 and stuff?”
“Look, just because I’m god, doesn’t mean I don’t have to pay taxes. But what-ta to do?”
Chico sat in the chair for what seemed like eternity, and it may very well have been eternity, his watch didn’t work no matter how many times he looked at it and tapped it. Barry explained all the finer details of being a Watcher and how long he would have to work in the position and the potential for advancement. And suddenly, they both blipped out of existence with a puff of smoke.
Chico excelled at his job, and even though he showed up early for each individual, he made certain they were always on time.
T. Simpson Writes 