I drew some stuff

I am starting a grand new adventure here, on another blog. Why you ask, because it's fun.

French Onion Soup

I made it, from scratch, today. I was told by people who ate it that it was the bomb digidy.

Guy part 2

Mr. Howard left the clock tower and walked four blocks into the heart of the city. He entered a pub called The Wee Jock. He found a spot open at the bar and waited there until the bartender spotted him. Mr. Howard ordered a beer and asked for a menu.

“Sure thing mister.” The bartender said the same thing almost every night. Every day after work Mr. Howard came to the Wee Jock and ordered a beer and asked for a menu, every night he drinks his beer and then orders the special, which he eats in the back booth. Some nights when it’s slow he talks to the bar tender. He knew all the bartenders who worked at the Wee Jock, but none of them knew him. Every day when he left the pub all memories of his presents left with him. It was a slow night so when the bar tender, whose name was Steve, came back Mr. Howard decided to strike up a conversation.

“Slow tonight.” He commented.

“Na, not really, it’s still early. You have to wait until all the husbands get home to argue with their wives before this place gets too full.”

“No crowds of young kids looking for a good time?” Mr. Howard knew the answer; he had had this conversation before.

“In a quite Pub like this? The kids go for the loud trendy places, this is a mans bar, this is a place for thinking and drinking.” Steve gave the whole pub a look over has he spoke.

“You sound like you really like it here.”

“I do, this place has character. It’s the type of place my dad drank in, the kind of place I always saw myself drinking in.”

“The kind of place you want to own.”

“Exactly. In a few years I might buy a place like this for myself.”

“Why wait?” Mr. Howard took a sip of his beer. “I’m sure you have a business plan all written up. Probably a note book full of layout plans and menus, I bet you even have the name.”

“You know I do. I want to call it the Black Dock.”

“That is an interesting name, where did you get it?”

“Grew up on a lake and we had a two docks, a new one that was all nice and sanded, and on old one that was falling apart. The old one had turned black with age and algae.” Steve stood there wiping down the bar remembering his old dock. “But hey, why am I telling you this?”

“Because I asked the right questions. I used to review peoples business plans at a bank. Make sure they were sound and not just some guys with a go nowhere idea about opening a bar or a paint ball place.”

“You’re joking me?” Steve looked Mr. Howard in the eyes for a good long minute. “You can tell me if a bank will accept my proposal or not?”

“No, I can tell you what to do to make your proposal sound legitimate. I haven’t worked in a bank for years and I have no idea what their standards are in this economy.”

“What sort of things?”

“You know just the small things.” Mr. Howard took a drink from his beer and when he put it down there was magically another one waiting for him.

“What sort of things?” Steve was smiling at him.

“Mostly price out every thing that you will need to buy, have a location in mind and have a 3 year business plan. Have the whole thing looked over by an accountant before you go to a bank, and maybe another pub owner.”

Steve pulled a binder out from under the bar and placed it on the bar in front of Mr. Howard. If Mr. Howard could look startled he would have. He had had this conversation with Steve at lest a dozen times and each time Steve had commented about how he never had enough time to put all that together.

“What’s this?” Mr. Howard asked.

“This is the Black Dock. I had the flu last week and I stayed home on the internet the whole time. Will you take a look?”

Mr. Howard had to think for a moment before he answered. “Sure just a look. I’ll do it over dinner.”

“How about the special, its beef stew.”

“Sure, I’ll take it in the back booth.” Mr. Howard picked up his new drink and the binder and went to the booth to wait for dinner. Mr. Howard was surprised at how well Steve had written everything out and he was getting ready to tell him so when he saw two men come through the door. He was surprised because instead of opening the door they had literally passed through it, and surprised again because he new one of them.

Gary Jones was walking down Smith Street when he was grabbed by the shirt and tossed into an ally. There where two men standing over him waving guns and asking for his wallet. He gave it to them; he knew he was no hero. They were getting ready to leave when someone called out from the sidewalk. Gary didn’t like what he heard, it was something like, “hey you, get away from that man,” but he couldn’t be sure over the gun shot. He was lying on the ground dying and his first thought was that he was angry at the man who called out from the side walk. His next thought was about his fiancée who he was on his way to meet. Then he heard the sirens, “I wonder if they will get here on time?” he mussed out loud.

“I think it’s fair to say that they will not.” Said a voice from behind him. He rolled his head back on the concrete and saw a man standing behind him. The man was wearing what seemed to be a large black coat and was holding a clip board in his left hand. The man came around Gary and reached down with his right hand, “come on, get up.” Gary took the man’s hand and let him pull him to his feet. Then the man in the coat looked down at his clip board and asked Gary his name. Gary Answered that his name was Gary Jones and offered to show some ID but the man said it would not be necessary.

“Gary I’m goanna have to show you something and it may be unpleasant. Do you think that you can deal with that right now?”

Gary assured him that he thought that he could, he had just been mugged and he seemed to have taken that fairly well. The man put his arm around Gary’s shoulders and slowly turned him around. There Gary found his body; it was on the ground bleeding quite a bit from a wound in the chest. Gary then proceeded to try and throw up, nothing came. He then crouched next to a dumpster and did a lot of heavy breathing. After a minute or two the man in the coat was next to him coaching him on his breathing and slowly pulling him back to a standing position.

“Gary I need to ask you if you know what this means.”

“Yes,” Gary replied in a slightly angry tone, “it means I have been shot and I’m having an out of body experience. As soon as the EMTs get here you’re goanna put me back in my body.”

“Gary!” the man in the coat rebuked him with his name. “That’s denial talking. You’re better then denial, you didn’t use denial when you got mugged.”

“How do you know?” Gary was angrier this time.

“I was here, I saw the whole thing. You accepted your situation and used the appropriate actions. It was very brave.”

“Brave, brave, I gave those thugs my wallet and didn’t think twice about it! Sounds like a coward to me.”

“Gary’” he rebuked him again, “I‘ve seen cowards get mugged and I have seen cowards die. Cowards shake and squirm and run, they never stand there and give their wallets to men holding guns on them. They have to be poked and prodded and they do stupid things that get them selves killed.”

Gary threw up his arms trying to point out the obvious.

“Gary you did not get yourself killed. That guy on the side walk who called out scared the muggers, they panicked and one of them shot you. Nothing you did was responsible. You were brave, and now I need you to be brave about this.”

“About being dead?” Gary asked accusingly. The man in the coat nodded. “You want me to accept that I am dead?”

“Oh Gary you already have, you just don’t know it yet.” Gary tossed his hands out in a questioning manner. The man in the coat tossed his out mimicking the obvious gesture Gary had made earlier. “When you went like this you accepted that you were dead.”

Gary thought back to when he had done that. It was after the man said cowards get themselves killed. He had used that gesture to indicate himself. He felt kind of foolish. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Of course not but it’s a place to start. Somewhere in your soul you knew that you were dead and you used that when you associated yourself with cowards that get them selves killed. Now look, here comes the EMTs, let’s watch them do their work and see if you get sucked back into your body.” Then man in the coat pulled Gary back towards the wall and out of the way letting the EMTs through.

They watched the men work on Gary’s body for a time. Gay wasn’t surprised when he wasn’t magically sucked back into it, but was disappointed when they gave up and closed his eyes.

“Come on guys don’t give up now.” He called out. He even went to grab one of them to make them try harder but he only passed right through him. “What was that?”

“Come on Gary, you’ve seen the movies, you’re dead, you can’t touch the world like you used to.”

“So I just go through things like in the movies?”

“Yup, it’s one of the few things they got right.”

Gary stood there for a moment waving his arms through the EMTs, and then jumping through them. Eventually the man in the coat cleared his throat loudly.

“That’s not considered good manners Gary.” Gary jumped through one more time. “How do you feel now Gary?”

“About being dead?” Gary asked. The man in the coat nodded. “I guess I have to accept it since I spent the last few minutes jumping through people. I’m still not happy about it.”

“no one said you had to be happy about it, you just need to accept it. I think were ready to move on.”

“Move on to where?”

“I don’t know if we have to go anywhere, but let’s get out of here, it’s kind of bringing me down.” The man in the coat indicated the coraner now making his way down the alley. Gary agreed and they left the alleyway for the street. “Well Gary I guess it’s time that I introduce myself and tell you why I’m here.” The man in the coat stuck out his hand for Gary to take. “hi, my name is Gabe.”

“Hi Gabe,” Gary took his hand and held onto it. “Gabe, as in Gabriel? Are you an angel?”

“No,” Gabe took his hand back, “I’m just a dead guy named Gabe. I’m here to show you around for awhile.”

“Show me around? Are you some sort of afterlife tour guide?”

“We prefer the term Ambassador.”

“Your joking right, you are my after life Ambassador?”

“Yup.”

Gary thought about it for a bit, “Well Gabe what are you supposed to do?”

“Glad you asked Gary, it’s my job to help you get ready to leave this world. I am going to help you get around and see everyone you might like to see. Like maybe…” Gabe lifted the pages on his clip board so he could look at the last page, “karra.”

“karra!” Gary yelped. “I forgot all about her, she’s waiting for me right now.” Gary took off running down the street. After two blocks he saw Gabe waiting up ahead for him waving at him to stop. He did stop but he only intended to for a moment but before he could tell Gabe off Gabe started making a lot of sense.

“what are you going to do when you get there?” was all he had to say to stop Gary.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s why I am here. I’m going to tell you how to communicate with the living, but it will take a minute or two. We should be done about the time we get there.”

“How do you know where I was going?”

“It’s in your file.” Gabe held up his clipboard for Gary to see. “no come on.” They walked through the city, talking. Gabe told Gary all about how to convey his emotions to the living. He told him that over the next few days several people would be hearing about his death, and there are things that the dead can do to help the living prepare for that news. “It’s like how people know their loved ones have died even though they are on the other side of the world. Well Gary do you think you can do this?” Gary said that he could. “Good because we’re here. Let’s go in.” and Gary and Gabe walked through the door of the Wee Jock.

Gary’s eyes immediately found karra sitting at the bar. “There she is.” He exclaimed.

Gabe’s eyes found Mr. Howard‘s at the back boot staring at him at about the same time. “You ok to do this Gary?” but Gary was already gone. “Good, I’ll be in the back if you need any support.”

Gabe walked to the back booth and looked down at Mr. Howard. He was sure that if Mr. Howard could look surprised that he would. He was also sure that he looked surprised. “Mr. Howard.”

“Gabe, please have a seat.” Mr. Howard indicated the bench across from him and Gabe took it. “I can only assume you are here on business.”

“I only come back on business.”

“Then how come I see you and your friends stalking around in groups sometimes?”

“That’s business, it’s a little different then my day job. You can call it volunteer work.”

“I’d offer to buy you a drink, but.”

“It’s fine. How are you holding up?”

“You know me, I’m fine.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of Mr. Howard. You’re always fine. You were fine when you died. The only person I ever helped who didn’t need anything.”

“I was ready to go.”

“Then how come you haven’t gone anywhere yet?”

“They offered me a job, I like work so I took it.”

Gabe was felling a little put out. This was exactly the way it was when he was Mr. Howards Ambasador. “You scare me Mr. Howard. Most people at least want to go to the afterlife before they come back and take one of these jobs.”

“They never offered. Besides I have everything I need right here.”

Gabe leaned out of the booth and peeked behind him to see how Gary was doing. Gary looked to be doing just fine so he turned his attention back to Mr. Howard.

“is he going to be one of mine?” Mr. Howard asked.

“I don’t think so.” Gabe turned to the last page of his clip board. “no he is not going to go to you.”

Mr. Howard gave a light chuckle, nothing big but it was enough to unnerve Gabe. “You do that too.” Gabe gave him a confused look. “You look on the back page when you don’t know the answer.”

“oh yea, you too.” Gabe let out a small laugh too. “none of my clients have ever caught on.” They sat in silence for a moment both taking in the other. “so Mr. Howard how is your half life?”

“it’s not a half life, it’s only barely a life. And it’s fine. How is your volunteer work?”

“it’s fine. Maybe someday you can volunteer too. The only hitch is you can’t be alive.”

Mr. Howard took a bite of his stew. “and give up all this? Well Gabe it was nice talking to you but I really must be going.” Mr. Howard pushed stew across the table, “help yourself.” He then picked up the binder and hi briefcase. Gabe let out a laugh.

“you still carry that thing around with you?” Mr. Howard forced a dirty look, before leaving Gabe alone at the booth. He stopped only once on his way out to place the binder on the bar.

Gabe went over to check on Gary, only to still find him fawning over karra. “how’s it going champ?”

“Good, who was that man you were talking to?”

“Just a friend.”

“He didn’t seem to like you very much.”

“You seem to have seen a lot considering you are supposed to be concentrating on your fiancée.” Gary had no response for that. “Forget him; you’ll soon forget you ever saw him anyways.” Gabe put Gary back on his task and went over to the binder Mr. Howard had left on the bar. There was a note on top of it written on a napkin. It said, “This looks good Steve. Take it to the bank first thing in the morning.” It was not signed. Gabe watched the binder until the bartender found it. He snatched it up greedily, and put it under the bar. Then he read the note, shrugged and put it into his pocket. Gabe let out a little laugh.

Mr. Howard walked the 12 blocks back to his apartment. It was the same apartment he had before he died. He sat in his chair and allowed himself to drift off. Running into Gabe had agitated him and he wanted to relax. Instead of putting Gabe out of his mind he thought back to the time they first met.

Mr. Howard could not remember what day it had been, but it had been a week day. He had just left the office and was trying to hail a cab when someone had come up behind him and grabbed his briefcase. He chased the man for three blocks before he caught up to him. The man was swinging his arms and Mr. Howard was able to grab hold of his briefcase as the thief swung it behind him. He held onto the briefcase with all of his might and tried to pull it to a stop, but the thief proved to be much stronger than him and he dragged Mr. Howard along instead. He dragged him right out into a street. The next thing Mr. Howard knew was that he had fallen backwards onto the side walk and he had his briefcase. He heard a clapping coming from behind him and turned to see a man there applauding him. When the man saw him looking he stopped clapping and offered his hand to Mr. Howard.

“come on,” he said, “let’s get you up on your feet.” He pulled Mr. Howard up and dusted him off. “sir you have been through a pretty dramatic exsperiance, are you ok?”

“I’m fine, thank you for the hand.” Mr. Howard had tried to turn to leave but the man grabbed him and stopped him from doing so.

“Sir I really don’t think you should.”

Mr. Howard ignored the man and turned anyway. There was a crowd gathering on the street, they were huddled around something on the street. Mr. Howard decided to investigate incase it was his thief, he would have to talk to the police. When he got there and looked down he saw it was himself holding his briefcase, lying on the ground bleeding. He back down the street and saw the cab that hit him, it’s driver screaming in some language Mr. Howard did not know.

Mr. Howard turned and walked back to the man who had helped him up. “I’m dead aren’t I?”

“yes you are…” the man began to search his notes for a name.

“Mr. Howard will due.”

“yes, yes Mr. Howard you are dead. How do you feel about that?”

“don’t be silly, there really is nothing I can do about it is there.”

“yes, but are you ok?”

“I told you earlier, I’m fine.”

“ok Mr. Howard, well my name is Gabe and I am here to help you out.” Gabe offered his hand, Mr. Howard took it. “I was looking over your file, and I was trying to identify any relatives or anyone who you might want to see.”

“why would I want to see anyone?”

“well most people like to go be with their relatives after they die, help comfort them, be with them.”

“I don’t really have anyone like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.”

Guy Part 1

In a city by the ocean there is a clock tower on the east side of town. On the first floor of the clock tower there are two doors each leading into separate offices. The door on the left has the name of Newhart and Westlake, a small law firm who practice family law. People go in and out of that door all day, carrying papers and briefs. Upon many of those papers are listed all the earthy possessions of their clients, and the names of the recipients of those possessions upon the deaths of the clients. On some of the other papers are the rights to people’s life’s, instructions on what to do if said client is ever incapacitated, or no longer able to make their own decisions. Newhart and Westlake are trusted with the preparation and care of these documents until they take effect. In Newhart’s office is a large safe, and every night he and his partner Westlake put the most important documents inside of it.

The door on the right does not hold any name at all, just the numbers 250 stenciled in black paint. People do not rush in and out of that door threw out the day. Only one man comes in the morning and leaves in the evening. He only carries a black briefcase and inside the brief case he only carries his ledger and his lunch. No one else is ever seen going in or out of the office. Every day this man sees new clients, handles documents whose value is far above that of the ones in the safe next door, and he makes decisions for those who no longer have the power to make them for themselves.

The man himself was not very interesting; his appearance matched that of his office door, very plain and kind of shabby. He wore a black suit with a gray overcoat and a black hat. Both his hat and overcoat were a bit tattered and worn, and as if in contrast the suit was always pressed and clean. His briefcase also seems to a reflection of his appearance, one side being perfectly fine and the other tattered and dented. His expression rarely deviated much from complacency and when it did it usually drifted towards displeasure.

Most morning he would come into the clock tower and walk straight to his door, and this morning was no exception. Upon entering he places his coat on the third hook from the right on a set of hooks behind the door. Then he proceeds through the empty hallways to his office. He only stops to look into the room next to his it has been converted into a waiting room. Every morning it is full with all manor of people, all of them looking a little sheepish, most of them afraid to even speak to one another. The chairs in the waiting room all face the door, so every day when the man in the perfect black suit looks in he can see the faces of all of his clients.

In the space between the door and the waiting room there is a desk. On the desk is a vase of flowers, behind the flowers sits a woman. She quietly reads a book which she only puts away when the man in the black suit leaves the waiting room door way. She stands to greet him, “good morning sir.”

“Morning Miss Passway,” he responds in a sleepy voice. She hands his a stack of files from a tray in the left hand side of her desk marked “In”. He takes the files and counts them as he weighs their heft in his hands. These files are important, these files are special. He takes them into his office, a small room furnished only with a desk, two chairs, and waste basket. He places the files and his briefcase on the desk before sitting. From the briefcase he produces his ledger, and then places the briefcase on the floor next to his desk. He compares the names from the files with the names found a piece of paper from his ledger. Then the man in the black suit presses the button on the callbox of his desk. “Miss Passway, I think we will proceed today in the order found on today’s list.”

“Yes sir,” came her reply.

The man waited only a minute before his door opened and a shaky looking man entered. He was dressed in jeans and a oil stained work shirt, he was clutching a blue baseball cap between his hands wringing it nervously. The man in the black suit waved him in and gestured for him to sit in the empty chair in front of the desk. The man did so as the suited man took the appropriate file and opened it on the desk. He took a minute to scan the first few pages before closing it and speaking.

“Jacob Johnson,” he waited for recognition to come to the other man’s face so he could be sure he was really listening. “You know why you are here?”

Jacob nodded nervously, “It’s because I’m dead.”

“Yes that’s true, but that is really the how you are here. I need to make sure you know why you are here.” The man in the suit was searching Jacobs face with his tiered eyes watching as he tried to remember something he was told, trying to recall the why.

“Is it…” Jacob was beginning to remember, “so that you can determine the appropriate course of action?” the man in the suit nodded and Jacob smiled, glad that he could remember.

“It’s really so that WE can determine the appropriate course of action, you and I, together. Do you know what it means when I say the appropriate course of action?”

Jacob frowned a bit and nervousness returned heavily to his voice as he answered. “It means weather or not I go to heaven or hell.” Jacob was looking down at the file on the desk; he could see his name on it.

“No Jacob this isn’t a judgment, this is only a temporary assessment.” Jacobs face brightened a little. “We have to decide weather it is time for you to pass on to the next world or not. Now I don’t want to confuse you, you have already passed onto the next life, there is nothing I can do about that, you understand?” Jacob did. “Now you might have some unfinished business here in this world, something you need to do or something you would like to do. Can you think of anything like that?”

Jacob thought for a moment, “I’m pretty sure you don’t mean like going to a Yankees game or finish rebuilding my Hotrod right?”

“That’s right, not like that.” If the man in the suit showed his emotions on his face he would be a little proud of Jacob for catching on so quickly. But he doesn’t, and he didn’t.

“Well I guess it really depends,” Jacob started out, “can you tell me if Berry will be all right?”

“I can not tell you the future, no.”

“Well can you tell me what happened to Berry after I passed?”

“Sure,” the man in the suit opened Jacobs file and turned to the last page skimming its contents before closing it again. “Your dog was picked up by a friend ad taken to your sister’s house.”

“Gloria?” Jacob thought some more, others might have thought Jacob did not look like much of a thinking man, but not the man in the suit. He knew better then to make judgments; his job was only to assess things. He was actually pleased that Jacob thought about things before he spoke. “I hope she keeps him, he’s a good dog, and he’s trained too. He would be good for the kids.”

“Is there anything else you feel the need to do?”

“I’d like to check on momma. I watched her at the funeral and she seemed pretty bad. Is that a thing I can do, is it reason to stay?”

“It can be Jacob, for a time. But before we look into that I want you to think about unfinished business, really think to make sure that there is nothing holding you here.” Jacob was a thinker but this time he already knew his answer.

“Sir I don’t even know what unfinished business means. I mean I’m dead, to me that means all of my business is finished. Most of those other things never really mattered, I let go of them not long after I let go of living.” The man in the suit could see this was something that Jacob had already thought about. “The only thing that really worries me about leaving this world is my mother.” Jacob leaned forward in his chair, it was now his chair, he was comfortable in it, and in the room, and with the man in the suit. “So sir I have no more unfinished business, but I would really like to check on my mother if I could.”

“You can do that Jacob. I think two days might be enough, more then enough really. How does that sound to you Jacob, two days to check on your mother before you leave this world?”

“That sounds just fine sir; I won’t insult you by haggling or anything. I’m sure you know your business. So do I get a two day pass or something?”

“no Jacob you just get two days, Miss Passway will give you more details on your way out.” Jacob stood up and offered his hand to the man in the suit, but the man did not take it. He only looked at the hand, and then at Jacob. Nothing really registered on the mans face, it was not blank but there was just nothing there for Jacob, so Jacob left and once again the office held just the man.

The next person to enter the office was a broad shoulder woman wearing a floral dress and a shawl around her shoulders. She was trying to hide her nervousness by holding perfect posture and moving slow. She took the chair without being offered and tried to force her hand on the man. He didn’t take it, and he was not impressed with her control.

“Rose Banks?”

“Yes, that is my name.” she continued to hold out her hand and he continued to not take it. She eventually retracted it. She tried to look him in the eyes but there was nothing there for her and it made it uncomfortable so she turned away.

“Do you know why you are here?”

“It’s so that we can determine the appropriate course of action. Do you mind if I ask who We refers to?”

“It refers to you and I. we will determine if there is any is any reason for you to stay in this world. Do you know what I mean by this world?”

“Not the next world.” She answered confidently.

“Good you were listening. Now I need you to think of any unfinished business you may have in this world. Do you know what I mean by unfinished business?”

“I think that I do.”

“Good.” As it turned out she didn’t really understand.

“There are a few points I am interested in.” was how it started. Rose wanted to do everything from haunting her tea society so her choice for her replacement as president was picked, to possessing her pet dog and attacking her enemies. It seemed that every thing she had ever heard about dead people doing in a movie or a book she wanted to try. With each new point on her list the man in the black suit had to explain to her that that’s not what was meant by unfinished business. “Sir, are you all right you look tiered and a bit irritated.”

“I’m fine; I always look tiered and irritated.”

“Good, I was worried it was something I did to make you look that way. I had a few more points I would like to ask you about.”

“Rose, do you mind if I ask you a question or two that might speed this along?”

“Not at all sir, I would welcome it.”

“Have you ever practiced witchcraft or any other form of supernatural worship or practice?”

Rose seemed a bit taken aback at first but she answered confidently. “No sir I do not believe I ever did.”

“Did you ever sell your soul or try and bind it to and object, building, or person?”

“No,” she answered, “I did promise my soul to my husband Charles. Does that count?”

“It can, but I see in your file that your husband is also dead.”

“Yes, poor Charles passed a few years back.” She let out a little giggle. “I say poor Charles but I am dead now aren’t I.”

“Yes you are rose. And don’t you want to go and see your husband?”

“You know sir I do.”

“I’ve looked over your file; I see you had no children, no other family to speak of. Now can you think of anything or any one that would hold you to this world and keep you from seeing your husband?”

“No, no of curse not.” She laughed again. “Oh I must have sounded so silly a minute ago, worrying about such trivial things. No sir there is nothing left in this world for me, I would like to go see my husband now.”

“Very good rose, if you would step out and let my secretary know you are ready to go she will help you on your way.” Rose stood up and hurriedly walked to the door. She stopped with the door halfway open and turned back around to face the man in the suit. He was putting roses file away and pulling out the next one.

“Thank you sir, thank you very much.”

“Could you tell my secretary to send the next one in?”

Rose stood there for a moment but eventually turned and left, leaving the man in the suit alone in his office.

The next three clients of the man in the suit were all very timid and weepy women. They were not especially fond of being dead and they all had very good reasons for staying in this world for awhile. Husbands, children, and parents were their chief concerns, and the man granted each of them a week to spend with their families. There was some concern that a week wasn’t enough but the man assured them that it was not the last they would see of them. That they would have contact with them from the next world, but it was not quite the same. He told each of them that they would understand if they would just step out and speak to his secretary, she would have all that they needed to know for the next week.

After the man in the suit sent the last of the weepy women away he found his door darkened by a large well dressed man. The well dressed man was waiting in the door for the man in the black suit to look up and see him. Once the men were looking at each other the well dressed man made his approach.

“Hi how’s it going? Names Billy, Billy Bosky, people call me Big Billy.” He had now reached the desk and he had his hand out. The suited man just looked down at his desk and began to read the file on Big Billy. By the time he looked up from the file Billy was sitting in the chair.

“William Bosky?”

“Please as I said call me Billy.”

“Do you know why you are here Billy?”

“It’s ‘cuz I crocked right, I mean I’m dead. And now you gonna tell me weather I go to heaven or hell.”

“No I’m not going to tell you that.” The man in the suit explained to Billy about this world and the next and about unfinished business. Billy had some interesting notions about unfinished business. He kept asking about his car lot and business associates. The man in the suit kept explaining to Billy that it was not that kind of business. But Billy kept asking the same questions over and over but with different words. He was probing trying to find out what he could. The man in the suit tried to talk to Billy about his wife and his father who might be grieving for him.

“Naw they’ll be alright.” And he went right back to asking questions that had nothing to do with staying in this world. The man in the suit could tell that there was something on his mind that Billy wasn’t saying. The man in the suit checked the back page of the file to confirm his suspicion.

“Billy are you worried about that $50,000 you stole and hid in the classic car of your show room?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about mister!”

“It’s here in your file. $50,000 stolen from car sales and from your employees bonuses. “

“That’s a dirty lie mister and I resent it. You need to watch your mouth.”

“Billy there’s no need to get upset, I’m not judging you, I’m just telling you what it says here in your file.”

“Then your files a damn liar.” Billy yelled. He was up now pacing the area behind his chair, forcible rubbing his hands together.

“The file cannot lie Billy it’s just a file. I don’t care where the money came from; all I care about is if it has a hold on you.”

Billy let out a scream and leapt at the desk. He grabbed the man by his suit and yanked him up too. “There is no money! I didn’t steal anything!” he stood there staring wild eyed into the man. The man looked down at his suit being held by Billy, and then Billy looked down too. The suit was slipping from his hands and the man was sliding away. Billy looked closer and saw that the suit wasn’t slipping it was fading through his fingers. He let go and watched his fingers slide out from inside the suit. “What are you?”

The man was straightening his suit, “I am your assessor.”

Billy walked up and put his hand on the man, and then he pushed it through. It passed right through him and then out the back. Billy brought it back out and looked it over. “But I touched you a moment ago. You were solid.”

“Yes.”

“And now your not.”

“Yes.”

“Are you an angel?”

“no.” the man was sitting now and gesturing for Billy to sit too. Billy slowly took his seat never letting his eyes off of the man. “What’s going on here?”

“It’s like I told you Billy, we are here to decide weather or not you are ready to go to the next world. It seems the only thing that might be holding you back is that money. Your only option with something like this to haunt the money, do you want to haunt the money?”

“I don’t think so.” Billy let out.

“That’s good to hear, it always sounded really boring to me. Is there anything else you can think of, your wife perhaps?”

“No, no she doesn’t really care about me.”

“Your father then?”

“He, he… no not him either.” Billy seemed almost to be in a trance, never letting his eyes leave the man in the suit.

“Then I think we are done here Billy. I think you need to pass on to the next world, sound good?”

“Yea.”

“Then please go on out to see my secretary, she will direct you from there.” Billy got up and went to the door; he turned back around before opening it.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“I really don’t know, could you please tell Miss Passway I’m going to take my lunch now.”

Nothing too dramatic happened for the rest of the day. The man in the suit saw a few more weepy women, a handful of slightly confused men and one momma’s boy. He ended with an old man who claimed to have died in his sleep. The man was very polite and made it clear that he wanted nothing more then to hurry along and see his family in the next world. The man in the suit informed him that all he had to do was to step out and see his secretary and he would be on his way. The old man thanked him and quietly left the room. When he was alone the man in the suit gathered up the files and his briefcase, and went out to see his secretary. She was right where he had left her at the beginning of the day, behind the desk reading a book. The man put the file in a tray on the right hand side of her desk labeled “out”.

“Take care of these would you miss Passway.”

She smiled, “oh course sir.” She handed him a piece of paper from her desk. “These are the names for tomorrow sir, and remember that tomorrow is a reassessment day, we will be meeting out in the field.” He took the paper and placed it inside of his briefcase. “Any plans for tonight sir?”

“Just the usual, good night Janet.”

“Good night Mr. Howard.”