A Visit from Death: Part 5

Death took a paper towel from the dispenser by the sink, wiped the remains of the creature from his hand and passed the towel to Jack. It felt heavier than Jack expected. He said,

‘I’m sorry.’
‘I know,’ said Death.
Jack paused before saying,
‘Why are you here, old boy? You never told me.’
‘I’m here for you,’ said Death. ‘I’m afraid you can’t see your great-grandson.’
Jack looked up, the colour had drained from his face and he looked terrified.
‘Death, old boy, come on, we’re best friends, despite everything,’ implored Jack. ‘You can give me a few more hours. The Doctors told me I have two more days. They’re inducing the child as we speak.’ Jack had raised his clasped hands, as if in prayer, as if begging. ‘I said I was sorry,’ he explained, the last few strands of his grey hair wafting madly above his head, ‘and I meant it. I truly am.’
‘I know you are,’ said Death, with a stony face, as if he were a strict headmaster talking to a particularly unruly child. ‘I know you are, and so am I.’

Death walked back around the bed to the chair and sat down. All the while Jack watched him with an expression of fear on his face but a feeling inside of bitter impatience and almost anger, which he fought from betraying him. Death took Jack’s right hand, as he had when he arrived, in both of his own, and said,

‘Jack, I’m here today for you.’
‘Yes, like you keep saying, but why…’ said Jack, but he was quickly interrupted.
‘Please, listen,’ Death said with an uncharacteristic boom. ‘I’m here for you, but not on business. I’m trying to tell you, I’m here for you.’
‘But then, why…’ Jack gulped.
‘I wanted you to know first,’ said Death. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve come here, to this hospital, to pay a visit to your granddaughter…and your great-grandson, Jack Stiller. On business.’

Jack went transparent with shock. It was like an icy dagger had pierced his heart. But, in fact, his heart was quite healthy. Death explained that he had checked his books for the next six years and Mr. Jack Peacebolt, Esq. was not included. This did nothing to soothe Jack, who promptly replied,

‘Please leave.’
Death rose from his chair and pulled on his black raincoat.
‘Jack, my dear friend, remember that you need to be there for your family. They’ll need you. And I can be here for you, if you need me.’
Jack looked down at the paper towel in his hands and said,
‘Get out.’
‘Of course,’ whispered Death, who turned, raised his black hood over his head and left the room. The door began to close slowly and, as it did so, Jack heard a familiar voice asking,
‘Which way to the Maternity Ward, please?’
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