A Little More Living (Pt 3)

And so it happened that John Brown went home, the words of Serena still echoing in his mind.

“It’s never too late to get a little more living done.”

However, those words raised another important question for him. What exactly was living? Everyone had their own definition of living. He did not know what living meant for him. He just usually went from day to day, going through the motions. And now, he realized that was just not enough. When he was gone, who was going to remember him? He was an only child and his parents were dead. He had no relations. He was unmarried and he had no friends. Sure, he had buddies he went for drinks with once in a while and there were women he called when he wanted a night of quick rough meaningless sex.

Those people weren’t the kind of people you called and told you were dying. And when he died, what was going to happen to all his money? He knew he couldn’t take it with him to the grave but he found himself resentful of the fact that some dudes who hadn’t worked as hard as him were going to spend all the money he’d toiled for.

He realized that it was all meaningless now. He couldn’t use it and he couldn’t take it with him. He didn’t want it wasted either. The TV interrupted his thoughts. The news was on. The reporter was talking about street kids in a particular area and how the situation was getting out of hand.

Street kids? Hmm. An idea began to form in his head. He smiled to himself and went to sleep, feeling a little better about himself.

In the morning the following day, John Brown’s accountant received strict instructions from his boss. His lawyer was called and a will was written. His lawyer was quite surprised that he’d been called in. He had been hounding John to write a will for a long time and each time, he’d been told something else that was a variation of “Dude, I’m not dying yet. What’s the hurry?” However, the stern look on John’s face discouraged him from asking John why he had decided to write the will at that time.

By the end of the day, John was quite satisfied with what he had accomplished that day. He stretched in his swivel chair and turned to the window. He couldn’t believe less than twenty four hours ago, he’d been told he was not going to live more than a month. Somehow, after all he’d done today, he actually felt better. He didn’t know if it was the right thing to do but he knew if it hurt no one, it didn’t matter.

He had the urge to go back to that office building outside which the bench was. The bench where he’d met Serena. He wanted to see her. He wanted to just sit and be with her. No talking. Just be. He found her presence comforting. He did not have anyone other than himself.

He thought better of it though. He was dying. He was not going to be around much longer. What was the point in forging new friendships if those friendships were not going to last? He was going to be burdening her with the thought of saying goodbye to a friend. And besides, what was the guarantee that he was going to see her again? He knew she lived in the area but he couldn’t exactly go from door to door asking of her. That was bordering on stalker.

So instead, he went home. He poured himself a very stiff drink and went to bed.

When Joseph Brown got home, he slept a very deep sleep. He woke up the following day and was still unsure of what to do. What was living and how was he supposed to cram a lot of life into thirty days? He went to work and went through the usual routines.

After work, Joseph headed downtown to a bar that had just opened. He sat at the bar and he’d barely ordered a drink when a lady slid into the seat next to him. He’d usually be interested but at the moment, he barely noticed her. She flirted with him shamelessly and soon, he’d forgotten about his literal deadline and was getting comfortable with her.

Then it struck him. What was living, if not enjoying one’s self? What was it the young people were saying these days? YOLO! You only live once. He could spend all his money on booze, women and pleasure. After all, when he was dead, there was no one who was going to spend it for him.

He turned to the woman, smiled a toothy smile and allowed his hand to drop to her waist and his lips to descend to her ear.

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John Brown was feeling a bit more fulfilled. It had been exactly twenty nine days since he’d been told he had a month left to live. He was feeling at peace with himself and with the world. He knew when he died, his money was going to help street kids make something of themselves. He could not do a lot but he could do a little to make sure the world was better.

Since he’d purchased the building where he put some of the kids up and had them taught skills, he’d been going there every day after work. Interacting with the children and listening to them tell their stories was refreshing and made him feel younger. There was something about helping another human being that made him feel good.

He missed Serena each passing day but he’d promised himself he was not going to look for her. He wasn’t going to burden her with the task of saying goodbye and forgetting him.

He stepped out of the Serena; that was what he’d named the home he’d built for street kids and decided to go get a drink. He knew he was not literally going to die the following day. Thirty days was more of an average. However, it did not hurt to have one last night on the town. He could actually die tomorrow.

He walked into the first bar he saw and asked for a jack and coke. He was nursing his drink and wondering to himself what it felt like to die. He had made peace with the fact and realized he did not dread it as much as he did when he was first given the news. He actually smiled to himself and thought back to the day he’d met Serena. He was smiling to himself as he remembered her reaction when he’d told her he was dying. Someone slumped into the seat at his right and asked the bartender for a whisky.

He didn’t pay particular attention to the person until he turned and spoke directly to him. “What are you smiling about, huh? You think your life is perfect, don’t you? Well let me tell you something. One day, you’re going to wake up and realize all of this is an illusion. Nothing is worth it. You’re going to regret ever living and curse whichever deity thought it a good idea that you be born.”

John was quite taken aback by the man’s attack. He turned towards him and was prepared to give him verbal beat down. Who was this guy and how dare he think he knew him? However, one look at the man and his retort died in his throat. The man seated next to him could use a shave. He looked and smelled like crap, literally. John would usually be disgusted by such a person but his deadline had taught him that everyone had a story you didn’t know about. Everyone was fighting their own battles and being nice to people was the least you could do to lessen their burden.

So instead, he smiled and spoke calmly to the man. “Hi, I’m John. Would you please tell me why you have such a bleak outlook on life?”

The man turned to him. He had the look of a man who just didn’t care anymore. “My name is Joseph and I was told a month ago that I had a month left to live.”

John started. What were the odds? He wanted to tell Joseph that he’d been told the same thing but this was not about him.

“Oh I see. But that was a month ago. Surely, you’ve had time to live a little more.” John said.

“Oh believe me, live I have. I drunk and partied and fucked women and did everything. Yolo, you know.” Joseph smiled a sad little smile and downed his drink, signalling for another.

“I’ve lived and yet I’m not ready to die.” He stated matter-of-factly and downed his second drink.

John sighed. “Perhaps Joseph, you aren’t ready to die because you actually haven’t lived. Sure, all those things you said are living too but what is life if it is not led to help others? You haven’t lived until you do something for people which they cannot pay you back for.”

“I guess it’s too late now, huh?”

“Joseph, it’s never too late to get a little more living done.” Joseph realized that those were the exact words Serena had said to him when he’d met her. He felt like he’d let her down.

“You know, you’re right. I’m glad I met you John.” Joseph suddenly sobered up and left the bar. He went back to his office. He called his lawyer. He rewrote his will so that when he died, all his money went to the Ghana Heart Foundation to help people who needed surgery but could not afford it. He actually felt better about himself. He smiled a little and put his head on his table to rest. He was so exhausted. He fell asleep at his desk.

John smiled to himself and went home. He was at peace. He was actually ready to die.

The following morning, John Brown was awakened by the incessant ringing of his cell phone. He ignored it but the person was unrelenting. He groaned and picked up the phone.

“Hello, is this Mr. John Brown?”

“This is he. Who’s this?”

“I’m the oncologist from the hospital. I apologize deeply but it seems there was some mistake. An intern mixed up your folder with that of another patient who has the same initials as you. I saw the error this morning. Sir, I’m glad to tell you that you do not have cancer at all. The pains you were experiencing were probably as a result of stress. You should_______-“

He did not hear the rest because he sat up and threw the phone against the wall. He didn’t know what to feel. He expected to feel angry but he didn’t. There was no happiness either. All he felt was relief, he turned over and went back to sleep. His last thought was that he needed to find Serena.

Joseph Brown’s secretary went to work the following day and found her boss asleep at his desk. He had on the same clothes as the day before. She tapped him but he did not respond. She shook him a bit more vigorously but there was no answer. She checked for a pulse and realized there was none. Joseph Brown was dead.

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In the intensive care unit of the hospital, a woman lay hooked to several machines. Her head was bare and she looked frail, like she would break if you nudged her. There was however a light in her eyes that proved that despite the pain she was in, she was happy. Her brother sat by her side, weeping silently.

“Stop crying Alex. I’m happy. I’ve lived. That’s more than I can say for many people walking about today. A violent cough wracked her thin frame and Alex managed to get her to drink some water. She turned to him and smiled genuinely.

“I’ve made a lot of people smile and I feel it’s good enough. Just promise me this Alex, that when I’m gone, you shan’t cry for me. Promise me you’ll live, make a difference. Make your life one that is worth remembering.

Alex nodded and squeezed her hand gently. “Of course Serena.” He answered.

“I love you Alex.” She said and smiled.

“I love you too.” She smiled again and settled more comfortably against the pillows. The intermittent beep of one of the many machines changed to a dull steady beep. Serena was no more. Alex kissed her forehead and pulled up the sheet to cover her face. Cancer had claimed yet another person.

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Every day after work, John Brown goes to the neighbourhood where he first met Serena. He never meets her but he hopes one day, she’ll settle on the bench next to him and smile her beautiful smile. The smile that wipes the cobwebs from his soul. He smiles as he watches the kids play. He can almost hear her whisper to him;

“It’s never too late to get a little more living done.”