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I'm not ready to die!

by

Bill MacWithey

I was sitting at the computer, four fingering the keyboard, when my wife called out, "Dinner's ready!"

Boy, how I hate having a best seller interrupted right at a critical point. My hero was about to cash in his chips. Yeah, I write the kind of stuff that's unexpected. Hell, anyone can write a story where the hero gets in trouble, the hero gets out of trouble, he gets the broad he has the hots for, and everyone lives happily ever after. What a crock. Life ain't really like that.

Anyway, like I said, my hero was just about to get smashed to death in the junkyard compactor, when my wife yells, "Dinner's ready."

"Okay, already. I gotta shut my computer off." I cheated another two minutes and four-fingered my hero to death. Then I turned the electronic marvel off. That's another thing - I was the guy who said, "Computer, yer butt. There's not a damned thing wrong with my typewriter!" Then, the idiot showed me how easy it was to erase mistakes and the damn thing does, after all, do half the work for you.

Anyway, when the screen went black, I got out of the beautiful brown leather chair I bought myself to write my best seller. Hey, you gotta be comfortable to do that kind of writing. As I walked through the living room, on my way to the dining room, I knew something wasn't right. The big paint-on-velvet picture of Elvis I bought for Mary across the border in Nueva Laredo is square. I know damn well it's square. But it had turned to a quivering, odd shaped mass that I didn't recognize. Then, I felt the thump, as my head hit the floor.

Next thing I know, I'm standing there watching my wife kneel down beside me, yelling, "Mac! What's wrong?"

Now, here's the strange part. I said, "It's quite obvious what's wrong, fer cryin' out loud. I'm dead." Whoa! Wait a damned minute! What did I say? How the hell is it I can stand here and be layin' dead on the floor at the same time. My God! I can't be dead! I have two, three hundred pages to write yet! No way can you have a best seller without an end - it can't end in the middle. I was even thinkin' about a way to resurrect my hero. You know, like maybe there was some titanium steel in the compactor that didn't let it crush everything, and my hero just happened to be in the right spot at the right time. 'Course it would take some damned creative writing, but isn't that what a best seller is?

Next thing I know, Mary's runnin' 'round the sofa to the telephone and dialing 911. I wonder if it's too late? Suddenly I felt myself fading away. The scene in the room became foggy, and in the twinkling of an eye, I was standin' in a tunnel of light, lookin' to the end, where a bright light beckoned to me. Shadowy figures motioned me to join them. Man! I'd heard about this stuff, but didn't really believe it.

Well, I did remember someone once talking about it on, what’s that guy's name? Phil Donawho? Yeah, somethin' like that. I remember the guy saying he fought off joining the guys at the end of the light tunnel and returned to his body. That's what I needed to do, if I was gonna finish my best seller.

I laughed and said, "Sorry guys, it ain't time fer this one yet. I got a lot of writin' to do before I go. Yeah, I'm a writer. Ain't had much of anything published yet, but it always takes some time to get well known. I've written ten, twelve novels, but this is the one that's gonna sell. I have had a number of letters to the editor published in the local papers. Yeah, that counts. I heard a lady giving a workshop say so one time."

I realized I was talking to someone or something that didn't answer - just kept standing there waving for me to join them. Naw, I gotta get back and see what Mary's doin'. I wonder if they got me to the hospital yet. Man, I just can't be dead! I wasn't ready to go. I have to pay for that chair. And hell, I still have six payments on the high priced computer the guy sold me.

I turned and ran away from them as fast as I've ever ran in my life. I ran so fast, I ran right out the end of the tunnel. Now I was falling at warp speed. Then everything went black, and I knew for sure I'd made a real mistake. I somehow knew I was on my way to hell. I'd never get to finish my best seller. And I knew this was the one. It's the best story I've ever written, and my writing's improved a lot. A lady friend that read the first chapter told me so. And I've been to four all day seminars and two writing workshops. Cost twenty buck apiece!

Boy, you can imagine my relief, when instead of ending up in hell, I found myself sitting on the windowsill of my hospital room. Yeah, there I lay with a bunch of patches and wires on my chest, half a dozen needles in my arms and a tube shoved down my throat. I’m tellin’ you, the place looked like the command center of a spaceship. Hey, now there’s a title for you, "Space Medic."

Boy, I was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open. I lay down on the bed next to myself and closed my eyes. The next thing I know, I open my eyes and Mary's standing over me, holding my hand. I tried to speak, but the tube made speech impossible. I tried to indicate to Mary that I wanted something to write on, but she didn't seem to understand.

"Mac, you're going to be okay. Oh, I was so scared, but the doctor says you'll be okay."

I felt her warm tears drip on my cheek. Oh, man, I wish she wouldn't carry on like that. Yeah, sure, I know she loves me, she worries about me, and she's supported my writing career for a long time, but the mushy stuff, I'd just as soon reserve for my hero.

I waved my hands about and finally got her to understand I wanted a paper and pencil. Guess I shoulda taken that free course on sign language they offered at city college last summer. There was something I wanted to say to Mary, just in case those guys at the end of the tunnel began beckoning me again. Finally, she found a note pad and pen. It was hard to write, what with all the tubes sticking in my arms, and no glasses. What the hell happened to my glasses! Bet I broke them when I fell. Then, there was Mary, hangin' over me, drippin' on my face. I had something I had to tell her. Damn, I wish I had my glasses.

I finally managed to scratch out the message and hand it to her. She read out loud, "Don't mess with my computer. There's stuff in there you could mess up. Just unplug it in case there's a thunderstorm!"

Mary threw the note pad at me and stomped out of the room. That's another thing I'll never understand - women. They just don’t understand what’s important to us guys.

Sooner or later, a candle burning at both ends will reach the holder’s fingers.

There are two types of people; those who dare not dream and those who ask, "Why Not?"

When searching for something, be sure exactly what it is you hope to find before beginning your search.

A house can be built without a plan, but it sure is hard. Life, too, can be lived without a plan, but again, it sure can be hard.

I’ve never understood mountain climbing and the adage, "I climbed it, because it was there." The only reason I can see for climbing the mountain is to view things from the top. But, climb too high and things below become impossible to see clearly, because your view is clouded by your elevation.