Slammed(15)
The emcee shields his eyes with his hand, squinting into the audience to see who spoke up. "Ladies and Gentlemen it's one of our very own, Mr. Will Cooper! So nice of you to finally join us," he teases into the microphone.
Will makes his way through the crowd and walks onto the stage and into the spotlight.
"What's the name of your piece tonight Will?" the emcee asks.
"Death," Will replies, looking past the crowd and directly at me. The smile fades from his eyes as he begins his performance.
Death. The only thing inevitable in life.
People don’t like to talk about death because
it makes them sad.
They don’t want to imagine how life will go on without them,
all the people they love will briefly grieve
but continue to breathe.
They don’t want to imagine how life will go on without them,
Their children will still grow
Get married
Get old…
They don’t want to imagine how life will continue to go on without them,
Their material things will be sold
Their medical files stamped ‘closed’
Their name becoming a memory to everyone they know.
They don’t want to imagine how life will go on without them, so instead of accepting it head on, they avoid the subject altogether,
hoping and praying it will somehow
pass them by.
Forget about them,
moving on to the next one in line.
No, they didn’t want to imagine how life would continue to go on…
without them.
But death
didn’t
forget.
Instead they were met head-on by death,
disguised as an eighteen-wheeler
behind a cloud of fog.
No.
Death didn’t forget about them.
If they only would have been prepared, accepted the inevitable, laid out their plans, understood that it wasn’t just their lives at hand.
I may have legally been considered an adult at the age of nineteen, but I still felt very much
all
of just nineteen.
Unprepared
and overwhelmed
to suddenly have the entire life of a seven-year-old
In my realm.
Death. The only thing inevitable in life.
Will steps out of the spotlight and off of the stage before he even sees his scores. I find myself hoping he gets lost on his way back to our booth so that I have time to absorb this. I have no idea how to react. I had no idea that this was his life. That Caulder was his whole life. I’m amazed by his performance but devastated by his words. I wipe tears away with the back of my hand. I don’t know if I’m crying for the loss of Will’s parents, the responsibilities of that loss or the simple fact that he spoke the truth. He spoke about a side of death and loss that never seems to be considered until it’s too late. A side that I'm unfortunately all too familiar with. The Will I watched walk up to the stage is not the same Will I’m watching walk toward me. I'm conflicted, I'm confused, and most of all I'm taken aback. He was beautiful.
He notices as I'm wiping tears from my eyes. “I warned you,” he smiles as he slides back into the booth.
He reaches for his drink and takes a sip, stirring the ice cubes with his straw. I have no idea what to say to him. He completely put it all out there, right in front of me.
My emotions take control over my actions. I reach forward and take his hand in mine and he sets his drink back down on the table. He looks at me and smiles as he reaches to my face and traces the side of my cheek. I don’t understand the connection I feel with him. It all seems so fast. I turn his hand over and gently kiss the inside of his palm as we hold each other’s stare. We suddenly become the only two people in the entire room; all the external noise fades into the distance.
He takes my face in his hands and I close my eyes. I feel his breath draw closer as he pulls my face toward his. When he touches his lips to mine, he hesitates. He slowly kisses my bottom lip, then my top lip. His lips are warm, still wet from his drink. I try to kiss him back, but he pulls away when my mouth responds. I open my eyes and he is smiling at me, still holding my face in his hands.
"Patience," he whispers. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. He moves his mouth to my other cheek and kisses me again. I close my eyes and inhale as I try to calm the overwhelming impulse I have to wrap my arms around him and kiss him back. I don't know how he has so much self-control. He presses his forehead against mine and slides his hands down to my arms. Our eyes lock as we open them. It's during this moment that I finally understand why my mother accepted her fate at the age of eighteen.