Joseph

  “You are not a doctor, are you?”

  “Have we not passed that threshold already, Mr. Eizan? You know what I am,” the stranger said. He had bleached hair, a slim, tanned body, and ears crammed with piercings. Joseph couldn’t see under his clothes, but he knew the man had a necklace of the Virgin Mary and tattoos of waves on his arms and legs. He only lacked the board and wetsuit to complete the Californian surfer outlook Joseph once had been so familiar with.

  “I just … I just want to make this clear,” Joseph said. He turned to look at Alice, his granddaughter, over the bed, at what the cancer had left of her: a pale little child struggling to live another week.

  The stranger glanced at the child, who was still sleeping soundly despite the men’s talk. He made a motion to approach her.

  “Stay away from her!” Joseph shouted. “I swear if you touch one hair of her—”

  “Relax, Mr. Eizan. I would never dare to hurt her. I just want to talk with you,” the stranger said, raising his hands in surrender. “You are the true reason for my visit.”

  “You already told me that. Just stay the fuck away from her, understand?”

  “I will comply. But I need you to hear my proposition, which you might find interesting. It concerns your child.”

  “Shut up, fucker. Don’t make me kill you.”

  “I will not, and you cannot make me stay quiet, so listen.” The stranger fixed his clothes and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling windows on the right side of the room. He watched the dark and dead city with an unusual smile on his face, as though the somber ambiance amused him. His white coat contrasted against the black outside, making him glow.

  It was not the first time Joseph had seen the man, or the thing that pretended to be a man, standing before him. Joseph used to call that face 'my friend', though he was still young and naive in those days. It was before that night of drinks, bad decisions, and stupid egos that split them apart, causing his life to take a different turn. But that was a long time ago. He had changed. Decades force a person to change whether they want to or not. However, the thing before him didn’t deserve any of his memories and reflections. It was not a surfer, nor a Californian, nor a doctor, nor even human, for it was an impostor, a demon dressed in a doctor's clothes and with the face of a man long dead.

  “As I said, I have a proposition,” the stranger continued. “I need you to do something for us. Something insignificant. A delivery.”

  Joseph ignored him, for his attention lay on Alice.

  The stranger sighed. “Will you listen to my proposal, Mr. Eizan? This is important.”

  “Shut up and leave,” Joseph said without looking at him.

  “I will not until you listen.”

  Joseph clenched his teeth. He wanted to kick the stranger out of the room and break a bone or two while at it. But he knew he couldn’t. He had tried to lock him in a grip and drag him out of the room before—when he realized that the man was not a real doctor, when he still believed everything was real—but the stranger had overpowered him and shoved him away like a fly. He could have hurt the old Joseph if he felt inclined. Fortunately, the stranger liked to use his mouth more than his fists, though that didn’t make him any better, for he never shut up.

  “So, as I said,” the stranger continued. “We need you to recover, safeguard, and deliver something of considerable value to us. They are… small and light objects, which makes them easy to transport. You can even carry them in your pocket, if you want. And if jewelry is your fancy, you can make a necklace with the pieces and wear it around your neck. However, we implore you to be on your guard with them, for they are desired by many.”

  “Stop blabbering and leave, damn it!” Joseph yelled.

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  “And for whom are these precious objects? Well, we cannot say with certainty at this moment…” The stranger took a pause and looked around him, nodding, thinking. “Yes, oh yes, it’s complicated, very complicated indeed. At this moment, we do not know what this individual will look like, or whether it will be alone, with a partner, or part of a family. We are speaking of the distant future, of which we know nothing. The board is ever-changing, and the players will not wait for others to make their moves. It is arduous to devise our plays according to those of our opponent while we hide ours. But do not fret, Mr. Eizan—you will know that you are on the right track when you meet… her.”

  “I am not helping you, you crazy bastard. Get out!” Joseph yelled, pointing at the door.

  “Not even for your granddaughter’s salvation?”

  The stranger’s words echoed in Joseph’s head. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he said, glowering at him. “I will not allow you to make fun of my child.”

  “I will not, Mr. Eizan. My words carry the truth. Look at her. The cancer has consumed her completely. A few days is all she has left, at most. However, if you accept our proposal—trading your life for hers—we will save her. We know this is what you want.”

  “You know shit about me. Stop talking and get lost.”

  “Am I wrong?” The stranger looked around the room. “Observe the little scenario that your mind has constructed for our play. Everything here is of your own design, born from the core of your heart: the red carpet floor, the chandeliers on the roof, the wall made of glass behind me, the king-size bed that holds Alice’s frail body, and the giant sunflower over there. But no matter where we look, we won’t find the machines that are keeping her alive. And why? Because you erased them. You have built a room unlike the ICU room she is in. You hate seeing her in that state, don’t you? How the chemo, and the doctors, and the promises have stolen the little bit of life she has left. They cannot save her, Mr. Eizan, but we can.”

  Joseph's eyes turned red, and looked away. Maybe if I think hard enough, I can imagine this asshole jumping through the window, he thought.

  “Don’t be angry,” the stranger said. “I know that you might find this situation unbearable and ridiculous.”

  “Mostly ridiculous, ‘cause it’s not real. Nothing here is real. I know damn well this is just a dream I’m having.”

  “You are entirely correct. However, let us pretend we are in reality and not in your head. Can you?”

  Joseph shrugged.

  “Thanks for cooperating.” The stranger smiled. “Mr. Eizan, if you can let your anger subside for a moment and focus your attention on me and not on your child, you will dearly appreciate this offer. And allow me to add that this deal is extremely beneficial for you and detrimental for us.”

  “You sound like a scammer,” Joseph smirked.

  “I am being honest, Mr. Eizan. You see, you’re old, weathered, and in your last years. Your mark on the world is already set in stone. What you do from now on will have little impact on the lives of this planet and their future. However, your grandchild…” The stranger looked at Alice. “She has a long life ahead of her. A lot will change with her salvation, setting forth a ripple of events that will alter the future of this world. And yet, despite the hassle she and her descendants will create, we don’t mind taking this unfair exchange—because we really desire your services, Mr. Eizan. With this you can tell how highly we regard you. You are the perfect person for this job.”

  Joseph sneered. He was about to spit another gnarly remark and flip off the stranger when he noticed that the lights in the room started to blink and dim, as though they were being choked out of their life. Then he began to have trouble breathing, speaking, thinking. His head hurt. He felt a pressure around his temples and eardrums, as though a pair of hands were trying to crush his skull inward. Then a coldness ran down his spine, making him shake. Joseph fell down on his knees, holding his neck, desperately searching for air. He looked at the stranger, who stood still by the windows, hands in the pockets of his white robe, glowing in a pale and sacred light that seemed to blend with the ominous and unholy darkness behind him. And the darkness was coming inside the room, invading through the small crevices of the windows, slowly taking over everything, like the smoke of a room in flames that kills with suffocation before the fire can touch flesh. The darkness surrounded the stranger, and the stranger seemed to love it, for he was smiling.

  The stranger lied. There was never a choice in any of this for old Joseph. Only submit. His piece had already been placed on the board long ago without his consent. The asking was just a formality, a little gesture from the stranger to make him believe he was still in control of his destiny. False free will.

  Take the job, save your granddaughter, and be grateful for everything.

  But Joseph refused to submit, for he would never let others dictate his life. He was a stubborn man, a trait he was born with and polished in the course of his hard life. This stubbornness had saved him plenty of times, but had also made everything harder for him, and yet, he would never change, for it made him who he was.

  So Joseph clenched his hands and teeth and stood up. He stepped back and used his body to shield Alice’s bed. He grinned. Sweat covered his face. His body trembled and ached. Yet he stared at the stranger in defiance. Mustering all his will and courage, he said…