Oliver Benjamin
tape…”
“I’m fine now. Really. If I die anytime soon it’ll be someone
else’s fault.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yeah.”
“You know, it’s really not so bad on the other side. There’s some
great musicians.”
I told him no thanks, but decided to ask him about the one
musician that I knew personally.
“Oh, him? Yeah, he’s fine. Drives us up the wall with all those
apes of his, though. They really suck at harmonica.”
“Thanks, Death.”
“No problem. Till death do us party! Have a good rest of your
life, now.”
“I sure will,” I said, lifting my cup to him in salutation. And then
he was off again, in search of souls to release from sorrow.
The next morning, I fixed to go. Haridas had given me a coat and a
little food to take with me on my trip down. I insisted that he take
some money for his trouble, but he refused. He said that the glow in
my eyes was payment enough, but when he wasn’t looking I stuffed a
few bills into his “snot pot.” He would find it tomorrow, hopefully
before he poured it down his nose.
We hugged for a long time, and to my surprise, tears began to
pour down my face. Here it was: My other side of the island. I arrived
here truly by accident, and I was leaving filled with meaning and
purpose. Thank you Haridas, I thought to myself. Thank you for
helping me to pull to the center was once destined to be a marginal
life.
After a long time, we let go of each other, and I walked out of his
garden and down the rocky trail. When I looked back from further
down the mountain, I saw Haridas still standing and watching my
departure.
I calmly navigated the awkward descent with greater awareness
and control over my situation and myself. That had been my first and
least difficult test. The next one, however, would be murder.
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