THE MARTIAN SCARECROW

by IMAN K. F.

  Lucas just stares at me. “But you’re so young,” he says, voice quiet. Sounds lost. “How do you feel? Are you sad? Scared?”

  I’d already spent countless hours trying to come to terms with my imminent death, so it wasn’t difficult to discuss it with Lucas. Without any hesitation I say, “I’ve thought about this for some time now. And I’m not terribly sad, but of course I’m not happy about it either. Sure, I wish I could live longer, and it would have been nice if I had finished my Scarecrowing term, got the Brain-Link, made things right with my parents, married Soraya, had kids, grew old, played with my grandchildren, and then died. But as both you and I know, life is not always straightforward. I have done good and bad in this life. There are things that I’m definitely not proud of. What I did to my parents was selfish, and they definitely deserved better. I wish I could have somehow fixed things, but the damage is done. And no one truly knows what comes after death, you know? Will there be nothing? Will I come back as a new spirit?” I throw up my hands. “Who knows, but maybe after this life I will get a chance to make it up to them."

  “Would you have done things differently if you had a chance to go back? Do you have regrets abandoning your family and your country?”

  I think the questions over for a few seconds. “It may sound odd but I don’t have regrets. Many will probably think that if I’d stayed I would have lived longer, and possibly had a better life. But what matters to me is that I tried. I didn't give up; I risked everything to build my own future. At least now I can say I did something. I’m glad that I got the chance to be part of the multi-planetary program. I hope I was able to contribute at least a tiny bit to the future of humanity. Sure being a scarecrow may sound silly, but it is something I am actually proud of. And, maybe, they’ll have found a cure for the Marles disease, thanks to my body.”

  The door to my room slides open, interrupting me as Amy enters. “Rustin, the specialist should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so,” she says in that overly-sweet nurse’s voice. “Please try to wrap your meeting up.”

  Lucas turns towards her. ”We’re almost done.”

  She then looks at me, her brow furrowed, and asks, “I know you’ve already signed all the paperwork and confirmed multiple times, but I still have to ask: are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes. I am sure,” I respond immediately, though I appreciate her concern. “I’d like to get it done during sunset, per my previous request.”

  She says, “Okay,” perhaps a little sadly, and walks back out the door.

  Lucas waits for her to leave the room before turning back to me. “Why do you want to do this during sunset? Any specific reason?”

  ”Yes,” I say. “But I don’t think it will matter much to you. Do you have anything else you’d like to ask instead?”

  Lucas seems a little surprised by my response, but continues with his next question. “Do you have any last words for the people that will be reading your story?”

  I give the question some thought, run my hand through my hair, feeling the lumps covering my scalp. “My brief message would be: Remember, I’m no hero—I am just a Scarecrow.”

  Lucas waits for me to elaborate more.

  Maybe my message isn’t as clear I thought, so I try to elaborate. “I don’t want people to think of me as a hero, someone making some great sacrifice. As humans, we have a tendency to make heroes out of the ones who are suffering. Many others have helped humanity far more than I ever have; they might not have suffered, but they are the true heroes. It’s important for me to point that out. That’s all.”

  We spend a few seconds in silence. He awkwardly takes a deep looks into my eyes. Then he looks away. We both look at the clock. Our time is pretty much over. He leans back in his chair, and put his hands behind his head for few more seconds. It seems like he’s letting all the information I’ve given him sink in. Then he bends slightly forward, puts hands on his knees, and finally gets up. “Rusty, it was a pleasure talking to you. Thank you for sharing your life story with me. I promise I’ll do my best to capture it in the most meaningful way. You have had quite a journey, and I’m sure your story will matter. I do have to say, though, that I wish this wasn’t goodbye.”

  Knowing Lucas is about to leave and my death will soon follow should make me feel anxious. But it doesn’t. At this point, I simply feel exhausted physically, and emotionally indifferent. I look at Lucas and my bumpy lips smile. “I'm grateful you sat through my story. I have to admit, it was nice to be heard. Thank you Lucas. I hope you get to fulfill your deepest desires.”

  As the door opens, Lucas looks at me one last time. I say, “Goodbye, my new friend. Don’t you ever give up trying.”

  He smiles, and leaves.

  With Lucas’s departure, despite of my calmness just moments ago, my heart is suddenly pounding with fear. It feels like blood is rushing down out of my head. A million things are going through my head. Should I really go through with this? What's wrong with me? I’d been so certain of my decision, but now that the time was so close…did I even believe everything I’d just said? Am I genuine?

  I close my eyes and try to shut my mind off. This had not been a hasty decision, I remind myself. I’d had plenty of time to think things through. At minimum, I owe it to myself to have a peaceful departure from this life. We all fear death; it’s not unusual to panic. It’s hard not to. Surely, we are made to live, but death is inevitable, a part of life. As the old novelist Chuck Palahniuk once said, “The goal isn't to live forever, but to create something that will.” And maybe I hadn’t achieved anything truly worthy, something that will last, but what matters to me is the fact that I worked towards my goals, and never gave up trying.

  Talking myself through it makes me feel more at ease. I turn the bed and face the window. While I’m repositioning, the specialist enters the room.

  Just like everyone else, he is covered by protective clothing. A somewhat stubby man, the coverall is tight against his belly. He has a full brown mustache peppered with white hair. I guess him probably in his forty’s. “Hello, there,” he says, and immediately gets to work. He sets a wide chrome briefcase on the chair, flips through a couple buttons to unlock its digital lock, and then opens it, revealing a series of cords and patches, and a black rectangular box the size of a lunch pail.

  I read the digital tag on his protective clothing. Gordon. “You are Gordon, right?” I ask.

  “Correct,” he quickly responds.

  “So how was your day?”

  He spares me only a brief look before going back to his work. He places the black box on the floor and then scoots it to the foot of the bed, plugs the cord into the box, and rotates some dials on it. “Good.”

  Not much of a chatter. I guess I shouldn’t blame him; this is not a pleasant task. Setting up equipment for someone to take his own life is definitely not inspiring. How would I have acted if doing the same work? I try again with the small talk. Maybe that will help him feel more comfortable.

  “Gordon, you are doing me a favor. This is a painless way for me to leave, otherwise I will either suffocate, or my internal organs will rip apart under the pressure of the expanding internal lumps. Either would be horribly painful.”

  Gordon finally opens up a little. “I typically don’t do this,” he says. “I mostly work in the electrical maintenance department, but I was authorized by Dr. Baker for this task, since I am the only person in EMCC who’s been officially trained on how to set up the electrical unit. I was hoping that I would never have to use it.”

  He then sticks a high-voltage patch device over my heart, connected to the black box from the cord. As the unit is charging, the box emits a shrill hum, causing my ears to ring. Thankfully, it lasts only a second as the charge completes, and the quiet returns. The entire setup only takes a few minutes. Then he hands me a remote, and looks me in the eye.

  “Whenever you are ready, you can push the button. The device will generate an extremel
y high voltage shock, which should stop the heart immediately. To be frank with you, the good news is that it will be mostly pain free, and only last a few seconds. I know you’ve already confirmed your decision with Dr. Baker and the others, but it’s not too late to change your mind. Please just say the word, and I can disassemble the unit in no time. ”

  “Thanks Gordon, but I have made up my mind,” I reply.

  Surely this is better than a slow painful death. I just never would have thought this would be the way I’d die. I always thought I would grow old, and die eventually from a heart attack—a much more typical death in our current society.

  Throughout history, the most common cause of death has changed based on scientific improvements, and environmental and social conditions. For example, as more and more cancer treatments are developed, the number of cancer deaths is continually decreasing. In the future, would more people die because of harsh Mother Nature, conditions due to global warming, or would scarce resources result in potential wars, inevitably leading to countless casualties?

  While I’m distracted by these thoughts, Gordon packs his tools.

  “That was quick,” I say.

  “Yes, it is a simple set up. I am all finished here. I hope you will find peace,” Gordon says, and then walks out of the room.

  I am alone now. I am lying in bed, facing the large windows. The view outside is beautiful. A perfect sunset. The sun’s red-orange color shining over the Mars ground reminds of my final day on my parents’ farm. My mom and I had chatted for hours, right through the sunset, lying down and facing that gorgeous painter’s pallet of a sky. I remember our scarecrow standing there as well, indifferent and motionless as always. I almost envied it for lacking emotions. How ironic! Now I am the scarecrow, but burdened with emotions.

  A few teardrops start running down my bumpy face. I have missed my parents. I hope they forgive me for what I have done. Time has passed, and I always thought it would get better, but it hasn’t. I never stopped thinking about them, or Soraya; the people that mean the most to me in this world, and yet I had managed to hurt them.

  I go over my memories of them again, again and again. I remember both good and bad. Oh, how much I would love to hold Soraya in my arms right now. I close my eyes, imagine us dancing to our favorite song. I take a deep breath, I smell her in the air. Thinking of her smile brings me peace. I will be gone, but my love for her will never die. I hope things get better for her. I hope she finds happiness in this life.

  Throughout my journey, I never did learn where home truly is. Is it the place we run to, or the place we run from? I hope one day Soraya and the rest of the colony get to call this place home. Whether it’s on Earth, or Mars, or any other planet, I hope humanity lives on. Life is a beautiful thing, even if it is a struggle at times.

  I am glad I lived, and will do it all over again if I can. I have had an unbelievable time living this life. And I am grateful.

  It all feels like a dream, now. I close my eyes, and let my mind dreams and imagination take me on one last journey. I imagine sitting with my humble parents around our round dining table, and laughing hard at a silly joke; we laugh so hard that tears fill all of our eyes. Then I see myself lying down in our farm’s wheat field, dreaming about the future. I still feel lost, but this time I am confident that I will be okay.

  I remember the time I was going to travel through the Vendetta's tunnel; I was worried, but so excited of what the future might bring. I’m reminded of how hard I worked to find a job at the refugee camp, of how terrified I was that all my hopes and dreams would go to waste. I was hopeless, yet determined to give it my all. I remember the time I got on that rocket; who would have thought that one day I’d leave Earth, my mother planet?

  I dream of Soraya’s crazy smile, the only sure remedy to all my problems. Everything else just sort of melted away when I was with her.

  An image enters my mind, a physically impossible vision, but one that brings goosebumps sprouting across my rusty skin. I imagine myself on the Scarecrow stand on Mars, looking over Earth from across the universe. Maybe I am on Mars protecting the crops, but I want to believe I am watching out for humanity, standing guard over our potential chance of survival. I hold on to that final vision, and slowly open my eyes. What a journey it has been. Full of ups and downs, but truly exceptional.

  I am mesmerized by how beautiful the sunset is, glowing in a breathtaking mix of yellows, oranges, and reds far on the horizon, and so very powerful. My heart is beating slowly, my breath is calm. I’ve never felt this peaceful before. I smile and embrace the moment.

  I believe my time has come.

  I feel the button under my rusty thumb. I press down.

  “Goodbye, life.”