The Will to Die

by Joe Pulizzi

  The first one I came to was my high school graduation photo. There were other pictures of me as a teenager. Some were in school. Some were me on my bike. Then there was a collage of ten or so of me making out with my high school sweetheart, Robin Kaufman. Further down was Robin and me with our shirts off in the back of my dad’s old car.

  Jack and I just looked at each other. I took the phone light to show the other side of the wall. More and more pictures of me from every stage of my life. As we moved down the hall, there were pictures of me at college. One from the first day I moved into my college dorm. One of me during my summer internship at the radio station. More of me working at Pollitt Funeral Home.

  When we reached the pictures of Sam, things seemed to intensify. The number of pictures doubled, and they were pasted on top of each other. I found one from our first date. One of us at a Cleveland Indians game. Another with both of us naked in our first apartment.

  I felt violated. The only thing that was holding back the regurgitation was the near-death situation of every person I loved. I said nothing to Jack. I started walking faster. I broke into a slow jog. Then I was running, until I finally reached the door, with Jack following a few feet behind. I shined the light on the door handle and briefly noticed a picture of me at Gamblers Anonymous, taken Wednesday.

  I looked at the phone time. It was 1:28 a.m. We still had four minutes. I pushed down on the door handle and heard a click, then pushed forward to open the door.

  Chapter 38 – The Truth

  It took four strong pushes to open the door enough for Jack and me to slide through. The more the door opened, the more the incoming light blinded my eyes. I heard a voice.

  “Leave the gun in the hall. The same goes for you, Jackson. Leave that big bad rifle in the hallway, and then you can come out. I have a gun pointed at your daughter, William, just in case you do something unplanned,” Alex said. “Then you can come out of my little tribute room with your hands up.”

  I kept the door open with my right shoulder and raised my hands over my head. Jack followed behind me with one of his hands holding the PopC popsicle six-pack. We were both squinting from the brightness, and I couldn’t immediately locate where the four were.

  “What’s that in your hand, Jackson? Tell me quickly or I’ll shoot it off,” boomed Alex’s voice from somewhere.

  “It’s popsicles. For Robby, Denise, Sam, and Jess. For the dehydration,” I said loudly.

  Alex laughed. “Popsicles? Don’t you think good old H2O would work better, William?”

  “We didn’t have time. It’s the only thing I could grab,” I said.

  “Okay, okay. If it makes you feel better. Totally unnecessary though. Jackson, be a dear and hand those cold treats to William, would you?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Jack lowered his left arm a bit and placed the six-pack into my right hand. As soon as I grasped them, I heard a loud pop, and Jack dropped to the ground.

  I looked down, and Jack was holding his leg.

  “Jesus Christ,” Jack said. “This is exactly what happened in ’Nam. You motherfucker, Traynor. When I get up I’m going to cut your goddamned head off and stick it up your deranged ass.”

  “You do know how to talk dirty, don’t you?” Alex said, laughing.

  I looked at Jack’s leg. The amount of blood startled me. He must have seen the look in my eyes. “It’s okay, son,” he said.

  My eyes were beginning to focus. There were two levels. Jack and I were on the upper one. It almost looked like a running track of some sort, with stairs on two sides to get down to the main level. Alex was on my right, down a level and about thirty feet away. Behind him was a massive array of screens and technology. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was the IT department for Apple or Facebook.

  Around the turn, another thirty feet away or so, were the four mummified bodies. Their eyes were looking my direction. Another five feet away from them were four open retorts. Even from this distance, I could feel the heat. Traynor’s old crematory, the one that I knew about, was in a different location on the east side. This one must have been added in the last twenty years. I’ve never seen one large enough to cremate up to four bodies at one time.

  The side opposite was cluttered with cardboard containers, most likely for body disposal into the crematory, which led to a door on the far side. There were large boxes, for humans, and smaller ones, like the size of a gift box. For pets? Against the law to mix humans and animals. Not that it mattered now.

  “Before you come down the stairs to me,” Alex said, “I want you to close that door tight. I wouldn’t want anyone else getting in. Or Jackson getting any crazy ideas.”

  I pushed the door shut tight and knelt down in front of Jack. “How bad?” I asked.

  “I’ve had worse,” he whispered. “Go do what you came here to do.”

  The popsicles were cold in my hand, but they were thawing a bit in the humidity of the room. Not bad though. The PopC advertisements were true—the six-pack box did act like a portable cooler.

  “Can I bring these down with me?” I asked Alex, raising up both my hands, one holding the six-pack.

  “Come on down nice and slow.”

  I kept my hands raised and balanced down the steps one at a time. As I reached the bottom, I took a good look at the four, especially Robby. His left leg was sopping in blood. I could no longer tell if he was conscious or not. Then I looked at Sam. Ever since I’ve known Sam, her eyes were always those of hope, even in the worst of times. At this moment, I only saw despair. I used it as motivation.

  Alex was close-by, pointing a small gun in my direction, watching my every move as I set the popsicles on a double stack of cardboard boxes.

  “Now keep your hands as high as possible,” he said, walking in my direction. As he approached, he strolled behind me, lightly grazing a gun along my shoulders. Then he thoroughly patted me down, starting at my hips and moving down to my ankles. “Good boy, William,” he whispered and grazed my back with his shoulder as he passed, picked up the popsicles, and headed back to his monitor station.

  “Do you want to explain the ‘This Is Your Life’ walk down memory lane I just saw?” I asked.

  “I’ve so wanted to show you that over the years,” Alex said. “Yes, I must confess that I had a boy crush on you so many years ago. When that,” he paused, “faded, I decided to keep a living journal of your escapades. I must say, I’m awfully disappointed with you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You don’t know? Why, William, that may be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. Well, you were given everything on a silver platter. In high school, you were so smart. You could have been anything. But you went to an average college, barely challenging yourself, and came out with a marketing degree,” he said with distaste. “Then you seemed to make up for it a bit by finding an intelligent woman to marry. You had a daughter. I thought you were making a comeback. But then you showed your true self.”

  Alex started walking toward the four, waving his gun back and forth. “I’m wondering if you really told her everything,” he said, now standing over Sam. “I bet your daughter certainly doesn’t know.”

  Alex walked over, lifted up a portion of Jess’s hair, rubbing it together. Then he smelled it.

  “Jessica,” he said, looking down at her. “Did you know your daddy had to take a second mortgage on your house because he gambled away a half million in the stock market? I bet you didn’t. And did you know that when he went to the bank to take out the second mortgage, he forged your mother’s signature? Did you also know that your father had thirty-six—that’s three-six—credit cards at one time? My favorite was the Farmer’s Bank of Iowa card. Was that your favorite, William? Or maybe it was the one from HongLeong Bank where your name was Jack Loh?” he said, looking back at me.

  He walked around Jess and stood to the right side of Sam. “And dear, sweet Samantha,” he said looking down at her. He placed his hand on her forehead.
“I’m sure you think you know everything by now, even after all of William’s lies and cover-ups. Well, I bet you didn’t know he has yet to pay for your sweet daughter’s tuition. It was due in full more than thirty days ago. Tsk, tsk. Both a lying husband and a deadbeat dad. Not a worthy combination.”

  While I didn’t want Sam and Jess to know those things, it didn’t matter at the moment. The only thing I cared about was making sure we all made it out alive.

  Alex was out of range of the monitors, but I could see them clearly. There was activity around town. People were moving. Little by little there were more and more cars. Maybe the message was received. I needed to create more time.

  “Let me ask you, Alex,” I said. “You were always such a gentle, kind person. Remember that time we found the toad by the side of the road. You picked it up, and we walked it about a mile and took it to the marsh. So why all this killing of minorities? How could you hurt innocent people?”

  Alex dropped the smile from his face. “Why, we just hit fast-forward on the inevitable. These bodies were going to die regardless. We gave them a little push in the right direction and made some money in the process to fund something greater. All this technology is expensive. You should know that. The end does justify the means. Some people don’t believe that you know, but it’s most definitely true.”

  “But African-Americans, Latinos, Asian-Americans, even homosexuals. Why? Because they’re different in some way?”

  “That is my father’s vision. And his band of merry white men. To rid the world of the unclean. I have a higher calling, a different calling, but as they say, two birds with one stone. They get their perfect world, and I get to have my tech toys. It’s actually quite brilliant.” His eyes lit up. “These far right-wingers will do practically anything to turn the clock back on America. Back to the good old days. They believe anyone not white and straight is to blame for their lot in life. Always looking for someone to blame,” Alex said, lowering his voice.

  “In high school, we had black friends, we had gay friends. How can you turn your back on them, murder them?”

  “They were never my friends. I only had one friend ...”

  “Are you talking about me, Alex? Yes, we were great friends. We were best friends. And then something happened after sophomore year. What happened?” I asked. This was where I was hoping to go. “When junior year came around, you were a different person. You were angry at the world. You stopped talking to me.”

  Alex was pacing, moving around Robby, then Denise, then Sam, seemingly talking to himself. Whatever he was saying, I couldn’t hear it.

  “Tell me, Alex!” I said. I looked again at Robby. He was definitely unconscious.

  Alex started walking back over to the monitors with his head down. “I was unclean,” he said. “My father fixed me.”

  “How did he fix you?”

  He frowned. “He tied me up to a chair and ran electric current through my body.”

  “What did he say was wrong with you? How were you unclean?”

  “Because I liked boys,” he paused. “Because I liked you. My father helped me get rid of my sickness.”

  “But if you liked me so much, why are you doing this to my family? First my mother, and now everyone I love in my life. If I’ve done something wrong, that’s fine. Take it out on me. But not them. They’ve done nothing.”

  “That’s not true,” Alex said, suddenly angered. “They are a part of you, William. It’s partially their fault that you’ve failed so much. They’ve been way too lenient on you, just watching you make mistake after mistake. That’s the opposite of love. Now you need to be punished, and they need to be punished with you. There is no other way.”

  “Why do I need to be punished?”

  Alex hesitated, then lifted his head to meet my eyes. “I’m unclean because of you. If you don’t exist,” he paused, “I can be free. That’s the only way.”

  Chapter 39 – A Disappointment

  The entrance at the back opened. A short, round woman came through and held the door, followed by an older man with a cane. It took me a second to see that it was John Traynor with Janet. My Janet. The same Janet that practically raised me while my parents were busy running the funeral home. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.

  “Alex,” the old man said. His voice was strong and carried. “What the hell is going on?”

  “What are you doing here, Father? You should be napping. And where’s your wheelchair?”

  Janet helped the old man reach a section of boxes. They were about twenty feet to my left, and Alex was twenty to my right. I stepped back.

  “Janet just ended her volunteer shift, and I wanted to stay up for her. And how could we not notice that half the city of Sandusky is headed this way, led by the feds. And now I see this?”

  “Our best men are guarding the entrances,” Alex said. “Nothing will happen. No one will find their way down here. This is all part of the plan.”

  “You are assuming again, Alex. We live in a world of fact. And the facts are that whatever this little pet project you have here is distracting you from the truth.”

  Part of me wanted to let this play out to see what would happen, but Robby was in real trouble. The blood was beginning to pool, and he was losing time. I peeked back up at Jack. No movement. So I decided to take a risk.

  I blurted out, “Alex, we could have been together if it wasn’t for him.”

  Alex turned his head. “What did you say?”

  “I liked you in high school as well. We could have been together.” I pointed at Alex’s father. “But he took it all away from us.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Alex said. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Is that what this is?” the old man asked. “Some kind of sick homo fantasy.”

  “I knew it,” Janet said. “He was never cured of his sickness,” she whispered to the old man, but both Alex and I could hear her.

  “Are you having sex with this unclean piece of trash?” the old man asked. “Have you lost your way again, Alex?”

  Alex’s eyes started to tear up. His arms hung straight to the ground. I could see his hands starting to tremble. I had seen him like this a few times in high school, but every time I asked him about it, he snapped out of it and changed the subject.

  “Listen, Alex,” I said. “You are not unclean. There is nothing wrong with you. Being gay is not wrong. Your father is trying to take all that away from us.”

  “Oh my God,” Janet said. “I should have known Abe’s boy was like this when he started hanging around with the black boy. How did we even think for a second that he could be useful? We could have taken care of this problem days ago.”

  I was almost caught off guard listening to this from the wonderful woman I grew up knowing. I quickly cut her off.

  I turned toward Alex. “Your father shocked you and made you hurt all over because he has the problem. He’s the one that’s unclean. He’s been lying to you your entire life.”

  There was something coming from Janet. Almost like a huffing and puffing. I turned to look at her. Her face was the color of an apple. Then she said, “Are you going to do something about him, Alex, or do I need to teach you both a lesson? This is such a disappointment. Alex...you are such a disappointment.”

  She was already falling backward before I even heard the popping sound. The bullet pierced the center of Janet’s forehead, traveled through her skull, and lodged itself into the back wall of the room. There was blood everywhere. I looked back at Alex. The gun was shaking in his hand. He was staring at the ground.

  The old man screamed out. “Oh my God. My love. My love.” He dropped down beside her and went to caress her face, but there was little left. He held her hand tight in both of his and began to wail. Then he wiped his eyes with his forearm and tried to compose himself. He picked up his cane off the floor and pushed himself upright.

  I looked back at Alex. The gun was now pointed toward the floor. He’d stopped trembling,
but had begun mumbling something over and over. I finally made it out. “You are not my mother. You are not my mother. You are not my mother.” His chanting was the only sound in the room.

  John Traynor stomped his foot. “Boy, you have sinned. You must repent and do penance. Now.” The old man pointed to the back door. “Now leave the gun, go to the special room, and wait for me. I’ll clean up this mess you started, and I’ll be back for you shortly.”

  I hadn’t foreseen this. If Alex left John Traynor to clean up this mess, the old man would waste no time and kill us all. I had no leverage with the older Traynor. At the moment, I could only think of one thing.

  “Alex, please let me take the popsicles down to them. They’re severely dehydrated. You’re still in control, and I have no weapon. Please let me do this.”

  I wasn’t sure if he heard me. Alex just stood staring at Janet’s dead body. “Father, Janet served her purpose. She wasn’t needed anymore. Can’t you see that?” Alex was talking to the old man but wasn’t. He seemed to be talking through him.

  Then he snapped out of whatever trance he was in. He turned his head my way. “Oh, the popsicles, did you say, William? As a child, my favorite thing in the world to eat was popsicles. Couldn’t get enough of them.”

  With his right hand still clutching the gun, he took the top off the six-pack and seemed to read the cover. “Chocolate triumph,” he said. “What a wonderful flavor and a fitting name for the best of all flavors. I can’t believe they haven’t melted entirely. It’s a bit toasty down here, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t answer.

  He tore the multicolor wrapper from one of the popsicles, grabbed the stick, and brought the popsicle close to his lips. It had already started melting down his hand.

  He turned his left hand to the side and took a bite of the popsicle like he was eating ribs. “Such an odd version of chocolate,” he said. He took another bite, trying to figure out the taste. His face quickly turned red. His hands convulsed. He dropped the popsicle and the gun to the ground and tried to grab his throat with his hands. Then he collapsed, heaving in short breaths.