Contentment

CONTENTMENT

Joe followed the man with the clipboard down the long, bright white hallway.  They walked past dozens of doors and the man said nothing to him. 

A gold key dangled off a red ribbon and was held to the clipboard by the metal clamp that also held Joe’s paperwork.  The key bounced around as the man walked and hit the metal clipboard now and then. Apart from the sound of their footsteps, the key hitting the clipboard was the only sound he could hear.  Well, apart from his own voice. 

“Could you at least tell me what happened?” Joe pleaded.  Like the dozens of other times he’d asked that question, it went unanswered.  The man just kept walking and he kept following and the key kept hitting the clipboard. Click click click. 

The man finally stopped and looked at a door on his left.  After looking down at his clipboard to make sure this was the correct room, he turned to face Joe.

“Well, Mr. Rollins,” the man said in a pleasant voice, “this seems to be your room.”

He turned the handle and stood back to let Joe come to the threshold of the door.  The room seemed really dark compared to the brightness of the hallway so it took Joe a few moments for his eyes to adjust.  As the room came into focus, he could hardly believe what he saw.

The braided rug of red and blue was by the bed.  He’d spent years as a child playing on that rug, running his toy trucks and cars over the rough surface. His bed was perfectly made with the blue plaid quilt on it - like his mother had just been there.  Joe never had learned to make his own bed, no matter how hard she tried.  The dresser still had his baseball glove on it and the worn ball his father used to toss him on warm summer evenings after he returned from work. He’d forgotten about the posters adorning his walls, but there they were right above his bookshelf, topped with the shoebox with his baseball collection.  He was in awe.

“I think we’ve got it all,” the man said from behind him. “We scanned every memory to make sure.”

“It even smells like my room,” Joe said quietly. It was true. He could smell the leather from the glove and it mixed with the smells of a home.

“I think you will find everything in order,” the man said. “Could you sign here please?” He thrust the clipboard towards Joe and offered him a pen.

“Sign here for what?” Joe asked.

“That you’ve received your room, obviously,” the man said as he motioned around the space. “You have agreed it’s all in order, correct?”

“Yes it looks the same…,” Joe started to say.

“Then I see no reason for you not to sign. If there is something missing, we’d be happy to address your concerns through a Quality Complaint. I will have to get someone from that department to be in touch. Just make a note there on the paper,” he said as he motioned to where Joe could write a comment.

“ No, no I have no complaints,” Joe said as he signed.

The man stood near the doorway as he looked through the paperwork to ensure all the pertinent documents were completed and signed as required. 

“I guess this is where I’ll leave you,” said the man.

“Leave me to what?” Joe said. “I don’t even understand what is happening.”

“Oh but I think you do,” said the man as he turned to leave. “If you’ll just try to remember, it will all come back.”

“Wait! Are you leaving?” Joe asked.

“Well, you aren’t my only stop today, Mr. Rollins,” the man said as he closed the door. 

Joe made a run for the door, but by the time he got there, the door was locked and he could not open it. He might have felt terrified were it not for the stickers on the door itself. He’d put them all there as a child. He scratched the purple one and he could smell the faint scent of grape.

He held his baseball glove as he sat on the bed and tried to work out how he got here.  He was an adult and hadn’t seen this room in over twenty years. That’s how long it had been since he had left home. Just the day before, he’d been with Martin and Jay.  Where were Martin and Jay?

He thought about his life and he knew he was a disappointment to the woman who wallpapered the room in which he now sat.  He’d lived a scoundrel’s life. He couldn’t even blame bad parenting. He had great parents. Claude Rollins was a mechanic and his wife Lucy was a stay at home mom.  Joe was their only son and he was a classic story of someone who had fallen into the wrong crowd. 

They committed little crimes at first. A stolen watch here, shoplifting there and pretty soon, they were skilled thieves who had done time in the juvenile criminal system and then graduated to adult prison when it got serious. 

He tried to go straight at one point, but he became a young man with a record.  He would have done anything to get rid of the look of shame he saw in his mother’s eyes and have his father talk to him again.  While in prison he finished high school and started to make big plans about fixing his life, but securing a good job was near impossible once people found out about his past.

Eventually he just couldn’t take being the disappointment he knew he was and he got in touch with Martin and Jay again.  At least he could have money with them.  He left his mom and dad a note and he was gone.

But now he was inexplicably back. Back in the room where his life started and he couldn’t understand how he got here. If you’ll just try to remember, it will all come back, the man had said just a few minutes before now.  Okay, he would try to remember.

Yesterday he was with Martin and Jay and they were planning a gas station robbery. The station had a female clerk at night and she wouldn't put up any resistance. When they got there, though, it wasn’t her.  It was her brother.  He was a tall man who had just returned from serving in the military. Jay saw him and wanted to call off the heist, but Martin said they needed to move forward.

“The plans stand,” Martin said.

“This is stupid,” Jay pleaded. “Look at that guy. He’s a bloody wall.  He could break us in half.” Then Martin flashed his gun.

“No guns,” Joe said. “We were just going to pretend we had one in our pocket, remember?”

“You believed that?” Martin chided. “This isn’t a stupid movie. This is real life and we need a gun.”

“Evening,” said the man behind the counter as they entered.

“Open the till!” screamed Martin as he ran to the counter and thrust out his gun. Jay ran around the side of the counter. His job was to grab the cash. Joe stood at the door and kept watch.

“No way,” said the man, as calm as anyone could be.

“The money! Now!” said Martin, through clenched teeth.

The man behind the till bent forward and before anyone could even understand what was happening, he had secured a loaded shotgun. The front of the counter was blown away as the shot hit Martin directly in the chest.  He then turned towards a stunned Jay and fired again. Joe had run towards his friends by instinct alone and he was the last to fall.

Joe put his glove down on his childhood bed and felt his chest. He should have a gaping wound from the shotgun, but he felt nothing.  Yesterday he’d been  a part of a criminal enterprise, but now he was sitting in his old bedroom.

If he had died, and he was certain that he had, he was fairly certain his eternity shouldn’t look like this. His parents had taken him to church as a child and he knew what became of sinners. They sure didn’t end up in their old bedrooms. 

Maybe he was forgiven? Was that possible? His mother said God could forgive anything. While he couldn't remember the exact moment of his death, it was entirely possible he’d asked God to forgive him just as he passed.  That had to be it. 

He felt relaxed with the thought. He started to relive his childhood through the comics on his shelf. He reread his books and even tossed the ball against the wall to catch it.  The toys in his closet became friends again and he played just as he had as a child. He was an only child, so he was adept at solitary play.  Years passed and he found a quiet contentment in his eternity. He’d found the peace he’d given up in life for his life of crime.

The door opening up came as a shock to him. He was lying on the bed with one of his comics when the man came into the room again. It had been years, but he looked exactly the same. The same white suit, impeccable pleats in the pants and the perfectly shined shoes.

“Mr. Rollins, I bring news,” he said.

“News?” Joe asked.

“Yes, your parents died today, I’m afraid. A car accident on the way home from visiting your grave,” he said matter of factly.  “They didn’t suffer,” the man said. “That should give you some comfort. They are at peace.”

“Wow,” Joe said as he grappled with the news. Then he smiled.

“Why are you smiling?” the man asked.

“Well, I know it’s selfish,” began Joe, “but I really can’t wait to see them.”

“I see,” said the man as he lowered his head.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful. The room has been terrific. I mean, you guys got every detail! It’s amazing,” Joe said as he rose to his feet. “But I’m going to be really happy to see them. I’ve got a lot to apologize for, there’s so much to say.”

The man just nodded.

“So I don’t know what the protocol is here, but do I come with you? Do they just come here?” Joe looked around the room. “Do they get a room next to me? Are you guys going to recreate our entire house now?”

“I’m not sure you understand what is happening,” the man said, “Why would your parents come here? They’ve done nothing to deserve that.”

“What do you mean? They won’t come here?” Joe was confused, “My parents are good people! Of course they will come here!”

“Oh, I see,” the man said with a laugh. “You really don’t understand where you are.

Joe stared at the man, trying to understand what he meant. Around him, the room and its contents started to vanish into a stark white room similar to the hallway.

“Your parents are indeed good people. Good people don’t come here,” the man said.

“What’s happening to my room?” Joe asked as he watched it all disappear.

“While your parents were alive, this room existed in their memory. Now they are not alive, their memories are gone,” said the man.

“You can’t do this to them. I am their son! They will want to see me!,” Joe pleaded.

“We’ve taken care of that,” the man said.

“You are going to stop them from seeing their only child? You just said they are good people. They don’t deserve that!” Joe yelled.

“We would never do that,” said the man. “We took away the memory of you.”

Joe took a few steps backwards as the shock hit him. His room was gone. His life was gone. His parents were gone.  His eternity was complete with the searing pain he now felt across his chest. He reached up and felt the gunshot wound as if it just happened.

“I’m sure you will agree they deserve a peaceful eternity, especially after everything you put them through,” said the man. “We’d never let them suffer. But as for you, you don’t get contentment.”