Pomegranate Juice
"I wouldn't try that if I were you."
Stifling an angry growl at the interruption, Cody tore his gaze from the frigid, tempting waters of the Charles River and shot an indignant glare in the direction of the foreign voice, it's owner staring at him with a bright smile and a pair of blue eyes that seemed to pierce into him, analyzing his every move.
It was Christmas Eve.
A Salvation Army bell ringer, armed with an additional green bucket, situated her station a few blocks away, her cries of "Merry Christmas" and the ringing of her yellow bell resonating clearly through the air. Even closer to the bridge was a large shopping mall, finally quiet from the mad dash of last minute shoppers that it had received in the later afternoon. It's lights, some twinkling merrily in multicolor, reflected some of the Christmas joy that multitudes of parents had felt while purchasing from the mall gifts, gifts that were eventually wrapped and hidden from the many children who were now shaking with excitement in their living rooms, milk and cookies set out to welcome the holiday's midnight house guest.
A light drizzle of fresh snowflakes were falling from the heavens, prepared to envelop the city of Boston, Massachusetts with its first snowfall for the year. It was indeed a joyous season, one that celebrated the birth of a Messiah. It was a season of joy, merriment, and good cheer.
And yet Cody was unhappy.
Tucking his already gloved hands into his jacket pockets to protect them from the cold, Cody squinted as the man who had spoken came into focus beneath the snowfall that was gradually getting heavier. The man was slightly shorter than himself; his chin adorned with a long grey beard, his face covered with wrinkles that spoke of age and silent wisdom. Realizing that he was dressed in old, dirty clothes, Cody scrunched up his nose in disgust as he realized that the man was probably one that was homeless, one that stuck his nose into other people's business when he had nothing better to do.
"Try what?"
"You know very well what."
The man stuck up head out over the railings that separated the bridge from the Charles River and shuddered, as Cody stood beside him frustrated, waiting for him to go away.
"Definitely wouldn't feel good."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
The man then looked back at Cody, his earnest eyes boring into his very soul.
"I'm pretty sure you do, young man. What in the world were you thinking! What about Bailey, Zack…and on Christmas Eve, too!"
Cody frowned wearily, slightly taken aback by the use of the names of his wife and brother.
"Do I…know you? How do you know Bailey and Zack?"
"Oh, I make it my business to know lots of things." The man waved his hand to brush away Cody's question, as though it were no big deal at all, prompting a look of indignant disbelief on the face of the Doctor of Molecular Biology. "Listen to the sounds of the city, doctor! The bright, beautiful lights! The thoughts of so many enthusiastic young children at home just waiting for tomorrow to come!"
"Exactly!" Cody swung around and kicked the railing in frustration. "It's all that! It's the sounds of the damn city! It's the damn bright lights! It's all these…cheery…cheery thoughts! It's making me sick!"
The man didn't give any indication of being taken aback by Cody's outburst. Instead, he spoke silently.
"And taking your own life accomplishes what exactly?"
Not pondering over the fact that he was now ranting endlessly to a stranger, Cody prattled on.
"For four years I've been working at the lab, spending endless hours on research on particles too small to be seen with the naked eye. Four…meaningless years! Do you have any idea how terribly frustrating it is to have to drag myself back to that laboratory every day to stuff my head into papers and the mindless droning of the other researchers? And here these people are…" Cody thrust an angry index finger in the direction of the city, where the bright lights were still shining. "These people, going about their days, heralded like sheep, going along with the flow of life so innocently happy, while I'm stuck here completely miserable! Why shouldn't that be a good enough reason to end it? I wish I never had been born!"
His last sentence perked up the attention of a cuddling couple at the other end of the bridge, one that separated and looked around, startled at his outburst, before walking away to a safer spot where their eardrums wouldn't be threatened. His words rang sharply through the air, the syllables taking a while to dissipate.
There was an unsettling silence before someone spoke again.
"I can't exactly answer that question."
Cody looked up from the particularly interested ground under his feet.
"No…I can't answer…wait…" The man closed his eyes in concentration for a few seconds before perking up and snapping his fingers loudly, cracking the air and startling Cody. "That's it!"
Cody frowned.
"Huh?"
"I was worried that it would be difficult to help, but hey, you've got the solution all by yourself! You wish you had never been born! So you haven't!"
The man was grinning a grin akin to the Cheshire Cat at this point, practically prancing around in a small circle, much to Cody's astonishment.
"What the hell are you even talking about?"
The man walked forward and rested his hands on Cody's shoulders.
"You get your wish!"
Cody shrugged off the man's hands impatiently before turning around, ready to walk away from the madman.
"You're crazy!"
"Now, now, look here…" The man picked up a small, brown case that was resting on the ground beside him before snapping open the hinge that kept the case closed. Despite himself, Cody turned back hesitantly at the sound, inquisitive, only to have the dirty case thrust into his hands.
"Take that with you."
"What the hell is this?"
The man smiled.
"It'll stop doors from being closed in your face. Trust me. Take it with you."
Cody snorted in derision.
"Why would I go around bugging people so late at night in the first place?"
Turning his attention away from the irritating little man, Cody peeked into the open case and spotted a few bottles of pomegranate juice from a local fruit juice conglomerate. Having purchased flavors from the local brand in the past Cody made a quaint observation and realized that the juices were not sold cheaply in local stores and supermarkets, and wondered how a homeless man could afford them. Shaking his head at his distractedness, Cody angrily snapped the case shut and thrust it forward.
"Here, take it back."
He thrust it into air. The man was gone.
Grumbling under his breath, Cody drew the case back closer to him and reopened it, taking out a bottle of pomegranate juice and staring at the label, lost in the bottle's nutritional contents.
From afar, a church bell rang through the night, the single note thundering through the holy house from which it had come and escaping into the night air, the bright lights of the Boston night sky twinkling brightly as the stars sang a joyous, silent melody. A quiet mist enveloped the bridge that overlooked the Charles River, encasing its single pedestrian in an intoxicating fog.
He slowly succumbed to unconsciousness.
When Cody finally came to, the night was just as quiet as before, the stars still affixed in the sky, the bright lights from the nearby mall still as mocking as ever. Picking up the brown case that lay at his feet, Cody slowly rose from the spot on the bridge and shook his head clear.
What was that?
Cody had no idea, but he had no intention of staying out in the frigid cold, as the surrounding temperature gradually dropped. Absentmindedly forgetting his intention to leave the abandoned case on the bridge, Cody tucked it under his arm as he ran off the small bridge to his car, which was parked and locked up securely on the side of the road. Throwing the case into the passenger seat, Cody stuck his key into the ignition and set the car into gear, intending to head back to the laboratory to finish up a couple of drug tests before it finally closed for the season.
It was a short, ten-minute drive to the Wheeler industries research facility, a large facility that encapsulated multiple wings, where Cody had spent most of his last four years toiling in its molecular biology laboratory. Despite his abhorrence to the grueling and brain numbing work, Cody was indeed one of the most well respected researcher in the laboratory in which he worked, the PHD clearly allowing him to stand out amongst his peers who frequently crowded around his lab bench asking for advice.
The place was nearly dead to him now, with its pretentious glass walls and innumerous autoclaves and spectrophotometers, but on this dark, Christmas Eve night Cody suddenly felt a pang of silent sentimentality towards the building, one that stood as a symbol for his childhood pursuit for academic excellence and his need to learn more about the world around him. As cold and boring as research work could be, it was perhaps the fact that he was so good at it that made him somewhat feel at home within the glass walls.
Cody was of course somewhat cold himself.
Right now, there were a few Petri dishes of growing bacteria that were sitting in a heated water-bath up on the 5th floor, waiting for him.
Pulling up in the parking lot, Cody walked up to the front door the same way he had for the past four years. Detachedly, he gave a casual wave to the security guard who sat at the front desk before realizing that the man was asleep, and stepped into the elevator, pushing the same button as he had for four years and waiting as it ascending to his home away from home.
The elevator dinged. Doctor Martin had arrived.
The lab was surprisingly quiet. Cody wondered where he usually hardworking colleagues had gone, before slapping his head as he realized the date. 24th of December. Christmas Eve.
Slipping his hand into his jacket pocket, Cody withdrew a laboratory pass and absentmindedly held it in front of the scanner that kept the glass doors to the laboratory locked and safe from prying eyes. He waited for the automatic doors to slide open and welcome him.
Five seconds passed. Nothing.
Frowning, Cody looked down at the scanner and the car in his right hand, flipping it over a few times to make sure that that he was orienting it correctly. The scanner continuously beeped a green LED, ensuring him that the device had not malfunctioned.
Odd…
Frustrated, Cody pushed a finger to the button on the intercom located directly above the scanner and tapped his feet impatiently, waiting for the sleeping guard on the ground floor to awake from his slumber and attend to him.
The intercom buzzed.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Bob. It's Doctor Martin." Cody closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall. "Something's wrong with the card reader on the 5th floor. It's not sensing my card, and I need to enter the lab to continue my experiments."
There was a moment of silence as the guard on the opposite end pondered his words.
"Hello? Bob, are you there?"
"Hi, I'm sorry, who is this again?"
Cody frowned, frustrated.
"Doctor Martin? From the Department of Molecular Biology?"
There was more silence.
"I'm sorry…" The voice from the intercom was buzzing and unclear. "There isn't a Doctor Martin registered under the department."
Cody's eyes widened as his brain struggled to comprehend the guard's words. They seemed absolutely ridiculous.
"What? That's preposterous." Cody spluttered. "Could you please check again?"
It seemed like eternity before the guard spoke again.
"I'm sorry Sir, but there isn't any Doctor Martin registered in this wing of the facility, let alone the Department of Molecular Biology. Are you sure you're in the right building?"
Cody's hands shook as he struggled to maintain his finger's hold on the intercom. His heart sank as he brain flashbacked on the recent events of the past hour. The bridge, the man in the dirty old clothes, his words…
He refused to believe, and yet at the same time, there didn't seem to be another explanation.
Placing his mouth to the intercom, Cody struggled to keep his tone constant amidst his nervousness.
"I am in the wrong wing of the facility, forgive me…sorry for troubling you."
"It's no problem at all, sir. Have a pleasant evening, and Merry Christmas."
Slowly, Cody lifted his finger off the intercom and stared at the device. Raising his right hand, he looked at the laboratory pass with his face printed unsmilingly across the electronic card, his name etched in bold, block letters that stared back at him coldly.
"Dr Cody Martin."
Cody shuddered.
God…
It was with blinding haste that Cody floored the accelerator of his Volvo, the jet-black vehicle tearing through the streets of Boston, startling more than one family that was resting and waiting for Christmas at home. The issue with the identity card back at the lab had startled him, leaving him with an even greater urge to arrive at the destination that he had planned to go to earlier that night.
His parents' house.
Gradually as Cody sped along the nearly empty streets, he realized the absurdity of the situation. He had clearly been too sleepy, slightly disoriented, and confused, probably resulting in him imagining that he had been shut out of the laboratory. Even as his mind scanned over the past occurrence and played it back to him it seemed more than ridiculous. Trying his best to convince himself that he had dreamed everything, his foot gently lifted off the accelerator as he breathed in heavily.
It's okay, Cody. Everything's fine.
The scene replayed in his head again, now more outrageous and nonsensical than before. He chuckled nervously to himself, shaking his head.
It didn't take him long to arrive at his parents' house, also an area of accommodation for his twin brother Zack, who frequently left the state for business. Though he had frequently joked about Zack being too lazy to succeed in life when they were teenagers, Cody couldn't help but feel proud for his brother's successes in business. Born with a glib tongue, Zack had decided on a route bypassing college to set up a successful business with two partners. They had already expanded across America, and as Cody could tell from Zack's last enthusiastic phone call, they were in the midst of planning a branch spread to Europe.
You surprised us all, Zack. Carey and Kurt, who had finally gotten back together whilst Cody was in college, were pleasantly surprised and in great support of Zack's success.
Finally, he pulled up on the sidewalk next to his parents' house, a quaint little abode located in the suburbs of Boston. Stepping out of the car, Cody took a whiff of the fresh winter air and smiled as he glanced at the house, with its whitewashed walls and perfectly manicured lawn, now covered with a layer of thin snow.
His other home away from home.
The house held a very special spot in Cody's heart. He remembered having to fight with other potential buyers to purchase the house for his parents, the house being a special get-back-together gift that Cody had purchased to express his glee at his parents finally getting remarried. Carey, and Kurt (who had split up his band after realizing that he just wanted to be with his ex-wife) were stunned by the gesture, and heavily appreciative. Till today the house still stands as an embodiment of the strength that the two held together in their relationship.
He strode along the sidewalk, whistling as he went. Upon arriving at the front door, he withdrew a copy of the key from his pocket and stuck it into the keyhole.
Or at least, he tried to.
Frowning, Cody knelt down as he analyzed the key and the lock. The sinking feeling in his heart, one that he had felt earlier at the laboratory, crept into him as he realized that the key was an entirely wrong shape to fit into the lock even a little.
Shaking, Cody knocked on the door, praying that his parents had just changed the locks and forgotten to tell him.
He waited.
As the door finally opened, Cody's heart vanished into an abyss when his worst fears were realized.
The woman standing in front of him was foreign.
"Hi! May I help you?"
Her cheerful demeanor did nothing to ease his rapidly throbbing heart.
"Er, hi…" Cody gulped. "I'm looking for…Carey."
"Carey?" The woman frowned. "I'm sorry, there isn't any Carey living here. You might have gotten the wrong address."
His mind still grasping for straws, Cody blurted out the last desperate possibility that his brain could conjure up.
"Did you know…the previous owners of the house?"
"I'm sorry, young man." The woman smiled. "I know the previous owner of the house, but her name wasn't Carey. I'm sorry I can't help."
"…that's alright. Thank you…for your time."
"No problem at all. I hope you find her, whoever she is. Do you want to come in for some food?"
"No…no, that's…that's quite alright. Thank you."
"Alright then. A very merry Christmas to you!"
Cody's ears hardly took in the sound of the friendly woman's final greeting, nor the sound of the door closely gently behind him. With heavy footsteps, he trod slowly back to his car.
Mom and Dad don't live here anymore. No…they never did. I never…got it for them.
There was only one reasonable explanation, as unreasonable as its premise was. The events of the night seemed to join back eerily as Cody recalled a certain phrase uttered by a stranger before he had found himself lying on the bridge overlooking the Charles River.
"You wish you haven't been born! So you haven't!"
Cody stopped upon reaching his black Volvo. Instead of getting into the car, he turned back around and looked at the house that was meant to be his parents', feeling more emotional than ever. A thin blanket of snow had covered the roof, with a similar layer of white resting snugly on the lawn. A cold wind whooshed through the air, causing a chill to run down Cody's spine, his jacket not working as it should.
He had never felt more lost.
Though Cody was already resigned to the fact that he didn't exist, something deep within him stirred endlessly, forcing him to proceed to attempt and tie up ends to the mystery.
What would have happened if he hadn't been around?
Cody didn't know, but he desperately wanted to find out.
It hadn't taken long for Cody to postulate the location where his mother should still be living, namely her last address before the house that he had just visited, if he should have been around to buy it for her and his father.
The Boston Tipton.
The stunning hotel-skyscraper still looked as regal as ever as Cody's car neared the heart of Boston, the building standing out amongst others due to its unique structure and the many Christmas lights that now adorned it. Arriving at the place under the assumption that his mother had not moved from the Tipton and was still its songstress, Cody prayed he was right as he entered the familiar elevator with the dirty brown case in his hand.
Cody was an intelligent person. Thanks to the stranger's words and the events of the night, he could deduce what the case was for.
The elevator dinged. He had reached the 23rd floor.
Heart throbbing uncomfortably in his throat, Cody stepped out of the elevator and walked towards his childhood home, feeling an incredible sense of simultaneous sadness and nostalgia.
Once again praying that he was right, Cody knocked firmly on the door, praying that a familiar face would emerge.
For once that night, he wasn't disappointed.
"May I help you?"
Cody resisted the urge to burst out "Mommy!" and instead tried his best to keep his emotions in check upon seeing his mother emerge from the innards of Suite 2330. Swallowing the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth, Cody tightened his grip on the case and smiled, prepared to recite the script that he had mentally written during the drive to the Boston Tipton.
"Good evening, madam. I'm from...World Juicery. On behalf of-"
Cody was then cut off by a call from within the suite.
"Who's that, sweetie?"
Cody's eyes lit up at the familiar voice, somewhat glad to see that even if he had not be present, his parents would have still gotten back together. He wondered why Carey did not identify him as Zack upon seeing him at the door, however Cody quickly realized that Zack and himself had grown gradually apart in terms of looks as they aged.
Carey turned around and replied to the question.
"It's a salesman, Kurt!" Turning back to Cody, Carey smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that. You were saying?"
"On behalf of our corporate sponsor, Tipton Industries, we're giving away free juice to the employees of this hotel as a Christmas gift to celebrate the festive season."
Sticking his hand into the case, he withdrew a random flavor, pomegranate, from within, and held it out to his mother.
"Why, that's…incredibly nice." Carey smiled. She took the juice from his hands and stared at the bottle. "Would you like to come in for a while?"
Slightly hesitant, Cody pushed down his fear of discovering more than he wanted to and nodded.
"That would be very nice."
As he was entering the suite, Kurt walked out from within the suite bedroom.
"Kurt, this man from World Juicery brought us free juice! Isn't that nice?"
"It really is." Kurt beamed. "Thank you very much, young man."
"You're very welcome."
As Cody slid off his jacket, he turned his head to the side and saw an object on top of the television that he had seen many times in the past, its location almost permanently fixed to the roof of the visual device. The mahogany picture frame was slightly dusty, but the photograph within it remained clear. What took Cody aback slightly was the fact that one person seemed to be missing from the photograph.
In the photograph was a twelve-year old Zackary Martin, dressed in swimming trunks, looking vividly enthusiastic at being at the beach, the photograph's backdrop exposing the location where the picture was taken. In a world where Cody had existed, the photograph would have contained one additional person, a doppelganger of the child already present, standing beside him with an arm around Zack's shoulder.
Cody picked up the picture frame and dusted it off with his hands. Absentmindedly tracing Zack's face with his finger, he spoke.
"Is this your son?"
The atmosphere of the room seemed to freeze over somewhat as both Carey and Kurt turned around, their bodies tensing up as they heard Cody's question.
"I think I've met him before. His name's Zack…isn't it?"
Suddenly, Cody's attention was drawn away from the picture towards a sobbing noise that came from behind him. Turning around, he was stunned to see his mother burying her face into his father's chest, his father hugging her in comfort. When Kurt spoke, his tone was hard.
"You couldn't have met him."
Cody merely stared.
"He died the day the picture was taken."
Cody's eyes widened upon hearing his father's words, his heartbeat momentarily pausing and his lungs tensing up as he tried to comprehend the meaning behind Kurt's words. Almost mockingly his brain quickly retraced its steps deep into his memory bank to pull out the childhood memory of that day. Zack had gotten a leg cramp and was struggling to stay afloat. Cody, though not as strong a swimmer as Zack was, had swam to his brother and pulled him out of the sea before anything could have happened. After the incident he had not thought anything about it, but what if Cody hadn't been there?
Feeling profoundly more morose than before, Cody sat the picture gently back on the television and turned around, picking up his coat from the back of the chair.
"I'm terribly sorry." Cody said, with his face reflecting his forlorn state of mind. "I think I should be leaving now. I wish you both a very Merry Christmas."
Cody then nearly put his foot in his mouth again, upon realizing that he was wishing them a Merry Christmas when they were thinking about their dead son. Quietly, he opened the door and crept out, not wanting to see the looks on his parents faces more than he had to.
Despite his already deflated mood upon the confirmation of his "death" and that of his brother, there was one last loose end in his mind that Cody had to tie up, regardless of how pained he anticipated himself to feel after this visit. It had taken about half an hour for Cody to arrive at the house, but upon reaching his destination he felt a deep sense of warmth, greater than he had felt in the presence of the small home before, than he had ever felt.
He was back.
The house's loyal and trusty soldier however didn't exactly welcome him like he had hoped. The dog flailed rapidly from side to side as it tried to escape the chain around its neck tying it down to the doghouse, desperately trying to stop the stranger from approaching the home.
"Calm down, Buster, it's me!"
Buster didn't understand what the stranger said, nor did he care, absolutely content at barking loudly and snapping at his ankles. Realizing that convincing the dog that he was no threat wouldn't lead to any good result, Cody simply proceeded along the path to the house, the brown case held firmly in his hands.
In some sense, he was most nervous about this visit.
He knocked twice on the door.
It opened, and a pair of hesitant but familiar eyes met his own. Cody had to restrain himself from hugging the person standing in front of him.
"Hello, mister. How may I help you?"
Cody found himself at a momentary loss for words, and it took him a few seconds to recover from his period of flabbergast.
"Erm, hi. I'm from World Juicery. I'm here today to present to you a few bottles of juice, absolutely free."
Bailey's face brightened up.
"Oh, is that so? That's so nice! Do come in!"
As he entered his shared home with Bailey, Cody handed her a bottle of pomegranate juice, which she accepted gratefully.
"This is pretty pricey in the supermarkets. Are you sure you're giving this to us free?"
"Yes, madam." Cody said solemnly, still trying not to startle her by alerting her of who he was. "It's one way our company keeps down excessive profits…share them with friends."
"That's very nice of you." Bailey read the nutrition label as they both sat on the couch. Cody couldn't help but analyze the familiar contours of his wife's face. She looked the same as he had last remembered, the defining difference being the fact that age had seemed to have taken a greater toll on her due to his absence in her life, her complexion marred slightly by the presence of additional wrinkles.
Cody gulped.
A second before Cody had mustered up enough courage to try to explain to Bailey what had happened to him, the front door was violently pushed open, and a tall man stumbled haphazardly into the living room. Almost immediately, Bailey leapt to her feet and eyed the man cautiously.
"Damn…he's back. You shouldn't be here."
Cody stood up as well.
"I'm sorry?"
"Where the hell is my beer?"
The man's words were slurred, indicating to Cody that he had already been drinking before.
"It's in the fridge, Moose." Bailey spoke back with an icy tone that Cody had never heard from her mouth. "Don't you think you've already had enough to drink?"
"Rubbish, woman. I can never have enough beer." The man stopped his clumsy bumbling to the kitchen and turned around, as though suddenly realizing the presence of another person in the room. Upon seeing Cody standing next to Bailey with a disgusted look on his face, he raised a threatening index finger, albeit with some difficulty.
"Who's that?" The man shouted. "Have you been cheatin' on me?"
"Can you hear the utter rubbish you're spewing from your mouth, you damned drunkard?" Bailey spat out with equal vehemence. "He's a salesman, he came over to give us some complimentary juice-"
"We don't need any juice." The drunkard cut Bailey off mid-sentence. "Unless he's got beer, then he can just leave it on the damned table and get the hell out of our house. We don't need any snotty salespeople stinkin' up this damned house either."
Apparently satisfied with insulting Cody, Moose muttered a few choice swear words under his breath as he stumbled into the kitchen to pick up his chilled beer.
Bailey turned to Cody with an apologetic expression on her face.
"I'm terribly sorry you had to hear that." The wrinkled on her face looked more defined than ever. "Perhaps now isn't the best time."
"I…I understand." Cody swallowed down the ball of concentrated disgust welling up in his throat and forced a smile on his face. "Thank you very much for your time. I hope you enjoy the juice."
Before Bailey could anything more, the two adults were cut off by loud screaming from within one of the rooms of the house, which gradually grew louder as its source approached the living room. A young boy of no more than nine popped into the room, in his hand a tiny toy gun, still screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Joshua! Be quiet!"
Joshua turned to his mother and looked at her with an expression of haughtiness.
"You don't tell me what to do!"
"Young man, you listen to me now-"
Joshua ignored Bailey's scolding as he turned to face the stranger standing in the living room.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? Are you here to duel with me?" Upon speaking his words with childish arrogance, the boy raised his toy pistol and made fake firing noises, apparently waiting for Cody to fall.
"Bang! Bang, bang!" Joshua screwed up his eyes in frustration. "Why aren't you dead? I just shot you! You're dead!"
Joshua fired a few more fake shots.
"You're dead! You're dead! You're dead!"
Amidst the chaos that was unfolding in the house, Cody's mind focused in onto the child's words, their underlying meaning scaring him beyond his wits as he realized what a huge mistake he had made earlier that night.
You're dead.
A mistake. A stupid mistake, one that had resulted in so much chaos, so much agony. All this happened, because of him. Because of Cody.
Because he had died.
Because he had never been born.
There was a smashing sound from the kitchen as Moose, frustrated at the emptying of yet another bear bottle, threw it violently against the wall, shattering it into a million tiny fragments of glass.
It was with unforeseen desperation that Cody had quickly left the house and driven back to his first location from earlier that night, when he had first found himself lying on the ground with the dirty case sitting next to him. He ran across the bridge that overlooked the Charles River, searching in desperation for the man that might just be able to put him out of his misery.
The bridge was deserted. It was nearly midnight.
As the seconds ticked away, Cody felt himself falling into an abyss of desperation, now convinced of the fact that he would remain unborn, forever.
Just when he was about to give up his futile search, a man with dirty clothes, a long grey beard and a face covered with wrinkles that spoke of age and silent wisdom, appeared in front of him, smiling.
"You!" Cody stepped up to the old man and grabbed a fistful of his jacket. "You…you did this! How dare you!"
"Hey, hey, calm down, young fellow!" The old man shook off Cody's hands and dusted off his jacket. "You're the one that said you didn't want to be born!"
"Well, I didn't mean it at first!"
"In any case, you got you wish, didn't you?" The old man grinned. "You were never born!"
"Please, I'm begging you." Cody shook the man's arm with desperation, almost willing to throw himself at the man's feet. "Everything's messed up. Everything's messed up because I wasn't around. I swear to God, please. Set things back the way they were before!"
"I'm not sure…"
"I'm begging you! I was wrong for wanting to take my own life, I was wrong for saying that I shouldn't have been born! I was selfish! But I've learnt from my mistake now, so please!"
The man was silent for a few moments, the sound of the cool breeze flooding Cody's ears. The silence, the wait for the man's decision, was deafening.
Finally, the old man spoke again.
"You still have a lot to learn, Cody Martin."
Cody bit on his tongue in desperation.
"Try and listen better, Cody. Try. Close your eyes."
Cody did as he was told.
"Have you closed your eyes? Good, you have." The man was now speaking in a whisper, such that Cody had to strain his ears to catch what he was saying. "Now, I want you to listen for the bells. It's almost Christmas now, isn't it? Listen for the bells. Listen…"
Upon the sound his words, the sound of nearby church bells resonated clearly through the air, the melody created by the brass ringing beautifully throughout the area.
It was midnight.
It was Christmas.
Cody opened his eyes after a few long minutes of waiting only to realize that he was standing alone on the bridge.
He stood there, not daring to move. Was he back in the land of the living?
A vibrating from within his pocket shook him out of his reverie. Extracting the mobile phone from his pocket, he read the message that had just been received.
From: Dr Parker
Hi, Cody! Here's wishing you a very Merry Christmas! Get out of the lab more, k? You need to learn to take a break once in a while!
Cody felt a wide grin starting to take shape on his face, as he heart nearly exploded from within his chest cavity.
After taking an hour to drive at top speed to his parent's house, hugging everyone till they could no longer breathe (forcing Zack to conclude, somewhat lightheartedly, that he had gone crazy), Cody had kissed everyone on the cheek (reserving a very Merry Bro-fist for Zack) and left the house, feeling more exuberant that he had ever felt in his life.
He was alive. How glorious it was to be living!
Upon arriving back at his own home, Cody had given Buster a few affectionate pats, and was reciprocated with a few enthusiastic licks on his face. Dashing to the front door, Cody opened the door so rapidly that Bailey, who was sitting on the couch waiting for him to return, was startled.
"Cody! You scared-"
Bailey never got to finish her sentence, as Cody lifted her off her feet and spun her a few times around the living room in an impromptu dance routine, the couple twirling around as though they were still children.
After the spontaneous dance had been completed, Bailey plopped back down on the couch.
"Really, Cody, what has gotten into you!"
"Bailey, you won't believe what happened to me today." Cody sat down next to his wife, pleased by the observable absence of stress wrinkles on her face. "It's unbelievable! I wasn't born for a few hours!"
Bailey stared at him as though he were crazy.
"What are you talking about!"
"It's true! I was just-"
Cody stopped short as his fingers brushed over an object sitting behind him on the couch. His heart leapt to his throat as fingered the object, distinctly feeling a cap on its top, its body hard and textured, like plastic. Even without picking it up and looking at it, Cody already knew that it was a bottle.
A bottle that contained within itself a concoction of fresh pomegranate juice.
Author's Note – The story was very heavily inspired and based off a wonderful short story I've read, "The Greatest Gift", written by Philip Van Doren Stern, a fantastic author. You all should definitely check his work out.
My very first oneshot! I hope you all enjoyed it. To my loyal readers, I apologise for not updating Messiah for quite a while now…I understand it had been a few weeks, but at this point of time I'm so overloaded with work that I can't actually sustain a sufficient amount of mental capacity to continue a story as taxing as Messiah. Hopefully I'll be able to return to it in the future.
Reviews appreciated.
~SUITELIFEFAN