Chapter 53
The pain was gone. I found myself sitting on a bar stool at the counter of the Pico Mundo Grille. The sun was shining outside and not a single person was around me. I reached down to the wound in my stomach, but found only my white t-shirt, as clean and blood-free as the day it came out of the package. The front door was open, into which a cool, pleasant breeze was blowing.
With unwavering certainty I knew I was dead. Unsurprisingly, I wasn't scared. I knew this day would come. It's amazing I survived as long as I did.
I looked at the clock on the wall, which usually ticked away the seconds, minutes, and hours while I sweat over a hot griddle, now stood frozen, uninterested in marking the passage of time. The lights that usually flashed in the jukebox remained unilluminated. The grease in the fryer, in which I once cooked an abundance of french fries and chicken fingers, stood as placid as an afternoon lake on a windless, summer day. The only thing that moved, other than me, was the little bell on the open front door, jingling in the modest breeze. It seemed to be beckoning me outside, toward the bright light of a beautiful afternoon day.
I was now in that place where so many who have visited me found themselves. I needed to make a decision. I knew I couldn't stay here for long and, somehow instinctively, I knew my choices. I could walk to the door, outside to somewhere beautiful which I knew was inhabited by my Stormy. Or, I could walk into the kitchen, back to work where I was desperately needed. Chief Porter needed to find the cultist with the stainless steel canister before he was able to rig it up to another air compressor and release the virus. Even if the Chief was able to decipher my dying words, I doubted he could do anything useful with the information before it was too late. There were thousands of people along the midway, and dozens of places into which the cultist could have retreated to continue the task of infecting the citizens of Pico Mundo.
The Gypsy Mummy told Stormy and me that we were destined to be together forever. Just recently I asked her when that prophesy would be fulfilled. She imparted four blank cards for the four times I repeated my question. At the time I thought it meant that she didn't intend to keep her original promise or that the time I needed to wait was so small that it wasn't worth commenting on, but I now knew the truth: the cards were blank because it was entirely up to me. I could walk out that door and see Stormy, hold her in my arms and squeeze her. Or, I could go back and attempt to help Chief Porter thwart the cultists, thereby delaying my reunion with my soulmate and love of my life.
I knew now that the dark shapes I saw before I died were bodachs, swarming to relish in either my death or the unfathomable evil the cultists were attempting to release upon the world. I couldn't be sure which it was.
I looked longingly toward the door. Then, I turned my head and looked hesitantly toward the kitchen. With trepidation, I stood up and walked into the kitchen. I had unfinished business.