Al Steiner: Doing It All Over

I shook my head in denial, in fear. Twenty minutes? Would I never see Laura or Jason or Megan again? Would I only see Nina as an enemy, not as a woman I loved, that I knew intimately? It couldn't happen, I couldn't accept it!

"But there is a solution," Mr. Li said softly.

"What is it?" I asked.

"The gift," he said. "I still have it. I can still pass it on to you."

I looked at him, not comprehending on the surface, but catching his meaning somewhat lower in my psyche. "But in order for you to pass on the gift, you have to…"

"Die," He nodded. "I'm going to be dead in twenty minutes anyway, one way or the other, no matter what happens. I cannot tell you what to wish for Bill, you have to decide for yourself, but there is a wish that you can make that will break the paradox. I've struggled over the years trying to decide if your family, which will be based upon your moral code, is worthy of having the gift transferred to or if I should simply let it die with me." He shrugged, "I don't know if I made the right decision or not but I like you Bill. I know you better than I've ever known anyone before, even my wife when she was alive. I think you deserve the chance. I will give you the gift tonight, right now and I want you to promise me that you will use it as it is intended, that you will follow the tradition, that you will teach your descendants the responsibility. Will you do that?"

"Mr. Li," I started, my body charged up. Was he talking about suicide? Right here in front of me? For the purpose of breaking the paradox? Was that really what he was talking about?

"Will you promise Bill?" He insisted, staring at me.

I continued to stare, feeling an incredible mix of emotions surging through me.

"Bill?"

"I promise," I finally said.

He smiled, nodding seriously. He picked up his beer and then took a swig of it. "Do you know what to wish for?" he asked me.

"I think so."

He reached into a pocket in his chair and pulled out a pistol. It was a chrome plated, semi-automatic. Its hammer was back. He looked at it for a moment, his hands trembling.

"Mr. Li," I said, shaking my head. "I can't go through with this. I can't sit here and watch you shoot yourself. I can't."

"Be strong Bill," he said. "It'll be over soon. Don't call anybody afterward. Just go home. The maid will find me tomorrow and start the machinery."

I was crying now, actually crying with fear. How could I sit there and let someone shoot himself? I couldn't.

"You can do this Bill," Mr. Li told me. "Remember, I'm going to be dead in a few minutes anyway. Save your family. Write your existence as it is now into the pages of fate. I've lived a full life. My last few years have been lived with good health and considerable comfort instead of dying and in pain. You've done me a favor. Now it's time for me to do you a favor."

I was trembling, crying, unable to leave, unable to stay. I've never felt so confused in my life as I did at that moment.

"There will be a few moments of clarity right before I die," he said, putting the barrel of the pistol under his chin. The contact kept his hand from shaking. "That goes with the gift. Be sure to take advantage of it Bill. Be sure to ask the right thing."

"I will," I choked, watching paralyzed as he held that gun to his chin. "I will."

The gunshot was flat and undramatic. The ejected shell casing flew across the room and landed with a clink on the fireplace bricks. A small spray of blood shot from the top of his head and his body slumped over to the left, the pistol falling forgotten to the floor at his feet. His eyes remained open, staring at me.

"Jesus," I muttered, watching blood pour from the hole in the top of his head, watching his left pupil begin to dilate. "Oh Jesus."

Mr. Li's dying lips began to move. There was blood in his mouth. Words began to form. They were choked and very liquid but perfectly understandable. "What… is your… greatest wish?" he asked me.

I took a step towards him, keeping my eyes focused on his face. It was difficult to do through the haze of tears. My own mouth opened, "I want everything to continue on as it has been." I told him.

He nodded, more blood pouring out of his mouth. "Excellent." he muttered and then his eyes began to glaze over as awareness left them. He slumped further over and his breathing began to become agonal in nature, very irregular. This went on for nearly five minutes. I kept my eyes upon him the entire time. At last he drew in a breath, let it out, and then didn't pull in the next one. His mouth became still.

At that moment I felt it. The power, the gift, leaving the dying vessel of Mr. Li and entering my body, my soul. I cannot describe exactly what it felt like. The closest thing I can come up with is the sensation of runner's high, the feeling of well being that creeps over you about two or three miles into a run as endorphins are released from glands in your body. A sensation that seems to start at the top and quickly work its way throughout, spreading from place to place, energizing you. That was the closest I could come to the sensation but that does not do it justice. All of a sudden I was empowered, I felt it take up residence in me, felt it nestling in. It was a sensation that I would carry with me always, until that moment when it was time to pass it on.

I stood there looking at Mr. Li, feeling the power in me for an unknown amount of time. Finally the sensation receded, leaving only a small core inside me. I felt like myself physically but at the same time I could feel the power tucked away, just waiting for release.

"Thank you Mr. Li," I finally said to his body. "Thank you for everything."

He had no answer for me. I left his house a few minutes later and climbed onto my Honda. I didn't head for home right away. Instead I took a long drive.

It was after midnight when I finally parked my motorcycle in the garage and carried myself into the house. My mind seemed clearer than it had been, more focused, more in perspective. I was beginning to grasp the depth of the gift I'd been given, the responsibility that went along with it. Just beginning mind you, I had a lot more growing to do, a lot more maturity to acquire.

I tossed my helmet on my workbench and forced my way between the cars and into the house. It was darkened, as you would expect at that time of night, everyone asleep, no one with any idea of how close they'd come to being simply erased or put into an alternate path.

I checked on Laura. She was three and a half years old, her face so much like her mother's. She likes to throw the covers off along with her pajamas as she sleeps. I found her curled in a ball in her room, her little butt sticking up, her thumb tucked into her mouth, her body shivering in the air conditioning. I put the covers back over her knowing it was an exercise in futility. Twenty minutes later they'll be off again.

I checked on Jason who was almost two. He is the opposite of Laura. He has covers piled thickly atop him. He has a collection of Hot Wheel cars that he can never keep confined to one place. I stepped on them in my bare feet as I gazed upon his sleeping form, as I listened to his soft breathing.

A short trip down the hall brought me to Megan's room. She was nine months old, almost ready to begin walking and talking. The first and only child to adapt my facial features. She is an aficionado of stuffed animals and they cover her bed, sometimes making it difficult to find her in there. She is also a poor sleeper, waking at the slightest noise. She hears my entrance into her room. She creaks her brown eyes open and gazes at me sleepily. I kiss her, hug her, tell her everything is okay and she drifts back to sleep.

I went to my own bedroom where Nina was sleeping soundly on her side of our King sized bed. Like Laura, she's not a big fan of either clothing or covers when sleeping. She's dressed only in a pair of panties, her breasts bare, her pillow hugged tightly to her face. In the dim light I could see the stretch marks on her stomach and the single line of scar that marks Megan's entrance into the world via caesarian section. Megan had been in the breach position. I looked at my wife with love, with deep feelings of gratitude towards Mr. Li, who made all of this possible.