Poor bloke, stark raving bonkers, of course
One part of me suspected it all along. Incidentally, I happened to notice that between the knuckles and the joint of his middle finger-bone a gold ring holding inlaid ruby and bearing the letter "H" loosely sat. Having a strong sense of occasion, I was overcome though undaunted.
”Sir...er...it was very foolish of me running away from you like that and falling into the river."
"Perhaps, but then your behavior was quite typical of your kind. Those who run away from me quite often precipitate their untimely deaths. Besides, if I'm really intent on catching someone, any attempt to escape will not avail.
"Would it be proper to ask if... "
"I derive any pleasure from hunting mortals? No, I even feel a certain affection for you. I like people to face up to me, to look me in the face, so to speak. I like to be treated as an equal, that's all. There's no need for superstitious dread, that kind of thing. That's silly. I just expect to receive the respect that attaches to my office. But there's one thing I can't put up with, though; that's when folks snub me as though I didn't count or even exist. Take a case just the other day—One of my detractors was walking down the street with his nose in the air, as usual. I must confess to feeling a tinge of satisfaction, hardly schadenfreude, when the mandate was given to settle up accounts. I saw to it that a manhole cover was removed just at the right--or wrong--moment."
"You need a mandate?"
"Of course. I'm in the executive rather than the legislative branch, you know. People go to extremes. Either I don't exist or I'm God! No, I can't always be certain until the last moment whether to go through with a job, whether my services will be required."
"I don't quite follow."
"Don't worry, you will sooner or later. Now take yourself as an example. You remember the flight to Boston, don't you? Rather bumpy, wouldn't you say?"
"I most certainly would! Hey, you..."
"Thought your moment had come, eh?"
"To be honest, I really thought it had."
"This may surprise you. I wasn't too sure, either--or rather I mistakenly concluded that the plane would disintegrate and all on board would die. No, one can never be too sure about these things. It's only a hunch, but your prayer with its mention of Hezekiah may well have had something to do with it. Honest! God is always open to suggestions. Remember the story of Jonah? I sometimes even get a mandate to save people from themselves. You know the story about Clive of India?"
"You mean, everything has its appointed term?"
"You could put it like that. But why ask me? You've read the Book of revelation,I suppose.
"You mean the part where it says: 'Vanity of Vanity, saith the preacher, 'all is vanity.' Rather depressing, to say the least.
"Actually you quoted from Ecclesiastes. If you mean sombre, I agree. Men and women must simply come to accept the vanity of life before they can appreciate its true value. That's where I come in. If people took more account of me, they would surely take life and its unique opportunities that much more serious1y. Some, of course, go to the other extreme and fall in love with me. It can't be my looks that does it. In any case, I'm not what you'd describe as an ideal partner, the marrying kind, whatever. I'm too career-minded for that, and when would I be at home? No, seriously, I'll be along soon enough. People should be getting on with the business of living. Then there are those who describe me as the enemy of mankind. It depends how you want to look at things. It's men who design atom bombs, not the likes of me. If they're looking for the enemy of mankind, it's not me they're after, it's the Thief."
"The Thief?"
"Yes, the Thief of Time, man's most precious commodity, and the one that's most often squandered. If you have time, you'll get your chances to make money, if it's money you're after. Having money doesn't always give you time, not even a second. Take it how you will. Some millionaires I've known would have given up all their substance just for another day. Of course they would. If they couldn't tell a bargain when they saw one, they wouldn't have become millionaires. not even all the funds of the IMF can redeem a lost hour."
"Funny, I'm sure I've heard someone say something like that before. Yes, it was during one of those five-minute religious slots at breakfast-time, I think."
"Quite possibly. There's little that I can tell you that you couldn't work out for yourself if you reflect a little and take time to study the three books...
"The what? The Three Books, did you say? Which books?"
"First the Book of Divine Revelation--the Bible, for short, without making allowances for such variations as the Koran. Then the Book of Nature. Thirdly, the Book of History."
"I get your meaning as far as the first two books were concerned--more or less - but I'm not quite sure about this 'Book of History.' That's new."
"In geometry a line is defined by two points, from the beginning-point and the endpoint. A lifetime runs between birth and death. Cities, nations, even stars and planets exist in the space between two points."
"That's all very abstract, if you'll allow me to say. I never took History at school. I was put off by learning all those dates. History must be interesting, though, once you get into it. A funny feeling came over me when I was in Ford's Theatre. Somehow, it all came alive--History I mean. By the way, was it...?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it was. You must forgive me chuckling like that. I had no intention of scaring anybody or seeming superior. It's just that my sense of humor sometimes gets the better of me, especially when people glibly explaineverything away in terms of statistics. They get so emphatic and pompousabout it, too. They don't seem to realize that their talk about 'luck,' 'chance' and 'coincidence' quite honestly adds up to a confession of ignorance, when you think about it.
"And it was you the time..."
"Quite in the line of duty, I assure you. I can always be found rubbing shoulders with the crowd, if you really look. People don't usually notice I'm about. On the whole a good thing, I suppose. Far be it from me to distract people from attending to their daily affairs. Life must go on."
"Talking of history, were the deaths of Kennedy and Lincoln related in some
way?"
"As a matter of policy I steer clear of discussing matters in any way connectedwith politics, but I don't wish to dodge the question entirely. Why not? Everything is, ultimately. Read what history has indelibly written for all those with eyes to see. Take the years 1066 and l660."
"Er--the Norman Conquest and the Restoration of Charles II? Yes. But I don't quite see the connection. Was it got something to do with the fact that England has never been successfully invaded since 1066?"
"Partly. You will agree that it is from the year 1066 that we number the kings and queens of England. For example, we do not refer to Edward the Confessor as Edward I."
"Yes, as you say, we number--he came before 1066. I get your point, but, with all respect, does that matter?"
"What was restored in 1660?"
"The monarchy, I suppose."
"And who had overthrown the monarchy, temporarily at least?"
"Oliver Cromwell."
"How long for?"
"England was without a kin8 from 1649 until 1660."
"Which is 1066--somewhat rearranged. No, Cromwell interrupted the line of monarchs founded by the Conqueror, but he did not succeed in terminating it. Even so, he did point forward to a new era. Like Julius Caesar he was wise enough to repudiate the kingly crown. Perhaps he had set his eyes on a yet greater object. Kings might bow to Caesar, but never Caesar to a king."
"But that was two thousand years ago!"
"Two thousand years! What's that? True, a long time for mortals. You see, the same point that marks an end also marks a beginning. Underlying all things is continuity. Why is the past relevant if it can never be recalled? Only because it is part of a continuous totality to which the present belongs. Let me be precise. When did the Roman Empire end? When Ravenna became the capital of the Western Empire? Or with the demise of Romulus Augustulus? With the fall of Constantinople? Has it ever come to an end? Did not the Czars claim their title
from the Byzantine emperors? As far as Cromwell was concerned, we see in him the beginning of a new line, a new page perhaps~--but not of a new book. He was the first Caesar of the Latter Age, an age whose imminent end will bring with it at least the close of a chapter. Cromwell was born in 1599. "
"Why is that so significant? If he was going to be born, it had to be in some year, didn't it?"
"Wait! Napoleon and Wellington were born in 1769, within three months of each other. "
"If I follow your meaning, these Caesars of the latter age as you call them, tend to get born in a year ending with a '9.' What about Hitler?"
"1889."
"Stalin?"
"1879. "
"Are all these Caesars dictators?" I asked, pointing at the Lincoln Memorial.
"By no means. 1809."
Having read up on the life of Washington catch him out.
"What about Washington, then?" I asked in the hpe of catching him out this time.
"Born in 1732 on the 22nd of February."*(Death seems to be suffering from a slip of memory here. The actual date was the 17th or February 1712 - editoral incerpt Catchpole)
"That would be an exception to the rule then, would it?"
"Don't forget that a line has an end as well as a beginning. Washington died in 1799, the year before this city bearing his name was founded. There will always be exceptions, of course. Take Franco. You yourself said they tend to be born in years ending in '9.' It's a theory, after all. Don't forget I've been around for so much longer than any of your historians, and things tend to leave an impression on the mind. Your grandfather may have seen Halley's comet when it appeared in 1910. I can remember it in 1066 and long before."
"I can't pass off these things as 'coincidence' any more, but I still find it hard to lump Lincoln1n and Napoleon together under the heading of 'Caesar.'"
"I find no particular difficu1ty myself, but then, consider me. Am I not the merciless tyrant that some would have me be--and the great leveler, the ultimate democrat, the impartial judge of all, no matter their social rating? Who hut I preaches so eloquently the brotherhood of man, if men had ears to hear? Is there freedom without death? Excuse my going on like this. I am so terribly misunderstood. If I don't put in a good word for myself, who else will? How would you like chasing around--like this?" he said as he rattled his hones more in sorrow than anger.
"I've got tales to tell, though," he continued. "I'll never forget the night Napoleon and I met face to face."
"On the Isle of St. Helena?" I inquired.
"St. Helena? Goodness no!"
"At Waterloo then?"
"Hardly."
"There's only Moscow left."
"Aye, at Moscow! He was looking through a window at the embers of Moscow. Suddenly the panes frosted over. He looked round. A brave man, Napoleon. He didn't flinch when he saw my face."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing. What could he? We both nodded in a kind of mutual recognition then he turned to the window. He looked sad but not frightened.'
"Why do you think that was?"
"People are frightened when they fear for their own physical welfare. As I said, Napoleon was a brave man. No, he understood the political and strategic significance of our encounter. He perceived what the frost on the window pane and the ashes of Moscow meant for his political ambitions.
"So it's all - err - - programmed?"
"You could put it like that. Though hardly a poet myself, I've done my share of inspiring poets to write. Only God and Love share the same class. I would couch what you are trying to say in more poetic terms. For everything there is a season, a time to be born, and a time to die. I'm not very original, I'm afraid, but I can make a pertinent quotation. That’s from Ecclesiastes too, by the way: Much as I would like to continue chatting like this, boy, duty calls.
"I very much appreciate your giving up so much of your valuable time to this-- er--interview. There's so much else I would have liked to ask you about dates and numbers."
"Indeed, much instruction lies in numbers, much wisdom in their interpretation, yet one kind of numbering excels all other kinds in importance."
"Which?" I cried.
"Psalm 90, verse 12. Really must be getting along.”
To the click of his finger-bones, he summoned his pale steed. This appeared as a wandering star. It grew in size until it assumed the shape of a horse descending from the night sky. Then it came to rest beside his master. Having mounted his steed, he turned round, allowing me to catch a glimpse of his face. I shall not attempt to describe it. Earlier it would have struck terror into me, that is all I can say. As horse and rider ascended into the starry sky, he turned to me a last time
"Au revoir!" I shouted.
"Au revoir!" he answered, "Auf Wiedersehen! Hasta la vista! See you!"
I required no further proof that he was a master of all living tongues, not to mention a few dead ones, for good measure.
"When?" I asked. The words had no sooner parted from my lips than I realized the folly of my question.
"When the lease expires. You have had one extension, so use well the time that remains. When I return, it won't be for a chat."
The rider and his pale horse rose higher and higher till all I could see of them was a point of light that moved like a roving planet among the stars. Suddenly I felt dizzy. I slumped to the mossy ground and fell into a deep sleep. It had been a very eventful and tiring day.
If my readers expect any further accounts of strange encounters, I must disappoint them. The end of my tale will come as an anticlimax perhaps. When I came round next morning I found myself laid out on a hospital bed. A pretty nurse was at my bedside with a syringe in her hand. When I opened my eyes and looked at her, she said:
"So you are awake at last. You're something of a curiosity around these parts."
A doctor came in and inspected my eyes with an ophthalmoscope.
"You're lucky to be alive," he commented. "When they picked you up, they first took you for dead: You had us fooled. You must have been in some deep trance state, cardiac arrest, you know. Do you do yoga? Anyway, welcome back to life!"
Next day I was asked to write a report of the incidents leading to my being found on the bank of the Potomac. Before my "return to life" the police were going to treat me as a case of homicide. Even now the file had not been closed.
They had not been able to work out how my clothes were drenched through though my wallet remained dry. My report was quite candid, making reference to an unnamed person wearing a hood and clerical habit. Alluding to his skeletal appearance, I referred to "the signs of severe malnutrition" he evinced, "his skinny, even skinless fingers.
Shortly after I had handed in the report, they transferred me to another department of the hospital, where I was placed under the supervision of a team of neurologists and psychologists. I was required to do a number of psychological tests--you know, with ink blotches and that kind of thing. I had to repeat my account of what I had experienced in and around the Potomac. They would buy the dream but not the conversation with Death. That bore "the traits of a conscious effort of allegorization." Then the tests were discontinued and I was left "to rest" for a few days.
Eventually a young doctor from London entered the room. He gave every impression of wanting to help a fellow-Brit in trouble. I seized on this heaven-sent opportunity. I told him everything. He paid close attention to every word I said., Now and again he made a nod or other gesture of sympathy. He asked intelligent questions. A great burden was lifted when he expressed his belief that modern science could not explain everything and added that even the Russians were taking a close interest in parapsychology and telepathy. He gave me an injection, saying it would help me to feel better. I became very drowsy afterwards. It was not only the drug that gave me a wonderful feeling of well-being. The consciousness that at least a compatriot had given me a fair hearing greatly contributed to my sense of euphoria. I could hear them talking about me. They must have assumed that I was asleep. I can distinctly remember his words to the nurse:
"Poor chap! Stark raving bonkers, of course!"
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