The Perfect Costume

            CONTINUATION FROM PREVIOUS WEEK

            The darkness I had fallen into was all-consuming. Time stopped. I was numb all over. Silence reigned. I couldn’t move my arms or legs, and my jaw seemed to be clamped shut tight. After remaining in this state for a substantial amount of time, I was convinced I was dead. I must have misjudged how wide the stream was and smacked my head on a rock. For all I knew, I was simply a collection of thoughts and nothing more. Maybe that’s how death was: only your thoughts survive and even they eventually dissipate over time. Soon I would be nothing more than small bits of energy floating about the universe.

            When I first heard the other voices, I was sure it was just my thoughts mingling with other dead people’s thoughts. I don’t remember what the voices were saying to begin with, but after the incessant interruption of my thoughts, I focused on them. Two things surprised me about the voices: one, they were two distinct voices, not a bunch of random ones that I would have expected in the spirit-thought realm; and two, they were German.

            Now, I’ve seen enough WWII movies to know a little German, and I’m pretty sure the voices were saying something like, “…maybe he’s dead.” “Well, if so, we should eat him.” “I’m not going to eat him, I’m just going to rifle through his pockets and see if he’s got any old collector’s stamps on him.” “Forget the stamps, I’m hoping he has some moon rock dust in his hair…” As the voices continued, pain started to seep into my thoughts, increasing until it was too much. That’s when my jaw unlocked and the most horrible scream I’ve ever heard issued forth from my very throat.

            My shriek drowned out everything around me, and I must admit, I put those howling aspen trees that had frightened me to shame. I certainly freaked the Germans out who had happened upon me, because I could hear them yelling and panicking, trying to figure out what to do. Then everything went black again, thank goodness.

            When I came to again, I felt pain, but it was subdued. I could hear a beeping noise and there was a thin blanket covering my body. Eventually I opened my eyes and saw mostly white. Once again I wondered if I were dead. It didn’t take as long for the voices to start up, though: “His eyes are open.” “Oh, good! How do you feel?” “There you are. You took quite a spill, didn’t you?” After hearing them, I knew I was among family and friends, and most likely wasn’t dead.

            Over the next few days, as I lay in a hospital bed, I was slowly able to recall to others the events that led to the present moment. Many of my visitors seemed to have difficulty believing most of my explanation of how I wound up smacking my head. They all seemed incredulous when I detailed the howling trees and the mysterious apparition. The only proof I had from the whole experience was the injury on my scalp. Fortunately for me, Halloween is just around the corner, and the stitches keeping my head together provide me with the perfect gruesome costume. No makeup necessary.

            Moral of this part of the story: Life is a game of chance. Sometimes you get lucky. Oh, and not all Germans are bad.

            This story and the previous three were all inspired by mostly true events. Happy Halloween!