State Of Unknowing

It had been a fantastic party. The booze was flowing, the music was great and I was about to make my move on a dark-haired girl who had been smiling at me.
Then everything went black.
The music stopped, the drink in my hand disappeared and there was no one to be seen. Suddenly a towering figure in a full-length robe emerged in front of me. There was no face that I could see but two red orbs like burning coals stared out from inside the hood.
A skeletal hand was clutching a scythe as tall as he was.
“I AM DEATH,” boomed a voice.
I can’t remember how much I’d had to drink but I sobered up in an instant. It took a lot of willpower not to wet myself.
“I AM DEATH,” he roared again.
“What.. er..what do you want from me?” I stammered. “I…er… can’t be dead. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“You, Arthur Barrington!” A bony finger poked out of the sleeve right into my face. “The time you have been allotted is at an end. You will follow me and I shall escort you from this vale of tears.”
“Where to? I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay here. I… er, wait, hang on a second. What did you call me?”
“I called you by your name, Arthur Barrington! Your seventy three years on this earthly plane are at an end. I command you to come with me now!”
“Wait a minute,” I protested. “That’s not my name.”
“What?”
Blimey, this bloke was tetchy.
“It’s not my name. Well, it is and it isn’t. You called me Arthur Barrington but I’m Barrington Arthur. My surname is Arthur and my first name is Barrington, although everyone calls me Barry.”
There was a pause.
“Oh bugger,” he muttered.
“You also said I was seventy three years old. I’m thirty seven.”
“Are you sure?” said Death raising his voice again.
“Of course I’m sure! Do I look seventy three?”
The hooded figure leaned in for a closer look.
“Not really, but it’s a bit dark in here.”
“Look, can you just talk normally instead of sounding all melodramatic, like some ham actor.”
He raised the scythe in the air with his bony hand and brought down the shaft with a deafening bang. I covered my ears. My body shook.
“I am Death!” he thundered. “I have been the most terrifying image in human culture for centuries. I can hardly turn up sounding like David Beckham.”
“Okay, fair enough. But could you just knock the volume down a bit? Look, it’s obvious that you’ve got the wrong bloke. Close, but still completely wrong. So could you just send me back to the party? You see, there was a dark-haired girl I liked the look of and I…
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was my turn to shout.
“You’re dead. Sorry.”
“Dead? How can I be dead when I’m talking to you?”
“I’m afraid that just by looking at me brings about your demise.”
“You can’t do this to me. You are the one who messed it up.” I jabbed my finger at him. “You’ve got the wrong man and you know it.”
“I’ve said I’m sorry. What more do you want?”
“I want my life back, that’s what. I’m only half way through my three score years and ten. I’m going to Tenerife at the end of the month. And there’s that dark-haired girl at the party. I don’t see why I should be dead when it’s not my fault. This is your mistake and you owe to me to put it right.”
“I suppose so. I’ll see what I can do,” sighed Death. He passed me the scythe. “Here, hold this while I call the office.”
His hand let go of it too early and the blade swung round dangerously. If I hadn’t ducked it would have taken my head off.
“Watch what you’re doing!” I shouted at him. “You nearly killed me a second time.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. The blade’s plastic.”
“Plastic?”
“Yeah. Health and safety.”
From the sleeve of his robe he pulled out a mobile phone and punched in a number, his skeletal fingers clacking on the plastic. He turned away and talked quietly into the phone so I couldn’t hear what was being said.
Suddenly he turned towards me holding the mobile away from him.
“Are we in Newcastle?”
“Yes,” I said. “Newcastle under Lyme.”
“Not Newcastle upon Tyne?”
“No.”
He turned back to the phone. There were mutterings I couldn’t make out before he finally ended the call.
“Let’s see if I’ve got this right,” I said before he could speak. “The grim reaper comes to collect someone but gets the name and the age back to front.”
“Spot on,” sighed Death.
“And you even got the town wrong.”
“Yes.”
“You should have got yourself a sat nav,” I said, hoping he would understand the up-to-date references in my sarcasm.
“Yeah, you’re right. We used to have them but budget cuts have put a stop to that.”
“Budget cuts?”
“Yes, they’re downsizing all the time. I used to cover just the south east of England. Now it’s the whole of England and Wales. I’m not that familiar with the north.”
“What do you mean by downsizing?”
Death shrugged his shoulders.
“There’s not the demand for this anymore. So we have had to cut back over the past fifty years or so.”
“That’s bonkers,” I said. “People die every day.”
“Not like they used to,” said Death sadly. “Back in the days when you had plague, famine, disease, pestilence, I was rushed off my feet. Then you had your wars, illnesses, disasters, both man-made and natural. It was all go, I can tell you.
“But now you’ve got better lifestyles, lots of good food and the medical advancement means you’re all living too long.”
“I’m not,” I said bitterly. “If it wasn’t for you I’d be at a party chasing after a gorgeous dark-haired girl. Not stuck here with some third-rate grim reaper. Dim reaper, more like.
“Okay, okay. Drop the sarcasm,” said Death. “It’s not as if this happens all the time. No one likes making mistakes.”
I wasn’t going to let him off the hook.
“Most people would forgive a mistake but not one that ends in their premature death,” I said. “Meanwhile, some other bloke is pottering away enjoying life, enjoying years that are mine by rights. What’s going to happen to me and what’s going to happen to him?”
“Who?”
“Arthur Barrington. The bloke you should be talking to.”
“Well, he’s still alive, obviously. But it’ll have to be a rush job to fit him in. It looks like it’s going to be a late one tonight. I bet he’s not at a party running after women.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Death held up his bony hand.
“I’m sorry, Barry – can I call you Barry?”
I nodded.
“I was just trying to cheer you up,” said Death. “I might look terrifying and spend my time snuffing out people’s lives but it doesn’t mean I don’t have a sense of humour. Sometimes we have a bit of a laugh when I take them to the other side. Not all of them. Most of them are screaming and begging forgiveness, or in a catatonic silence.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“But I’ve got some good news for you, Barry. Head office said I’ll be able to put you back. But it won’t be at the exact time you died. It’s the best I can do.”
“That suits me,” I said. “Bring it on.”
“Before you go, mate, I’d just like to apologise for the mistake and the poor service you’ve had today. It’s not the way we like to treat our clients and we pride ourselves on doing a good, professional job. Also, I want to thank you for your patience and understanding. And one day we’ll make this journey together properly. I’ll look forward to it.”
“I won’t. No offence.”
“None taken. I promise I’ll get it right next time. All the best. Bye.”
It went black again. But not for long.
When I came to I was in bed, wrapped in the arms of a dark-haired girl. She kissed me gently on the nose and looked at me in a way that no other woman had done before. I had never seen such love and adoration in anyone’s eyes.
And I felt the same way. My heart swelled with love for this woman. I was overwhelmed. I was about to let her how I felt, to pour everything out, to tell her that no one else had ever made me feel this way.
But a nurse pushed her face right into mine.
“Oh, what a lovely little boy,” she cooed. “Have you got a name for him yet?”
The dark-haired woman never took her eyes off mine.
“I’m thinking of calling him Barry,” she said.
I started to cry.