The Banyan--Tyler Hayes

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EXTENDING THE DATE OF EXPIRATION

           The lowest floor of the morgue is very cold, but Ray is quite comfortable lying between the steel table and the white sheet. He has been waiting patiently for the young employee to come and wheel him away.
      Now, coming from the opposite end of the expansive bunker, is a click, a creak, and a slam. Footsteps slowly become louder and clearer; each being amplified by reverberated echoes. The clapping shoes stop at Ray’s left side.
       Ray glimpses a small shadow passing over the sheet in front of his eyes. The sheet is pulled off his head to expose his face.
      “Boo!” Ray bolts upright causing the sheet to drop, exposing his upper torso. His chest displays “1 Corinthians 15:54” in black paint, resembling a football fanatic rooting for the home team.
      The young man screams like a little girl and stunts backward with his extremities whipping without control. He lands on his back with an echoing dull thump, and, without pause, gets up and takes to his heels toward the door in which he came.
      “I’m sorry!” Ray yells between full-chested laughter. “I couldn’t resist!” * * *      Excerpts from an interview with Ray Barlow featured in Celebrity magazine, issue 395, January 11, 2000:

interviewer: How do you feel about your tremendous explosion into fame? I mean, no one has ever made the leap from being relatively unknown to a world-wide celebrity in such a degree.
He looks as though he was sculpted by Michelangelo. He speaks at a perfect volume, and with a beautiful tone. Before he begins, he runs his hand through his short, wavy, black hair.

Barlow: Yeah, well, it’s really strange. When I came forward to expose myself, my intention was just to experience large media and public attention. All these years I’ve seen these few people with cameras in their faces all the time, and other people wanting a piece of them somehow, and I just thought it would be fun to experience that. Plus I’ve always been in the background just doing my job and doing my own thing, so... I guess I just wanted something new. But I never imagined it could be like this, I mean this is... crazy.

interviewer: Yeah, I can imagine. So, one day you just thought ‘I’m gonna--’

Barlow: [nodding] One day I just thought, ‘today I’m gonna be a celebrity’ [laughs].

interviewer: And it worked!

Barlow: And it worked. Yeah, much more than I anticipated.

interviewer: So you went out there, showed people what you do, got on the news, and before you knew it you made the now infamous appearance on 60 Minutes, introducing yourself as Death and showing millions what the point of your finger can do.

Barlow: Yep. Mike Wallace was cool. He’s a nice guy.

interviewer: And rather old. Like maybe you’ll be paying him a special visit sometime soon...?

Barlow: Oh, no. Sorry, that’s strictly confidential.

* * * interviewer: Why the name Ray Barlow?

Barlow: I dunno, there really isn’t any significance--it just popped into my head and I liked it. It’s just an alias, but it’s cool ‘cause it makes me feel like I’m one of you.

interviewer: So you can feel emotions?

Barlow: Well... very little. I can’t feel the big stuff like love, depression, sadness, joy--

interviewer: But you always seem happy.

Barlow: Yeah, well, see that’s like the absence of feeling... contentment, I guess it would be. But I also don’t feel pain, or fatigue of any sort, or hunger, or thirst, or anger... it’s great. But I do have touch receptors just like you, so I can feel this chair, or your hair.
He reaches out to touch my hair, causing me to fall out of my chair trying to avoid his eerily smooth palms. He finds this very amusing.

Barlow: Oh, it’s a good thing you got out of the way, or you would have been [snaps his fingers] gone [laughs]. Come on, I can touch you! Here, look...
He reaches down and pulls me up. His grip is soft and gentle. And most importantly, I’m not dead.

* * * interviewer: Do you ever get mobbed by girls on the street?

Barlow: Yes, quite a bit actually.

interviewer: And you were never approached by girls before?

Barlow: Nope. No one ever gave me the time of day. You know you humans are quite rude. That’s another reason I love killing you [laughs]. I’m just kiddin’.

interviewer: Gee thanks. So you must be involved with someone now, with all these girls hanging on to you...

Barlow: Well, no. How can I? You’ve got to understand, I’m not human. I’m only visible in human form to blend in, and not be threatening or scary to everyone, especially to the people that are going to die. I didn’t go through puberty, or have a Genital Stage in life, I mean, I’m not even twenty-five. I’m thousands of years old, but I look like I’m twenty-five. So I have no idea what those... feelings are like, nor do I really want to.

interviewer: Okay, since you brought it up, how exactly do you kill people?

Barlow: Well, I don’t really like to call it killing, because I don’t really have a choice in it. It’s like my job, really. But, uh, first a person’s time is up. It’s like an alarm clock. I have millions of little clocks, so to speak, on file up here [he points to his temple]. So... I go to their house, or hospital room or whatever. Knock on the door. The person answers it, and I say...

* * *       “Hello. I’m Death, and it’s time for you to stop living.”
      The woman behind the screen door looked at Ray with wide eyes and a big open smile. “Oh my -- Ray Barlow! Oh my gosh I can’t believe it!” She flung her hands on top of her long, grayish-brown hair, then placed them on her chest and mouth. “I don’t know what to say... What are you doing here?”
      With a caring look into the woman’s eyes, Ray simply said, “I’m sorry Karen, but your time is up.”
      Her smile faded. Her eyes turned to sadness. “Oh... no, I...”
      “It’s okay, Karen.” Her eyes started to leak as he spoke. “May I come in?”
      In a trembling voice with her hand on her mouth she said, “Oh, yes, I’m sorry --” And as she pushed the screen door open, she started weeping. * * * Barlow: They always cry. And I don’t blame them to tell you the truth. If I was a person and someone told me I would never be able to have fun again, I’d spend my time crying and throwing up. So I try to make it easier for them. I sit down and talk with them until they feel at ease. And then I ask them... * * *       “If you could do anything fun right now -- before you go -- what would it be?”
      Karen took a deep breath and stared down at the cup of coffee Ray had made for her. “Gee, I don’t know...” She half smiled.
      “How’s the coffee?”
      “Well... you know you have to use a filter don’t you?”
      “Filter?”
      “It tastes bitter and grainy.”
      He shrugged. “Well, I--”
      “Frankly, it’s the worst coffee I’ve ever had, but I don’t care, I’m gonna die.” Ray sharply turned his head and made a cringed face, insulting himself for a job well done.
      She looked around the house from her kitchen table point of view.
      The nice finish on the oak cabinets...
      The family portrait hanging in the hall...
      The chandelier above the entrance...
      “I’m gonna miss this place.” She sniffed.
      “Naw, it’s just a house.” He shrugged. “If anything you’ll miss your husband and kids.”
      Karen burst into tears.
      “Oh, sorry. Man, I walked into that one didn’t I?” * * * Barlow: Oh yeah, I make them feel very comfortable. Almost... at peace with themselves. * * *       Karen turned hysterical. She stood up waving her arms and yelling, “No! No! I don’t want to die!”
      “Karen, just calm down, everything’s gonna be fine, there’s nothing to worry about.”
      She passed out. Lying on the kitchen floor, she looked as though she had fallen asleep while making a snow angel.
      “Karen?” Ray just stared at her for a moment. “Karen?...” * * * Barlow: And then I grant their request and take them to have their last moment of fun in their lives. The powers that be actually don’t really approve of this, but having fun is my favorite thing in the world. I mean, that’s what I’m about. * * *       “Ready?” Ray asked Karen. They stood spread out from each other in the wine aisle of a supermarket, facing the shelf but looking at each other. Behind them came the cold, thin smell of the dairy section.
      Karen nodded. “Yes. I’m ready.” They both smiled. * * * Barlow: This one lady said for years and years she shopped at her ex-husband’s grocery store and nobody ever acknowledged her. Like she never existed. Nobody spoke to her, looked at her... she was just a useless old lady. So when it was time, she said... * * *       “Now they’ll notice me.” Karen winked at Ray.
      “Okay... push!” With muscles tightening and expanding, they leaned and pushed against the heavy supermarket shelf. It raised about an inch, maybe two. It creaked in protest. They held it there, still pushing, then let it fall back down to rest. A moderately loud boom from heavy steel to supermarket floor.
      “Oh no!” Karen panicked as she saw a dozen bottles of wine plummet to the linoleum. Shattering sounds, pieces of broken glass, and colored liquid painted the floor. They slowly became drenched in the rich fragrance of liquid fruit and alcohol. Karen’s face, full of worry, flashed into one of relief. She had nothing to worry about. Nothing to fear.
      “I guess people aren’t the only things I kill.” Ray smiled at the mess. Karen closed her eyes and let out a bellow of laughter. She grabbed a bottle of Chardonay and threw it on the ground.
      “Yeah, all right!” Ray said nodding, as quick footsteps got louder with every squeak from rubber soles.
      A teenage employee came racing around the corner on Ray’s side, almost tripping on the edge of the shelf.
      “Hey, what -- Ray Barlow! Wow...!”
      “Hi, David,” Ray said.
      The boy just stood there with his arms to his sides, a blank look of confusion, but still smiling. “How do you know my name?”
      Ray became very serious. “Because I’m seeing you tomorrow.”
      The boy’s face became an amalgam of terror as it exhaled incoherent stuttering. Fear. Panic. Nervousness. Anxiety. Nausea.
      Ray gave him a beaming smile. “I’m just kiddin’!”
      Extreme relief. “Don’t do that!” David said, breathing slowly. “Man!”
      “Hey can you give us a hand here?” he asked the boy.
      “Yeah, sure!” David ran up to the shelf to position himself and almost slipped on the wine and glass. Ray moved to the center of the shelf.
      “Ready--oh, sorry. David, this is Karen, Karen, David.” Ray acknowledged both with each hand.
      “Hi.” David lifted an open hand as a little wave.
      “Nice to meet you, David.”
      “Okay, ready?” asked Ray.
      “Yes.”
      “Yep.”
      “Okay, we’re gonna kinda push forward and up. Ready... push!”
      The rebelling creak of the steel shelf mixed with the supermarket muzak version of “Live and Let Die.” The shelf rose slowly, little by little, inch by inch, arcing on its bottom edge... For the second that it balanced, it felt like it weighed no more than a feather. Then the center of gravity took over.
      It fell in slow motion...
      Crashed into the next shelf with a tremendous explosion of a sound...
      The next shelf tipped over and fell...
      Destruction...
      The next shelf fell...
      Chaos...
      The next shelf...
      Canned food everywhere...
      And the final shelf fell into a loud thud as it hit the back of the freezers.
      Karen and David stood there staring with amusement at the junkyard of fresh groceries. What once was aisle four was now a layout of broken cookies, cardboard boxes, and puddles of peanut butter with little islands of glass. Colored liquids, plastic containers, and price tags. Skittles tinkled across the floor. The stinging stench of vinegar and lemon floor cleaners. The aftermath of a daydream come true.
      Ray threw his fists up in the air as if he had just thrown a killer touchdown pass. The other shoppers looked catatonic.
      “That was so awesome!” David said running up on the fallen shelves. Karen ran up and hugged handsome Ray. * * * Barlow: The look on their faces... [pauses, picturing them in his mind] is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen on this earth. I’ve heard that it’s the same face a mother gets when she’s handed her first child. * * *       Karen and Death walked through her front door laughing at his retelling of the recent event.
      “Oh, Ray, thank you so much for this.”
      “You’re welcome.” They stood in silence for a moment in the entrance way under the chandelier. That vinegar-lemon odor became noticeable again from their clothes. “Well, uh... I’m gonna have to give you your stroke now.”
      “Yeah, I know,” she sighed.
      “You okay?”
      “Yes.” She paused. “Yes I am.”
      “Okay, here, let’s do it in the living room.” They took a few steps to their left into the carpeted living room. Ray glanced around. “Nice.”
      Karen nodded.
      “Since no one is around, I’ll make it so you won’t feel any pain.”
      “Okay.”
      Death lifted up his right hand, pointed with his index finger, and simply touched the side of her head. She stood there for a second, looking quite peaceful. Her eyes became sleepy and they shut... she collapsed.
      Ray watched her for a moment before he started to walk out of the house. As he walked through the entryway, he glanced up and did a double-take looking at the chandelier. It wasn’t that high. In fact, it was close enough to the stairs that one could...
      Jump on it.
      Ray smiled and ran half way up the stairs. He climbed up on the banister and balanced while holding on to the wall next to him. Concentrating on the chandelier, he judged the distance.
      One...
      Two...
      Three...
      He jumped. Twelve feet from the floor below. Arms reached out and fingers hooked the metal rim of the crystal chandelier. The hanging prisms cast little rainbows all around and chimed in high pitch.
      Death was laughing and hanging from a $5,000 crystal chandelier. * * * interviewer: So what do you do when you’re not on the job?

Barlow: Um, well, I don’t need a house or home or anything, so I just roam the earth, you know, doing anything and everything. Literally. I do whatever I want to do, whatever pops into my head that’ll be not just fun, but really fun. Like, I remember I used to sit on catapults in the fourteenth century and pull the switch and I’d just go flying! That was incredible fun because I have always wanted to fly. I mean, I’m not human but I still don’t have the ability to fly. Tharn--he’s the Death of animals--he can fly. He’s lucky.

interviewer: You aren’t the only Death?

Barlow: Oh, no, I’m just the Biological Death of humans--you know, natural causes and illnesses. But it is the biggest job, and that’s why my real name is simply Death.

interviewer: Who are the other Deaths?

Barlow: Well, there’s Alex, he’s the Accidental Death of humans. He’s a good guy, we hang out a lot, uh... and there’s Enigma, the Mystery Death of humans. He’s weird, I don’t talk to him at all... he scares me. And then there’s Death of insects, and Death of lawyers, and so on.

* * *       “Hey, Alex, what’s goin’ on?” Ray said, tilting his head and massaging his right shoulder. Alex was walking up the sidewalk in front of the 7-Eleven. It was raining hard, soaking them to the bone, but they paid no attention to it.
      “Nothin’ much,” said Alex. “Just finished my round with a guy I had choke on a piece of candy while skydiving.”
      “No way.”
      “I’m totally serious, man, some of the stuff they have me do is hilarious.”
      “So you got to go skydiving?”
      “Yep, it was sweet.” They had to speak a little louder over the constant wet hiss of the splattering rain.
      Ray shook his head. “You lucky punk! Man, skydiving, I gotta remember that...,” he said mostly to himself while shaking his head and snapping his fingers.
      “It was pretty tough killing him in midair, but the look on his face...” Alex started to laugh. “I almost scared him to death before I had a chance to kill him for real.”
      Ray laughed. “Man, you get some weird stuff.”
      “Oh, and when I landed!... Crap, I must’ve bounced ten feet in the air.”
      “That sounds so fun... Gotta remember to go skydiving next time.” Ray massaged his shoulder.
      “What’s with the shoulder?” Alex asked pointing with a nod of his head, causing a shower of drops to fall from his brown hair and round face.
      “Aw, it’s just a little tight. I was swinging from a wrecking ball downtown and hit a load bearing wall head on.”
      “Ooh,” Alex squinted and cringed.
      “Yeah. But, man, it was awesome.”
      “How’s the whole ‘ooh, look at me, I’m a celebrity’ thing going?” Alex said, while using a mocking, high-pitched voice.
      “Shut up, man, it’s fun.” Ray dropped his eyebrows. “But these people’s obsession with death...” He shook his head and smirked. “It’s pretty ridiculous.”
      “Heh, yeah, humans are freaks.”
      “No, they’re just... scared.”
      “Whatever. Here, this’ll help your shoulder.” Alex raised his right hand in a fist and swung it down with the force of a sledgehammer onto Ray’s shoulder. Ray stumbled backwards with his knees buckled and arms spinning, almost knocking him off his feet.
      “Oh, you’re goin’ down,” Ray said with a grin. He drilled Alex in the stomach with a wet slap, followed by a left hook to the face.
The two Deaths fought and laughed hysterically in the rain in front of the 7-Eleven. * * * interviewer: Out of all the, I don’t know, millions, billions of people you have killed -- er, ‘scuse me, people whose lives you have ended--

Barlow: Yes [laughs]. Actually it’s in the ten-trillions I think.

interviewer: Out of all of these people, are there any that stick out in your mind, that were most memorable or special in any way?

Barlow: Hmmm... You know what I think of most? It was not too long ago actually, just like twenty-five years or something... There was this very old man living at home, lying in his bed ready to fall asleep when I got there -- I don’t remember his exact age, but he was over a hundred -- and I walked in and said the usual, you know, it’s time for you to stop living, and he looked at me and said...

* * *       “Do you know what I was doing when the Titanic sank? I was playing football in the snow with my best friends.” The old man smiled peacefully while looking Ray right in the eyes.
      Ray raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth. He didn’t know what to say.
      “People these days,” said the man, slowly shaking his head. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”
      The room was silent. Ray was in awe of this man. “You know...” he paused. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” He walked over to the old man and sat on his bed. “What was your secret?”
      The old man took a moment, then started to speak. It was barely audible, so Ray had to lean his ear closer to the man’s mouth.
      “Whatever makes you happy, son,” he said. “Whatever makes you happy.”
      Ray leaned back and nodded. “I’ll wait ‘til you fall asleep.” He smiled gently. “You won’t feel a thing.” * * * After our interview, we took a walk through Golden Gate Park where we talked about music, movies, people of the past... People occasionally stopped him to ask for an autograph. He complied politely, always signing the name Death. But what I found most interesting was his many anecdotes of his fun-filled escapades. * * *       Death was climbing the tracks of the roller coaster to get to the top of Thunder Mountain in Disneyland.
      Death was rounding third in an empty Candlestick Park.
      Death threw himself into the Olympic flame and ran around yelling, “USA! USA!” while drenched in fire.
      Death was in the Pacific Ocean wrestling a shark.
      Death put on his 49ers helmet, hopped into his shopping cart and rolled down the slopes of downtown San Francisco.
      Death was skydiving. * * * Barlow: Why am I not like the Grim Reaper? [laughs] I dunno, I’ve just been doing this for so long that... [shrugs] I just know people. I have sympathy for them. They’re good things. They’re special. I like you guys! [he pretends to cry, but his act is overly dramatic]
At the conclusion of our interview, I asked him if he had any advice for all of us mortals. Handsome Ray Barlow just winked at me and smiled. “Whatever makes you happy... whatever makes you happy.”

Nominated by TIM SCHELL, FICTION INSTRUCTOR