He has heard of the magic of this place, and in his own depressed mind Harold Mathers thinks that it will help him overcome a lifetime of what he perceives to be personal failures. Harold in his own mind, has decided that he has not sufficiently provided for them in the way a that a successful father and husband should provide for his wife and child, Harold has decided that he will better serve his young family in the land of the dead rather than the living, he has come to Crows Crossing Road to die of his own volition, by his own hand. He walks into the woods towards the place called Devils Bend, it is a place on the hillside three miles from the road where a thick grove of trees slowly turns into a half moon shape along a large hillside that overlooks a rolling green meadow, this place, he has decided is where he will confront and court death. It is still early morning here, as he rounds the top of Devils Bend the sun has barely begun to rise and the green grassy field is still covered in the silk of the fresh morning dew. As he holds the hand gun at his side, Harold Mathers eye’s search for the perfect spot where his accident will occur, his feet however begin to lose traction on the wet hillside and he loses his balance and falls, his head strikes the ground as he lands, and the gun falls harmlessly from his grip landing without discharge a full seven feet from him. He can feel his head begin to pound slowly, his eye’s slowly swelling with tears, “I can’t even die right!! Can I?” he asked himself. His eyes roll back and begin to search the morning sky for some unseen answer, and when he sees the Crow slowly circling and descending on him the darkness settles in and then he sees nothing.
He can hear something by his ear, softly as though its breath whispers past him. But he sees nothing.
“Why must you do this to yourself Harold Mathers?”
“I have failed, in life, as a husband, as a father, as… a man.”
“Failed how exactly?” the voice enquires.
“I can’t seem to do anything right, can’t keep a job, can’t make enough money, can’t give them what they need.”
“Are they homeless?”
“N.. no.. we live in a small apartment. But its nothing, my little girl goes to school, and my wife takes care of her the best she can, but.-”
“And you being dead will benefit them how exactly?”
“Life insurance policy. They get 50 thousand if I croak.”
“No Harold you speak lies, you only fail your family when you give up on them, you only fail by quitting on them, by giving up on yourself.”
“I am a-”
“Failure? When you hold you daughters hand when she is ill, is this a failure?.. When you provide an honest living for your wife and child by standing to face your responsibilities as a husband and father, are these failures Harold? Your child goes to school and feeds her young mind to prepare herself for her future, she is well fed and dressed and is loved, while so many others are deserted, left to their own devices, to face their own demons at such a young age. Your child is a success not a failure, you must not give up on her Harold, you must rise to the land of the living, you must finish it Harold not for you, for them.”
He opens his eyes and sees the crow sitting perched on a stump not more than ten feet from him, he looks for the gun but it is nowhere to be seen, he sits up and shares a brief silent stare with the black Crow before it raises its wings skyward and takes silent flight. He rises up and watches the beautiful bird spread its wings across the empty morning sky. He thinks to himself. “Maybe I just need more time, one more day, to live, to breathe, to face life As a man. One more day.. Just one more.” he turns and disappears into the woods down the path leading to Crows Crossing Road.
Scratch. © 2007.
