Afterlife and Other Stories

AFTERLIFE AND
OTHER STORIES

AFTERLIFE AND
OTHER STORIES

Ed Krizek

Copyright © 2004 by Ed Krizek.
ISBN: Softcover 978-1-4134-4002-7
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are
the product of the author‟s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is
entirely coincidental.
This book was printed in the United States of America.
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CONTENTS

AFTERLIFE .........................................................................9IN
MEMORIAM ...............................................................12DO YOU
KNOW ME? ......................................................23MEMORIES
LOST ............................................................30OUT OF ORDER
..............................................................81SHORT CIRCUIT

.............................................................85TURNING POINT
...........................................................89BOY‟S NIGHT OUT
.........................................................96THE BEGGAR
................................................................105THE YELLOW CAB
MAN ..............................................111LETTER FROMA
LAUNDROMAT ...............................117DEMOLITION
...............................................................119EDDIE THE JUNKIE
.....................................................122UNFINISHED BUSINESS
..............................................126PEREGRINATION
..........................................................132SPRING-CLEANING
......................................................140IT‟S A GIFT
.....................................................................143TRADING UP
.................................................................150THE GOOD
CITIZEN ...................................................157ONE WINTER‟S
EVE .....................................................161WALT‟S
............................................................................165
For Caroline

AFTERLIFE

At seventy-three, her hair was almost completely white
although it had a gray tinge to it. She had bristly hairs growing
out of certain spots on her face. Her stroke some years ago had
left her paralyzed on the left side, and food drooled down that
half of her face when she ate. She wore a brace on her left leg,
and her hand on that side of her body clutched involuntarily in
almost a fist, as if she were trying to hold onto something.
Bob always took care of her. They had been what can be
loosely called friends for the past fifteen years. He took care of
her. He picked her up and sat her in her wheelchair. He

wheeled it all around the city to shops, the grocery store, and
the park. On nice days, he would push her several miles during
the daylight hours.
Bob was older than Jean, but time had been kinder to his
body. Although he had the physical strength to help Jean, he
also had some problems that come with age. His memory was
not what it used to be. He often forgot important tasks like
going to the bank, for instance, and he became upset and
confused when he ran out of money. Bob would never use
automatic tellers. He could never quite get the concept of
pushing buttons and receiving money. He never complained
though. He was happy God had given him the chance to take
care of Jean.
They were what youth-oriented America terms companions.
Each had a different reason for needing the other. Jean had
been a highly independent woman before her stroke, fl irting
and cavorting her way through life. Now God had made her a
cripple who was dependent on Bob for her existence. Jean was
uncomfortable with this state of affairs since she had always
done for herself. Yet she recognized that perhaps this lot she
had been given was appropriate since she had not always been
the most giving person in her youth. She had never loved her
husband who died before Bob‟s wife. She just couldn‟t get
herself to open up and trust a man. She told her family that she
didn‟t love Bob either, but that she was thankful that he had
come into her life since she couldn‟t get along without him.
And although Bob loved her dearly, he had often heard her say
this but felt it was the Lord‟s way of helping him atone for the
life he had led in his youth. He had not been perfect either.
Once Bob had been a marine, young, and strong, and ready to

give his life for his country. Now he was forgetful, weak, and
unwilling to give away the little time he knew was left to him.
For Bob it happened gradually. Sometimes he would see a
scintilla of light flash across Jean‟s eyes. He thought he could
see her dancing as a young adult woman, beautiful, sensual, and
full of life force. He attributed this to his deteriorating mental
state at first. He knew his mind played tricks on him. For Jean,
it was different. One day she was rolling in her wheelchair with
Bob pushing behind. She turned and saw him in his Dress
Blues, marching with his white gloved hands around the
wheelchair‟s handles with brass buttons shining against his
uniform. Jean did a double take and was comforted to see the
soft paunchy white-haired man she knew.
Neither of them talked much about their feelings. Both
were concerned about the effects of old age on the brain, so the
visions were never mentioned. But they persisted, and grew
stronger and longer with time. There began to be days when
instead of going out for wheelchair walks they stayed indoors
and stared into each other‟s eyes. Each seeing the glint of life in
the other. Neither of them said anything, but both knew what
was happening.
Finally one day Bob said, “Would you like to dance, Jean?”
“I‟d love to!” she said.
They put a waltz on the record player. Bob took Jean‟s right
hand and helped her to stand. He put his arms around her waist
and said, “I love you, Jean.”
“I love you too, Bob,” she replied.
And they were found dead by the building manager, in the
middle of the living room of the apartment they shared in what
was described by the coroner‟s office as an embrace.

IN MEMORIAM

“It‟s wake-up time.”
The boy rolled over and pulled the covers over his head.