553 words, 3 minutes read time.
The two were found together holding hands cuffed with a handkerchief. Down on the lake bed. No family to contact. No children. Just two people who made a decision.
“Hello..um, are you free?”
“Yes. Why are you trembling?,” asked Juno.
“Juno..jun..oo.”
“Are you crying? You idiot.”
“Hold for me a minute,” uttered Simu as he locked tight the washroom door.
“Wait, you found him right??”
“Juno its a little complicated.”
“He’s dead. He’s dead, right?”
Simu cries and tears fizzle down his cheek and disappear into the sink, the voice from the open tap engulfing the entire washroom.
“How much money did he owe to you, Juno?”
“Why does it matter now, ha.”
“100k? 1m? 10m?”
“Something like that. Gone. Gone with him. I hope he enjoyed spending all of it before ending up down there.”
“We are going to arrange his funeral, right?” asked Simu cautiously.
“How much would all that cost?”
“50k? No idea. I have never done this before.”
“50k? What the heck. Somebody died and it costs 50k to do a funeral? I guess every 2nd person who dies never achieves absolution because nobody has that much money lying around.”
Simu stayed silent as he grasped the gravity of the moment for once. Their childhood friend has died and now there they stand with almost no money to spare.
“Maybe this is what he wanted,” said Juno dejectedly.
“He died doing his job, right?”
“Nobody asked him to fall over for a women he was tasked to trap and kill. This is all his doing.”
“He knew how it was going to end. He took the job to do exactly this,” Simu said.
“So tell me again, how much money does the funeral cost, anyways?”
“Juno, you son of a bit…I love you man.”
The mortician asked the friends to say their final goodbyes.
“Hey Woo, thanks for everythi..ng man. Take ca..re and don’t worry abo..ut anything now. Thanks for the memories,” a sobbing Simu said clutching the hands of his now deceased friend.
“You owe me 101k now. Take care buddy,” said Juno as a secretly slipped a folded 1k currency note in the pocket of the funeral dress.
The fire accepted Woo at once. There was no struggle. The two friends watched on as the flames completed the final tale of Woo’s life on Earth.
“Hey, which way is the room no. 67?” asked Juno to the hostel front desk.
“To your right and in the corner.”
Juno opened the door to a small room. A bed, a table, few bags, and some clothing lying around. He finds a picture of the 3 of them, Woo, his wife, and their son. A letter on the table reads:
“I have no words to express my pain for the loss of your child. No thoughts cross my mind and my breathing is now fast as I write this. He is in a better place now, a place where pain doesn’t exist. Isn’t that beautiful?”
Juno lays down on the bed. In battle with the web of lies, thoughts, and promises that shaped his friend’s life. A life which had so much and yet none to know now.
Inspired by the scenes from the television series, Lost (2021).
Written for What do you see #314.
Tagged: WDYS
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