Waypoint

A incandescent light blazed like the core of a new-born star, then sudden blackness enveloped all like a black hole consuming everything. A second, a minute, a millennium passed. Time had no meaning here, wherever here was or wasn’t. There was nothing at all, a bleakness without end, as if the universe was never born. Then, without warning or prelude two figures stood facing each other where the blackness had just been.

Two old men stood there staring at one another. “Who the hell are you” said the one man to the other. His cross eyes were angry, his hair white and thinning, long and unkempt. His face gaunt and wrinkled, posture bent and frail.

“I’m not sure” replied the other man in a quiet, thoughtful tone. His eyes were warm and friendly, his hair white and short, neatly combed back. His face wrinkled, yet inviting, smile lines and creases permeating his face. His posture frail, yet upright and proud.

The angry old man looked around himself. They stood face to face in an illuminated circle of light fifty feet across, gray shadows and forms beyond it too difficult to make out. “Where am I” he demanded. “What have you done to me” he yelled as he reached out and grabbed the other man by the collar.

“I’ve done nothing” the other man squealed. ”I have no idea what’s going on”. The angry old man then threw him roughly to the ground.

“I’m getting the hell out of here” he stated firmly as if talking to himself. “No wait” cried the other man. “We don’t know what’s out there” as he looked warily into the distant shadows. “We should go together”.

The angry old man looked at him with contempt in his eyes. “I don’t want you anywhere near me. I’m going alone, and don’t follow me,” he warned, the implied threat emphasized by his tone of voice and glare in his eyes. With that, he turned about and stalked off into the shadows.

The old man looked about him as he slowly rose to his feet. Where was he, and what was he doing here, he kept repeating to himself. And the other man, angry and hateful, he didn’t want to run into him again. He saw no answers in the circle of light he was standing in. With a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to the only course of action he could think of. He turned about and walked in the opposite direction the angry old man had taken and disappeared into the shadows.

The angry old man had walked for what had seemed like hours, the shadows and forms in the distance always seeming to coalesce into actual objects and persons only to dissolve back into the shadows again as he neared them. He was becoming more and more frustrated and angry when he suddenly stepped out of the shadows into a bright sunlit day. He shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight, squinting in an attempt to see where he was.

He was on a street corner, a barber shop to his right, a butcher across the street. Cars waiting at the light as others sped through the intersection, pedestrians strolling down the sidewalks, some in quiet conversation. One of them bumped into him, pulling him out of the trance he was in.

“Hey Lynch, where you been man, we’ve been lookin all over for ya” called a voice from behind him. He turned to see two young men standing casually by the barber shop. The speaker was of medium height, muscular with dark curly hair, ragged jeans and a dark tee shirt. His associate tall and lanky, blond hair with a misshapen face and beady eyes, jeans and a dark tee as well.

Recognition dawned on him as he regarded the two young men. They were his mates he grew up with. Here on the west side, the rough part of town, having each others back had made them inseparable since grammar school. He caught his reflection in the barber shop window and blinked in surprise and shock. Looking back at him was a young man, strong and virile, handsome with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Wyatt…Connor….. you guys have been lookin for me, huh. Well, here I am,” Lynch stated with bravado. This all seemed vaguely familiar to Lynch as his mind raced to catch up with what was going on.

“Come on Lynch, we ain’t got time for this shit. We got that job we need to get to before five o’clock today” exclaimed Wyatt.

“Yeah, you’re right” said Lynch as he remembered what that job was. He should remember it. He was the one who planned it. “Let’s get moving, we still have time to get there before five.”

The other old man walking in the opposite direction stopped for a moment and looked around. It seemed like hours and still only shadows, and fleeting glimpses of moving shapes that always disappeared as he drew closer. “What am I doing” he cried in dismay, “I’m getting nowhere…. there’s nothing out here. I… I must be dreaming, and I can’t wake up.” He was about to give up, when no more than fifty feet ahead of him he saw a shape… that looked like a person…. waving to him. Startled, he unconsciously walked toward the shape and found himself in a park, the person waiving to him…. a woman standing near a park bench. He approached her.

He could smell the grass, trees and flowers. The sun was hidden behind cumulus clouds, a walking path wound through the park past the bench where she stood. Children played on the playground equipment to his left, trees and flowers dotting the ideal landscape.

“Harry, it’s good to see you” said the mature woman by the bench. She was of medium height with graying long hair, slender yet athletic in running shorts and tee shirt with a smile that could light up a room.

“I was hoping to see you here, I know how much you love walking in the park” she said. “I have a situation I was hoping you could help me out with.”

“Grace…. good to see you too.” Yes, Grace was her name, an old friend of his. Harry? Yes, that was his name, it was all coming back to him. “What can I help you out with” he asked.

“Well I just found out that Denise is sick and won’t be able to work at the jewelry store this afternoon with me, and everyone else is either busy or I can’t get ahold of them. So…. I was hoping you could hang out with me there this afternoon” she said with a smile. “I just don’t feel safe working there alone” she added quickly.

“Of course,” he said returning a smile of his own. “When do you want me there.”

“Two o’clock would be great, if you can manage that, or even three would be fine.”

“Two o’clock it is” he stated flatly. “I’ll be happy to help you out Grace.”

“Great” she replied. “Well, I’d better finish my run if I’m going to make it there by 2 o’clock myself.” And with that she was off, jogging along the trail toward the far end of the park.

He smiled to himself as she receded in the distance. ‘It will be nice to spend some time with Grace,’ he thought. ‘But, for now…. I’m famished. I think I have time to go get something to eat before I head to the store.’ And with that, he was off with a spring in his step and a lift to his spirit.

“Ok, that’s the last customer” said Lynch, as he watched a lady in fashionable clothes exit the store and turn up the street. Lynch, Wyatt and Connor quickly entered the store. Connor flipping the open sign on the door to closed and pulling it’s shade. Wyatt closing the shades on the storefront window as Lynch quickly approached the counter.

The astonished clerk looked up from rearranging the inventory to see Lynch pull a gun from his waist and point it directly at her. She froze in place.

“Wha…. what do you want” she whimpered.

“Shut up” he interrupted, “and don’t move” as he waved the gun threateningly. Wyatt and Connor were now on either side of him eyeing the display cases full of jewelry.

“All right” came a voice from the back room, “I’ve locked the money in the safe, are we ready to close up….. now,” he said as he entered the room and saw the dire situation.

“You…. get over here, next to her… now.” Harry moved slowly over next to Grace.

“Are you alright Grace” he asked. “Shut up, no talking” barked Lynch.

“Alright, I want all the money, hand it over” demanded Lynch.

“We can’t” stuttered Grace, “it’s in the time locked safe and can’t be opened again until eight tomorrow morning.”

“Dammit, I told you we got here too late” complained Wyatt.

“Forget the cash, let take all the jewelry, it’s got to be worth a fortune” exclaimed Connor.

“What, and you’re going to sell it on the street” stated Lynch. “We don’t know any fences. We came here for the cash.”

“She’s lying” said Lynch becoming clearly more agitated. “Open the safe and give us the damn money” he yelled as he pointed the gun directly at her forehead. Harry stepped in front of Grace, the gun now almost touching his forehead.

“Please don’t do this” he pleaded. “You don’t have to do this. We would gladly give you the money if we could open the safe, but we can’t.

Lynch regarded the old man standing in front of him, white haired and frail, yet upright and proud. There was something familiar about him that he just couldn’t put his finger on. His eyes had a warmth that seemed to calm Lynch the more he looked into them.

Harry looked at the angry young man before him with the gun in his hand. In his eyes he saw the turmoil and struggle in his young life. The tough upbringing and even tougher choices that had brought him to this moment. Harry felt something deep inside himself, and a single tear streamed down his cheek.

“Please don’t do this” he said quietly to Lynch. “You can’t do this……we can’t do this.”

Lynch pulled the trigger and the gun fired. There was an explosive sound and then bright light followed by darkness.

The two old men stood once again in the circle of light facing one another. They stared at each other, an understanding now of the bond between them. Off to one side, two open doors appeared, one as black as night within, the other full of brilliant light. They turned to face the doors knowing deep inside what they were.

“Good and evil” a voice boomed in their heads, “exists in all beings. A constant battle taking place within to see which one can come out on top.” The voice so loud and painful they dropped to their knees and covered their ears.

“Most of the time it’s clear” the thunderous voice continued, “which one prevails in the struggle. Yet occasionally, the two sides are so evenly matched that a final battle must take place to determine the final outcome.”

“Witness now the final outcome of your battle” the booming voice declared.

The two old men, one angry and bitter, the other kindly and forgiving, in their minds eyes now saw the final scene unfolding before them.

Lynch pulled the trigger and the gun fired, but instead of hitting Harry or Grace the bullet exploded into the fire alarm on the wall just to the left and behind Harry. Lights started flashing, alarms blaring and the sprinkler went off drenching everyone with water.

“What the hell” yelled Connor above the din. “Are you crazy Lynch,” added Wyatt screaming. “What the fuck did you just do.”

“Shit” screeched Connor. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” And with that Connor and Wyatt bolted from the store.

The two old men in the circle of light looked at each other one final time.

The great voice spoke, “And so, Harry Lynch, final judgment has been rendered.”

With that, the two old men each began to dissolve into motes of light. The motes of light dancing and flowing as they came together into one ball of shimmering and pulsating light, which then disappeared as it went through the door of brilliant light.