& Harriet - Others Like Us
Good morning, darling.
Yes, good morning. Last night, as you were falling asleep, and before I went to wherever it is I go when youíre ďnot hereĒ, I saw Bill Prescott wander through our living room. His eyes met mine, Harriet. He didnít say a word, but I know he saw me.
Thatís very likely because he died last night, Martin. Massive heart attack. Muriel is beside herself. She always thought he was in terrific shape. The whole town knows how he used to eat when she wasnít around. Poor guy. Only fifty-one. Have you seen him again, Martin?
No, not again.
Well, he must have been passing through. No pun intended, dear. Isnít he the first of your kind youíve seen since you died?
Yes and itís still weird to hear you say that. Even though I canít pick up a bloody coffee mug, itís still hard to wrap my mind around.
I do hope he passed peacefully.
He looked more confused than in pain, Harriet. As though he didnít know the next step. I wonder why heís not stuck with Muriel, like Iím stuÖ
Stuck with me, Martin? Is that what you were going to say?
You know I didnít mean it like that. I mean't stuck here, in this earthly
plane. Seems there should have been a light by now. Some ethereal taxi service or something.
Perhaps Bill and Muriel had finished all their business. Perhaps he was truly done with life.
Itís a bit like waiting for the other shoe to drop though, Harriet. Like as though one particular thing must happen for me to move on and weíre completely in the dark as to what that might be.
You know what, Martin?
Iím rather glad you havenít moved on just yet. Iím not sure Iím ready to wake up and youíre gone.
Thank you Harriet. That means the world to me to hear you say that.
Yes, well. Donít get used to it.