For some reason I’d gone over there, and not finding what I was looking for I decided to make my way back. I’d been blocked by some very dark but seemingly shallow puddle; the same kind that now blocked me from getting back. Usually these black parking lot puddles are just that, but if you’re not familiar with the landscape, they can be deceiving. Sometimes you take a step into one, like stepping into snow, and find that you fall a few inches, and you end up getting your socks wet.
I fell into my own death. I just walked right into that shallow darkness and within a step I was sinking fast into the black murky swampy water. There was vegetation in the water, it was mostly black, and because I was wearing so much, and for some reasons my pockets were quite full, I sank very fast.
Yeah, I died, just right over there. I’m telling someone that I didn’t realize how deep it was and because I had all this stuff in my pockets and I was wearing heavy layers I just sank so fast. There was really no hope, but it was just there. I lost my phone, and my watch and that jacket. Ya know it was only like twenty or thirty feet. Maybe I can get me out and get my stuff back at least?
That’s a great idea! Oh my god I’ve got to get my body out of that hole, I can’t just leave me there it’s undignified. Help me out.
He comes back with a large hollow bent pole; much like the tool made by that New Caledonian Crow to pull his bucket out of that well. I take it and stand at the edge of the pit and begin fishing around. At first I feel nothing, and think to myself that the body has fallen flat, or it is further away than I thought. Suddenly I feel a thud as the pole swings against the side of my old dead head. There’s the body! Now if I can just hook it and pull up. Quickly I begin fishing, and I feel the extra weight, and my sleeved hand flies up out of the murk. I grab at it and pull. I quickly glance at the others, who see and are smiling and cheering but won’t help. I pull my body out of the water and dump it onto the concrete. I turn my body on it’s side and let some of the water spill out of my mouth.
I’ve been dead for around an hour. At this point I’m just letting the water run out because it’s indignified and I realize this body should be buried properly. Quickly though I begin pushing on my stomach and chest like CPR. I see the water spurt out, and I see little movement, and hear bursts of spit,gurgle. Then the reality of me saving my own life sets in. I kept saying, “C’mon Michael. Michael! Michael, come on.” The person with me looked at me strangely, because I was calling him Michael. Then I realized what I was doing and I stopped, and I called him Rick. That felt even stranger, as it would to acknowledge another person, now coming back to life, who also has your name.
I pushed and pounded on the chest to get the water out. Eventually I slowly and reluctantly put my lips to my lips and blow air in. I was afraid to put my lips to a dead mans, but I did in haste because I have seen that there is life here. I pulled away a little. Rick coughed, and his eyes shifted and looked around. He recovered but didn’t ever speak. I suppose the whole thing must have seemed equally bizarre.
I say to myself, “There you are. Welcome back.” Holy shit! There’s the old me and the new me, and we’re together. He’s alive. I’m not so sure how I feel about this, but I love him, and I’m glad he’s alive!
Then in my infinite practicality I decided we should go to the doctor because he/I/you were just dead in that nasty murky shit, and there’s gotta be some antibiotics that we can get to clean you up a bit. Instead I find my aunt Brenda. She’s mildly impressed and my cousin gives him a couple pills, which are just iodine. That’s good for purifying water right? He takes them.
I remember your eye sockets being red and puffy, and your lips being cold and puffy and gray. I remember your wet dead hair, and remember putting my lips to yours fearfully. I don’t know really why I wanted you to live, but I think you’re an ok guy, and what happened was just an accident. You didn’t deserved to die. I imagine that we’ll have some conversations, stay in touch and go our separate ways, but I can’t help feeling like I love you and am afraid of you at the same time.