Barry Alder - Author
Death Wish
Jim sat uncomfortably in the large, cushioned chair. The office was still. The afternoon light angled across his knees, making them too warm. Not enough that he wanted to move, but warm enough to be noticed. The chair was too soft. He felt like he was sitting on a bean bag. He shifted his position a few times before finding a spot that felt somewhat comfortable. Although comfort wasn’t his main concern right now.
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“So, why do you want to die, Jim?”
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“Look,” he said forcefully, sitting up and leaning forward. “This is the fourth time in as many months I’ve been through this!”
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The evaluator sat quietly and smiled.
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“It’s the process, Jim” he said calmly. “You know that. It’s just us being thorough.”
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Jim sighed and sank back into the chair.
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“Yea, I know,” he whispered.
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“Why do you want to die, Jim?”
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“I’m ninety-five,” he replied, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I shouldn’t be alive. My body’s breaking down. I can’t do anything. My eyesight is fading.
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“I feel useless!”
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“Many feel like that at your age, but they don’t want to die. What’s the real reason?”
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Jim leaned back in the chair, frustration clearly showing on his face.
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“The same reasons as before,” he said flatly.
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“Please, Jim. You have to tell us again. For the record.”
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“Why! Why do I have to tell you again? It’s already in the records and my feelings haven’t changed!”
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“It’s the process we have to go through, Jim. Nothing more.”
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Jim sat quietly in the chair for a few moments.
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“I lost my wife a few years back. Most of my friends are gone too, or moved away.”
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“Any children?”
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“Two. They were displaced too, by the droughts, and we’ve lost touch with each other. That was five years ago. I’ve tried to find them but haven’t been able to. I don’t think they’re looking for me. We weren’t that close to begin with.
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“I’ve got cancer, and they don’t expect me to live for more than a year or two. They say it will be painful near the end.
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“I don’t want to end up in a hospital surrounded by people who really don’t care about me.”
“Anything else?”
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Jim sighed before continuing.
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“I’m living in one of those refugee camps. In a tent. The only things I see regularly are the friggen robots who bring me my food. I don’t have any friends there.
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“There’s nothing to do.”
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“And?”
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“I’ve got nothing to live for, and I want to go out on my terms.”
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“So, I’m getting the feeling that you feel you have no control over your life.”
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“I don’t!” Jim shouted as he leaned forward in the chair. “I’m stuck and I want out!”
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“And,” the evaluator said calmly, “you feel that by choosing how you die will give you some control back?”
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“Yes,” replied Jim quietly, sinking back into the chair.
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“How do you want to die, Jim?”
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“I know a spot,” Jim said with a tinge of excitement in his voice, “up north. There’s this lake I’ve visited in the past. It’s really peaceful there. I’ll find a tree I can sit and lean against and watch the sun go down over the lake. Then I’ll take the pill. I’ll go out as the day goes out.”
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The evaluator sat back for a few moments.
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“You know, Jim. You could have done that any time without our assistance. Why come to us?”
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Jim was quiet for a long while.
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“Despite how selfish this appears; I don’t want to cause anyone extra stress. If I disappeared to do it myself, someone would come looking for me. I’ve seen it time and again in the camp. There’d be a lot of effort and concern, and I don’t want to put that on anyone.
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“I want to go out knowing I’m not causing anyone extra trouble. They all have enough to worry about already.”
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“So, this is to be a last, noble gesture?”
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“Noble be damned! This is me standing up for my needs!”
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The evaluator sighed softly.
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“Okay, Jim. No more evaluations.”
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He opened a drawer of his desk and took out a small box.
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“Here is the pill.”
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He handed the box to Jim.
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“When will you leave?”
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“Tomorrow morning,” said Jim calmly.
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“Can you give us directions so we can pick up your body?”
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“Don’t bother,” Jim replied as he stood to leave, “Nature will take care of it.”