Black and White: Rock City Chronicles #10

Whiff!

A golf ball soared through the air, traveling at high velocity toward a sand bunker. It landed with a poof, and two figures - out enjoying themselves on a fine Sunday afternoon - marveled at the great shot they had just witnessed.

To tell the truth, only one -  a silver fox - witnessed it; the other - a crow - was the one who had launched the ball.

"You're getting better at this, Seymour," the fox said, following a low whistle.

"Thanks, Charlie," the crow said. "I had a good teacher."

Charlie looked at Seymour inquisitively. "Who taught you?"

"You, of course," Seymour said, climbing into their golf cart and opening his lunch box. He bit into a worm-and-cheese sandwich.

Charlie laughed. "All I taught you was the proper golf posture. I never taught you to swing that well!"

"You sure? Because you showed me that you swing much better than that when you do the exact same thing!" Seymour spoke through his full beak before taking a moment to swallow. "Well, at the very least, I'm glad you enjoy seeing me improve my game." He stopped eating, noticing a runaway earthworm on the cart. He picked it up and muttered "Come back here, you," before popping it into his beak.

Charlie didn't notice. He climbed in next to Seymour and began to drive the cart.

Seymour knew for a fact that if Charlie weren't in a public place, he'd be more willing to walk to his ball rather than take the cart on a detour to the side of the course. However, Charlie wanted to look for his ball the way "mundanes"  - the accepted term for people who lacked superpowers - did it, because it had been a while since he had gone golfing with a friend.

Two years, in fact. That was how long it had taken for Seymour to meet him again.

That was how long it had taken for Seymour to join his vulpine buddy in the Land of the Dead.

Seymour also knew that Charlie was trying his very hardest to keep his eyes on the road, to avoid staring at the revolting sandwich.

Only a bird would ever eat worms, and even then, it was an acquired taste.

"Charlie," Seymour said, "How's Angelique doin'?"
"Great," Charlie replied, swerving to avoid a large puddle on the ground. "In fact, better than usual. I think she's finally accepted my friendship with Marduk and Medusa."

"Aw, geez, Charlie, please don't remind me about those two. They still give me the creeps."

Medusa was a demoness, the owner of a bar in Sheol, the demon city north of Tartarus. A being of Greek legend, she lacked the mythical ability to turn people to stone, as the legend had went that the ability came from being too ugly to look at.

Marduk was a being from  Babylonian legend, although he was what is known as a "false god." In the days of old, he had tricked the ancient city into worshipping him as its chief deity, and had spent a few centuries in Tartarus for playing this joke. He was, in contrast to popular belief, not a god of thunderstorms and the sky, but instead, a purely wind-based demon. Unlike Medusa, who never concealed her true form, Marduk spent most of his time in the form of a wolf.

Both were strong beings, naturally, and for this reason Seymour couldn't quite feel alright in the same room, regardless of their surprising friendliness.
They always seemed more cordial with Charlie anyway, if only because he was far more well-known among the demonic citizens of Sheol. It seemed demons were more willing to accept mortals as friends if they were Herculean, too.

Herculean. That was the term used for beings like Charlie.

"Aw, come on, Seymour," Charlie said, parking the cart and stepping out, "You'll get used to them."

"Yeah, maybe. But I still don't like that thing Marduk does with his throat."
"You mean when he gives people a tiny glimpse of his true form? Come on, Seymour, that second mouth of his couldn't eat anything bigger than a handful of your worms."
Seymour shuddered, remembering the first time he saw Marduk lean back, expose his lower neck, and reveal a smiling pair of lips that was so restricted in movement it could only pronounce vowels.

"Oooooooooooh, eeeeee, ahhhhh." Marduk was the only being Seymour knew who could be the worst and best ventriloquist ever at the same time. Sometimes, he could never understand Charlie's tolerance of something so disturbing.

Ultimately, the crow determined that the optimal course of action to take was to change the subject.

There was a question swimming in his mind that he decided he would ask now.

Seymour turned to look at Charlie as the fox pulled out an iron. The crow was wondering if Charlie would answer his question. Suppose it was too touchy a subject?

He decided it was worth the risk. After all, the two were the closest of friends. "Charlie?"
"Yeah?" Charlie was about to take a practice swing.
"Do you believe in seances? I mean, meetings where people try to summon their deceased relatives?"
"No, Seymour." Charlie swung, then took another swing, this time sending the ball into the air. It landed on the fairway, not far behind the sand bunker. He climbed into the cart as he continued. "Well, I don't believe in summoning deceased relatives, but I definitely believe in being visited by them."

Crowe thought for a moment, before realizing with a shock what Charlie was talking about. "You know, Charlie, when I died, LeMort asked me if I wanted to attend my own funeral, and I said no. I thought it was his sense of humor being as dark as it always is. Are you telling me that you were there…you know…that night?"

He watched Charlie's ears droop forward as he suddenly placed his foot on the brake, stopping the cart. "Seymour, I got something to tell you."

Charlie looked at Seymour, and it was shocking to him to see the expression Charlie wore. He had never seen the fox with tears in his eyes before.

"Tell you what, Charlie. Why don't you tell me all about it when we get back to my place?"
"Seymour, that's what I was going to tell you. As soon as we're there, I'll tell you all you want to know about it. Deal?"

"Okay, Charlie."

***

It is amazing how animals age differently than humans. While a human continues to change drastically in physical appearance with age through their whole lives, most animals only do this between four times in their lifetime. There are no "seniors" among the world's animal population. First, the newborns become small children, than prepubescents, adolescents, young adults, and finally, older adults. The reason for this is because most animals don't live as long as humans.

This is why Angelique Taylor-Fossker was still slim after bearing two kits. It is also why Seymour, gazing into a casket right now, saw Charlie almost exactly the same way as he had been fifteen years before, on the night of the café robbery.

The funeral was not by any stretch of the imagination lacking in attendees. A lot of Charlie's friends attended the funeral, and of course, Angelique and the freshly-graduated Jack and Alice sat at the front pew.

The video will that was presented was very difficult to sit through. Having already been preceded by a slideshow of photos from throughout Charlie's lifetime, which had ended peacefully, it showed Charlie sitting at home in his bedroom. He spoke about how he desired for his money to go into his children's college funds, and said his final goodbyes before symbolically climbing into the bed and pulling the covers over himself, obscuring him completely as the video ended and faded to black.

The eulogy had been penned anonymously by Seymour himself, but had to be read by Janet Light, as Seymour could not bear to read it himself. It was a recollection of a party celebrating Charlie's first nomination for an award; the Golden Globe. He had lost, but in the face of enjoyment with friends and family, that fact had held no significance. When at last the eulogy had finished, Janet stepped down to the piano in the room.

If, by some impossibly low chance, there was a person in the room who had yet to shed any tears, what happened next put an end to that stoic demeanor.

The sound of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, First Movement began to fill the air.

Seymour looked over at Charlie's family. All of them were in tears, Angelique especially. It was obvious to the crow that while he was certainly deeply affected by Charlie's passing, no one at any funeral can ever match the grief experienced by the deceased's own family.

If only he had known - if only he had been able to perceive - that right next to the family was a familiar, ghostly, vulpine figure.

If only he had known that right then and there, Charlie was saying his real last goodbyes to his family, and while no one in the room could see or interact with him in any way, Charlie gave each member of his family a final hug.

Seymour felt a slight breeze on his face as Charlie tried unsuccessfully to wipe a tear from his eyes. He didn't hear at all as Charlie whispered solemnly, "Okay, I'm ready."

Another ghostly figure appeared behind the fox, and wrapped his coat around him, covering them both up.

And like that, they melted into the shadows and entered the land of the dead.

The music ended, and the ceremony proceeded into the cemetery.

***

"Charlie…I'm…I'm at a loss for words…" Seymour spoke with a sob as Charlie finished the story. They were sitting in the living room of Seymour's afterlife house.

"I thought you would be. I need you to know something, though."

"What?"

Charlie got up off the couch and picked up his coat as he spoke. "After the funeral, LeMort made a deal with me. Twice a month, I'd be given a few hours to see what's new with my family."

Seymour's eyes opened wide as Charlie continued. "And while I was up there for the first time - about a month after the funeral - I found out something amazing."

"Yeah?" Seymour asked, curious.

"Seymour, I've left two very valuable presents on Earth."
He turned to face Seymour and smiled. "Successors."

Seymour's jaw dropped. The revelation was racing through his mind.

So, Jack and Alice have their father's powers.


*** Five years later, Seymour writes in a journal… ***

I recently asked Charlie what it means when a person with superpowers lives among many other powerful beings in the afterlife. Specifically, when - or if - he would ever need to use them again. Charlie's a fan of party tricks, so he never stopped using them to begin with, but I mean for real.

In the five years that have passed, quite a lot has happened. (This is relevant to the issue, I swear!) Jack and Alice found an informant to help them continue Charlie's work, someone named Nicole seems to be head-over-heels for Jack, and I've learned that  Marduk and Medusa aren't so bad after all. I guess all I had to do was face my fears of supernatural beings like them.

See how that's relevant now? Not only do they see Charlie, Angelique, and I as true friends, but I hear they've come to view Charlie as every bit as strong as them!

But somehow, I can't shake this awful feeling…this feeling that we're about to be shaken up real bad…

Charlie tells me it's probably nothing, but if I know him, he was called to visit Tartarus a month ago for a reason…

THE END

***

"Love survives beyond our lives
I feel those ties growing stronger (Growing stronger)
Love survives the tears we've cried
Yes, love (Yes, love)
Survives it all
Love survives it all"

- Irene Cara and Freddie Jackson, Love Survives (from the soundtrack of All Dogs Go to Heaven)