Sweet Mystery of Life

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His vision was locked firmly on the road ahead, eyes somewhat widened as if to increase their range of vision. Perspiration poured out of his forehead and trickled down his sideburns into his beard. He wasn't aware of the wetness all the way down his spine - not while his back was pushed so hard into the driver's seat. He didn't realise how tight his grip on the steering wheel, until his fingernails dug into the base of his palms.

This time, he thought desperately. I won't fail this time. I WON'T! And in his last conscious moment, Nils saw the huge stobie pole lit up by his headlights, its steel supports and concrete infill consuming his final vision before impact, blotting out all else.

Thick white clouds surrounded him, supported his weightless body... floating, ever drifting... somewhere. Heaven? he wondered, and smiled with supreme satisfaction. There IS something after Death. They were wrong, those who doubted. And his mind drifted along with his body (or whatever it was he had now) - Bitch! he suddenly thought. That'll goddamn teach you to run off... with an OLDER man?

"Mr. Jensen. Mr. Jensen. Can you hear me, dear?" Nils didn't mean to frown, but the voice was an irritation to his idyllic flotation. Go away, leave me alone. I'm happy at last, can't you see? he thought. But no, the voice persisted until he realised he would have to answer. I thought heavenly voices would be more sweet and tuneful, lilting - uhrr, something like that. And Nils struggled through countless layers of gauzy-seeming veils to open his eyes and respond.

The next words brought him instantly awake and conscious of the reality that surrounded him. The smell of antiseptics and medicines - a hospital? He couldn't move his head, but he could roll his eyes all around and see he was indeed in a hospital room - a hospital bed. And the voice came from a white-uniformed young thing with a cap on her head. A nurse! And she was telling him he was lucky to be alive. Lucky? NO... NO!

Later, Nils would learn he was considered incredibly lucky to have only received concussion and severe bruising from the terrible accident that had 'written-off' his car - suitable only for crushing in the wrecker's yard where it now waited its turn. "But how did I survive? Why?" he asked out loud, and when they told him he'd forgotten to put on his seatbelt, and had been thrown clear, he screamed inwardly - NO-O-O-O-O!

As far as he was concerned, the only good thing to come out of this attempt was that it was assumed to have been some mechanical failure on the part of the vehicle, and he missed out on another stint in the mental institution. Phew, don't know if I could've survived another stay at that hell-hole - and then laughed at the irony. That first time, he'd tried to end it all by shooting himself.

Back then the gun laws were still fairly lax, and he'd bought his weapon without arousing suspicion. In the comfort of his home, he'd arranged himself comfortably in his favourite chair, pointed the muzzle under his chin and with a huge intake of breath, pulled the trigger. The one thing he hadn't taken into account (dammit!) was that his arms were a little short for the job, which messed up his aim, and caused the bullet to come out again just under his nose. Sadly, that left quite a hole in his face, despite lengthy surgery and painful skin grafts from other unmentionable parts of his body - and that's not all. The errant bullet smashed his quasi-chandelier overhead light and left a nasty hole in the ceiling of his Lounge room, too.

It's hopeless, Nils thought as he recovered. A person can't seriously kill himself in this country. I'm going back to Denmark to get it all over with. That's where I was born, and maybe the message is - that's where I must die. And he packed his bags, flew home and booked himself into the Presidential Suite of the Copenhagen Hilton. Might as well go out in style, he reasoned, and went out briefly to the local Retravision store and bought all the necessary electrical plug, wiring and wire strippers. He briefly considered ordering up a feast for his last meal, reasoning he would never have to pay for it, but for one reason or another, he seemed to have lost his appetite. So instead, he ran himself a luxurious spa bath, and tipped in double the amount of Hilton-provided bath specialties for aroma and bubbles. Just as he started to subside under the bubbles, holding the live wires high above his head to go in last, there was a monumental power break!

I've burnt all my bridges, Nils thought, as he remembered all the bills he hadn't paid, in anticipation.

In desperation he decided to simply drown himself, and slid beneath the foaming water. At least I'll smell good when they find me, was his last thought. But no. Fate had other plans for our 'not-so-nifty-Nils'. A waiter arrived with a bottle of Champagne in an ice bucket - 'Compliments of the Management'. Hearing the final gurgles of the unlucky man, the waiter rescued Nils and kept him alive until the ambulance arrived to whisk him off to hospital.

While in hospital, being treated for a critical case of over-abundant air inhalation (apparently it was the double dose of Hilton-provided-ultra-special bubblebath solution that did it), resulting in a rather nasty case of pneumonia, exhaustive tests revealed he had Cancer, and he was given just two months to live. Now wait right there a minute, Nils apparently thought. It had been one thing when he was in control, choosing Life or Death as the mood took him. But this? It just didn't 'sit' right with him.

He discovered his nurse felt great sympathy and empathy for him. She was also a devout Jehovah's Witness, which gave Nils something else to think about. He figured he'd most likely burnt his bridges in the prayer department, having mostly begged for the opposite of most people who chose Life. So, figuring he had nothing too much to lose, he sang the song,

Nursie, come over here and hold my hand

Nursie, there's something I can't understand

'Round my heart I've got a funny pain

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! It's coming on again

It turned out that was only indigestion, but nonetheless, the kind nurse promised to ask her whole congregation to pray for him, and they did. All six JW's there were in Denmark. No-one will ever know for sure whether it was divine intervention, but Nils died at last - fifty nine and a half days later, of a Vitamin C overdose.


*Author's Note: You may think my imagination has gone over the top with this one. You're wrong. Almost all of this truly happened - many, many years ago. I have simply stitched a little creative embroidery around the edges!

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