Buried in the Book

We weren't even friends. However, I found myself sitting in the fifth row, third person from the isle, thinking about how I would rather be playing Halo Ifinite with the insufferable jerk, than listening to his eulogy. The surreal vision of Jim lying in the casket accompanied by the muffled sniffles and hushed crying drowned the sermon like recanting of Jim Helmsman's great endeavors and his untimely death. It was getting unbearable.

I took my gaze off of Jim's lifeless body, turning it to his wife. She was unexpectedly composed sitting still beside Jim's sobbing her. It seemed a bit awkward to me. Maybe Jim's death hadn't hit her yet. Then again, I think that perhaps she saw a more distasteful side of Jim and was relieved by his death. With her ease of the situation, I would have said she killed him. Although, I knew she didn't.

In all honesty, Jim was overtly obnoxious. He was lucky to have had such a beautiful woman as his wife. I can't even begin to know how he got her or why she remained married to him for those ten years.

My thoughts were interrupted by everyone solemnly saying "Amen", then slowly standing as the family made their way to their cars. I watched as a crew of men closed Jim's casket, and carried it out to the herse. I was actually hoping he would pop out of the casket and start laughing at everyone that was crying.

He didn't.

I was ushered by an older woman to step into the isle so they could leave. A bit dazed, I did.

She put her hand on my back and with a heavy voice she said, "He was a good man." She nodded as she turned to the door.

I walked to my car, muddling over correcting her. I thought it best not to, at the moment. Everyone says that about a person that has just died. It was considered polite or respectful. I didn't agree. Not after the man had the audacity to die in my home like he did.

I parked away from the funeral persession. I wasn't going to the graveside service. I was going home. I needed to be away from people right now. I had a lot to process.

Why did he give me 20,000 dollars?

"You need some time to think things over," Jim told me.

The drive home seemed to drag on. My mind whirling over the conversation Jim and I had the night he died.

"Do you believe people are ultimately good?", he asked.

Me being used to his holier-than-thou attitude was kind of thrown by the innocent nature of his question. His demeanor shifted and was asking out of an earnest desire to know my opinion. I really didn't know how to answer.

He pulled out a chair at my small kitchen table and made himself comfortable. He was always good for overstaying his welcome. That had ended when he lagged behind and caused my character to die on the game. He told me, I should have waited on him. I would have, if he actually had a legitimate reason.

I made a left tun.

"I know that you really don't like me much." He added with a smirk, " I am not as arrogant as you think I am."

"You could have fooled me." My opinion being deep seated from the years of knowing him.

I stopped for a red light for two seconds then it was green.

He opened the folds of his jacket and pulled out a black notebook. Jim was great for dramatic flair with simple conversations. He always had props. This was the first time, I had noticed that he brought his own though.

" I put 20,000 in your account this morning. You are going to need some time to figure out your next move.", he began. "I know you lost your job because of cutbacks, you are behind on a lot of payments because you are sending money to your sister in Wyoming. "He placed the notebook on his lap, adding , "You shouldn't continue doing that, she is an addict and she lied to you about having a nephew. "

Jim was flat infuriating me at this point. I couldn't find words to even express the level of frustration and intolerance for him at that moment, but how did he know about my job? Why give me money? How dare he say that about my sister! He doesn't even know her.

Another turn, then it was straight until my turn into my driveway.

Jim could see my anger and confusion building. He laid his open palms on the notebook in his lap. I for a moment thought that this was an elaborate way to get me worked up. So I decided not to play along. " Uh-hu. So now you want a pat on the back for helping me out?", I shouted at him. I wasn't doing so good at hiding my feelings.

I had arrived at my home. I turned my car off and just sat there for a moment. Allowing all the events just to process.

Jim didn't even so much as laugh at me. He simply replied in a soft caring voice, " no,". He looked down at the notebook.

So many questions rolled through my head that night. Over half of them, I had forgotten now. What came out of Jim's mouth next completely floored me.

"I know you are the right person for this. I don't trust anyone else. " Jim said a little quieter. His voice was getting weak sounding as he continued. "This is a lot for a person to accept all at once, but I don't have much time. Everything I know about others is in this book. I can't explain the how or why."

Jim's eyes seemed to dim as he lowered them to the book is his hands. A quick smile glinted across his lips then faded. "Its a bit of a curse knowing so much," as he spoke a tear fell down his cheek.

He cleared his throat and regained a small amount of composure. "Anyways," his voice still weak. "Its yours to do as you wish. The only advice I have to give you is, don't trust anyone else with it and don't judge."

Jim held the notebook out to me. He raised his head ever so slightly, waiting for me to take it. I didn't even have a chance to step forward to grasp the thing before he slumped over in my kitchen floor in a rather undignified manner.

For a moment, I thought it was an elaborate joke. Yeah he had got me. Then...

He didn't move.

I hurried to him and rolled him over. No breath. No pulse. I called for an ambulance. They carried him out in a body bag.

I opened my car door, slowly, almost forcing myself out of my car and into my house. The past couple of days have been so blurred. Now I can recall every moment in sort of a carousel type playback.

The notebook. Where had the notebook gone? What was in it?

I unlocked my door, went inside, and shut the door behind me. I felt like I was shutting out the world for a moment. Walking over to the kitchen table, I remembered that Jim didn't even so much as cough or loose color that night. It was almost as if the moment he let go of the notebook, he just quit being alive.

I stared at the spot where Jim's body had been. A few feet away from that spot under a broken cabinet, I could barely make out the corner of a notebook.

I hesitantly went dig it out of its dusty hiding spot. Yup, I'm an idiot. I should have just left it there. No, I had to be curious.

I sat down in the same chair Jim did and opened the notebook. At first the pages were blank. I laughed to myself, but as I was about to shut it, words suddenly began to appear.

I read about how the lady who sat beside me drowned one of her siblings when she was younger, because he killed the neighbor's dog in a malicious way. I read about how the Preist giving the eulogy decided to teach others about God and love, because his father beat him ruthlessly, giving him a speech inpetament that took him years to correct, with the aid of another priest. I read how my old boss actually was a drunk and scared of his shadow. I read about how my sister actually had an abortion and the child in the pictures she was sending to me was a neighbor's child who she babysat for, and was still doing drugs.

The book went on and on about the people I knew, the people I hadn't met yet, and the people I would never know. All the dark secrets they bury in order to live their lives. Secrets that they wish no one ever knew. Secrets that I never wanted to know.

Jim had no right to give this to me. I hate him.