The Final Appointment Book

The book had been so unassuming with worn edges, a pronounced crack down the spine, and black leather scuffed from use. The pages were yellowed, almost brittle, yet it seemed as though magic hummed through them preserving the book for future use. Noah had found it unobtrusively wedged between two seats on the subway. He had just filled his final insulin prescription using his parent's health insurance. In three days he would turn 26 and would be removed from their plan. His serving job did not provide health insurance and at $250 a vial for the life-saving insulin, Noah was beginning to feel the walls of desperation closing in on him.

Maybe that was why he took it. Normally he never would have given a lost book on the subway a second glance, but today was different. He needed something, some sense of purpose greater than himself, and the book had caught his eye. Reaching over, he slipped the book into his jacket pocket, warily glancing around to see if anyone would stop him. No one did. The subway ground to a halt and Noah exited amidst a throng of people. He made his way to his apartment, the wind clawing at the scarf around his neck with ferocious tenacity. The last of the autumn leaves stubbornly clung to their dead branches trembling in the cold. Winter was fast approaching.

He shut himself into his apartment with a sigh. A dim light flickered, causing shadows to dance upon bare walls. He shivered. It was cold in his apartment but he dared not turn up the thermostat. Instead, he sat on the second-hand couch his mother had given him, wrapped himself in a blanket, and opened the book. Gingerly, he began flipping through the first pages only to discover they were blank. Frustrated, he fanned through them more and more aggressively until he came to the end. Blank. He tossed the book onto the coffee table where it landed with its pages strewn open. Noah leaned back into the couch. He wasn’t sure why he felt so disappointed. What had he expected?

A trilling chirp came from his pocket. He pulled out his phone and turned off the alarm that reminded him it was time to check his blood sugar. Pricking his finger with the lancelet, he cursed softly as a drop of blood fell from his finger onto the open pages of the black book below. He grabbed the book with the intention of wiping the drop away when he noticed the blood had seemingly disappeared. Wondering if he had been mistaken about where the blood had landed, Noah looked intently at the coffee table below. Suddenly, the book made a low humming noise and Noah’s hand tingled with a strange energy. Alarmed, he cried out and dropped the book. It hit the floor with a soft thud and fell quiet.

Collecting himself, Noah tentatively reached down and retrieved the book. To his surprise, the once blank book was now filled with names, dates, and times written in a loose, flowing script. In utter bewilderment, he began leafing through the pages scanning through names when his blood turned to ice. There was his name with a date and time approximately three months from now. Heart pounding, he shut the book and dropped it back down on the table. He clasped his shaking hands together and began trying to rationalize what had just happened.

As his heart began to slow to a regulated rhythm, a brilliant light suddenly filled the room. Noah fell off the couch and threw his arm over his eyes, trying to shield himself from being blinded. The light dimmed and a genderless figure with eyes that were aflame stood in the middle of the living room. It was the most beautiful being Noah had ever seen.

“Who are you?” Noah queried, his voice trembling slightly with fright

The being answered with a voice that reverberated like thunder, “I am Death.”

Noah responded, “You don’t look how I imagined you.”

Death spoke, “Humans have always feared that which they do not understand. Your depictions of me have been unkind, but I have never been your enemy.”

“Why are you here?” Noah gasped with a sudden realization, “Oh my God, am I dead?”

Death shook their head, “You have my book.”

Noah gestured towards the coffee table, “Please, take it. I don’t want it.”

Death walked over, picked up the book, and turned to leave.

“I...I saw my name.” Noah stammered.

Death hesitated, “Yes. We have an appointment soon.”

A lump of dread found itself in Noah’s throat. He managed to whisper a single word, “Why?”

Death answered him bluntly, “You begin rationing insulin and die of diabetic ketoacidosis.”

Noah hung his head and a tear fell from the corner of his eye.

“Are you afraid?” Death questioned.

“Only for my mom and my girlfriend. I don’t want to leave them alone.”

“A selfless response.” Death reached over and gently touched Noah’s forehead. “Sleep.”

The phone alarm blared as Noah groggily attempted to turn it off. He glanced around the living room in confusion as he realized he had fallen asleep on the couch in the same clothes he had worn yesterday. Sitting up slowly, he reached for his glasses and the previous day’s events came rushing back to him. He laughed to himself as he cleaned the glasses and placed them on his nose. Surely it had been a dream. He began to stretch but stopped midway when a strange package sitting innocuously on the coffee table caught his eye. With shaking hands, Noah unwrapped the twine around the brown paper parcel and a large stack of cash fell onto the table with a thump. There had to be at least 20,000 dollars. An ancient, yellowed piece of paper sat on top of the money and written in familiar loose, flowing script was a note that read:

This should be enough to change your appointment.

-Death