For Peter's Sake - 1. Chapter 1

The day Peter died began with a startled awakening from a frequent repetitive dream of a young boy running across a street chasing a fleeing blue and white soccer ball and being hit by a restored red ’57 Chevy Bel Air. He couldn’t ever remember where that image came from because he had never encountered that car at any time in his life. When he first had that dream way back on a snowy morning in his first year in college, his heart was beating so hard, so fast, he thought it was in its death throes.

The next thing to enter Peter’s mind was the final realization that his relationship with Andy had to end. There were so many reasons, he’d given up trying to sort out which ones were worse than all the others. Andy’s allergies were probably close to the top, if not actually first of everything else. The sex suddenly stopped nine months ago on a rainy Saturday evening. That was their regular day for sex, but Andy kept delaying his complicated way of getting ready for that mutual activity. Andy insisted Peter had encountered some until then allergen that was giving him a runny nose. To Andy nothing was worse than issues with his nose. They were no longer sleeping in the same room. Andy had the bedroom because this was his apartment. Peter was making do with a sleeping bag on the sofa. They weren’t eating the same food because, well, Andy was allergic to so many things Peter didn’t know what to cook. It had come to the point where Andy said he was eating elsewhere. Where that was, he refused to say. Peter couldn’t imagine Andy eating in a restaurant because the allergies would prevent him from exactly knowing what had gone into what was on his plate. Plus, there were all those other people in the restaurant.

All Peter needed was a plan. First, he had to figure out where he was going to live. Second, he had to figure out how much he could remove from the apartment before Andy noticed and made one of his super-emotional scenes. He wondered if he could move back in with Mother. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d done that. She was always saying that Willis could make up the mother-in-law apartment in the carriage house where Luis, the gardener, had his apartment. It certainly wouldn’t interfere with his writing. Plus, he could get a new dog.

There were people who liked cats, birds, fish, and houseplants. Peter was a dog person. It all began at his fourth birthday party when gentle Georgie, an overly patient and protective Great Pyrenees, came to him as a one-year-old puppy with a shiny green ribbon tied to her collar. She lived until he was fifteen and away at school. The call from Dad was with his normal icy-cold voice to remind Peter that Schneider men didn’t cry due to the death of a loved one or at any other time for any occasion that sentimental people were always crying. Dad also said they wouldn’t be replacing the dog with another. If Peter wanted a dog, he could wait until he had his JD and was working at one of the firm’s locations. Peter didn’t get his JD and was not working for the firm in some backwater city out West. Anywhere on the other side of the Mississippi was never included in Dad’s list of places not worth visiting, much less having an office. But all of those offices collectively brought in more than half the firm’s net income.

Instead, he went to a state university for a BA in English, then to another state university for an MFA in Fiction and Poetry and topped it with a PhD in English. He could be teaching at any college or university, but he found work as an editor and wrote poems and novels for fun because he was good enough to be published at a consistent rate of production. The only problem, of course, was Andy didn’t like him going to conferences or to the office for meetings because he might pick up some stray allergen. He had to get back when Andy wasn’t there, take a shower with a super hygienic soap Andy found online and wash his clothes also with a super hygienic detergent Andy also found online. Then two months ago Andy told him to start showering with that soap and wash his clothes with that detergent all the time. All the while making him buy those cleaners that cost much more than he felt necessary. Just one more reason Andy was ruining his life.

Of course, all of this meant one thing. Their relationship had hit rock bottom. Peter couldn’t see anything that might salvage it. All of this was making him feel lower than he’d felt in months. There was only one thing that might brighten his gloomy mood. A walk was in order. A long walk not in any particular direction. Maybe a sandwich and a beer at the end. No! That wouldn’t do. Only Laphroaig could fix this.

* * * *

The walk was long, but typical. North six blocks. East four blocks. North two blocks. West five blocks. Two laps around the pond at the zoo. South eight blocks to the old waterfront for Bab & Mick’s Wharf 33 Bar & Grill for that Laphroaig. Well, make that three. Plus, an order of grilled prawns with their “homemade” BBQ dipping sauce. How could you call anything “homemade” when it came out of a can from Peoria, Illinois? He’d been through Peoria once to visit Dad’s destitute Uncle Jess who lived in a tiny town in Western Indiana where some kind of oddball Christian sect ran a “home” for “odd” old people who couldn’t get care anywhere decent. Peter could still remember the slight disinfectant, puke and shit smell of the place. Uncle Jess lived until Peter was in that MFA program. Thankfully, he wasn’t on the invitation to attend the funeral as were the rest of the family’s “children.”

With his resolve renewed, Peter headed back to the apartment, intending to stop off at Whole Foods for fixings for dinner, breakfast, and tomorrow’s lunch. As he turned the corner to the grocery, he saw a youngish woman in a light blue sweater and faded blue jeans. She held a leash with the business end attached to the collar of a smallish Pitbull Mix of an obvious number of different breeds that were probably already mixed before a Pitbull was added. On the other hand, the woman was holding a cardboard sign.

For Sale

Gentle Dog

Name is Suzie

With Leash

$500 Cash

“What kind of dog food does she eat?” Peter asked.

“Whatever is on sale.”

“That certainly makes it easy. Can I go in and use the ATM? Won’t be a minute.”

“Sure, unless someone comes along with the cash.”

Peter zipped into the store. Unfortunately, Mrs. Alexander, who lived in his building, was standing at the ATM trying to decide what she was going to do with the machine. She was nice, but suspected Peter and Andy lived in sin in the same apartment building where she lived with a man always referred to as Mr. Exander. She knew something horrible must be occurring in their apartment on the third floor because it was a one-bedroom for God’s sake.

“Oh, hello, uh, Peter,” she said with her usual look of disgust, or was it simply a turd that hadn’t exited during this morning’s BM.

“Hi, Mrs. Alexander, do you need help?”

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Actually, I am.”

“Oh, I’ll cancel my transaction.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.”

“Oh, no problem at all. Is your, uh, what is his name? Oh, yes, Andy, isn’t it? Is he still having problems with his allergies? Here, it’s all yours.”

“Yes, he’ll have them until he dies,” Peter said as he put his card in the machine. “Hopefully, it won’t be the result of an extreme reaction to something unseen. That’s why he stays inside most of the time.”

“With all the advances in modern medicine you would think the doctors could do something for him. But I suppose they have rules that must be followed.”

“Yes, rules always seem to get in the way.”

“Have you been looking for a new apartment down out on the Point?”

“No, did someone say we were?”

“Yes, it was Andy who said something about something out there that might be coming your way. I am sorry, but I assumed you were moving. Doesn’t the city have housing especially for you there?”

“No, that’s up north in Three Lakes,” Peter said with a straight face. Why not have a little humorous fun with the homophobe.

“Maybe you could get an apartment with a view of one of them.”

“Yes, or probably one of the other buildings. I believe they have several depending on your reason for being there. Well, got my money. I’ll see you later, Mrs. Alexander, and I will tell Andy you had kind words for him.”

“Please wait a moment. You think there are others around here who should be living out there?”

“It’s certainly possible. One never knows until something abnormal occurs and they’re evicted. Then the social health people take them out to Three Lakes or give them a bus ticket to New York.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds realistic, I guess.”

Peter took a few deep breaths and mentally counted to twenty-five. Mrs. Alexander definitely required much more than ten. He walked out of the store and was relieved to see Suzie at the end of her leash.

“Am I still in the running for Suzie?” Peter asked as he walked up to the woman at the other end of the leash.

“Oh, yes, you’re back. I was beginning to wonder. Did you get the money?”

“There was another tenant of our building who wanted to chat.”

“Older woman, skinny, short grey hair, told me I couldn’t sell Suzie here. She said something about calling the ASPCA if I didn’t go somewhere else.”

“That would be Mrs. Alexander. A very opinionated person.”

“Do you have the money?”

“Yes, here,” Peter said holding out the five hundreds.

“Here’s the leash. See you around.”

“Thanks for the dog. Well, Suzie, I guess we’d better get you some food and treats. Suzie likes treats, doesn’t she? No? How about doggie cookies? That certainly helps. Do you think you’ll be able to help me find your favorite food and cookies? No? Well, let’s go see.”

Suzie had her preference among the choices of food. Canned didn’t elicit any response. She definitely knew her favorite bag of dry food. None of the cookies caused any reaction, so Peter picked a box that wasn’t organic, vegan, or gluten free. Neither the food nor water bowl caused a reaction, so Peter picked ones that would be easy to clean.

“New dog?” the checker asked.

“Yes,” Peter said.

“Did you get her from the ASPCA?”

“No.”

“Does she have a chip?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where did you get her?”

“Somebody outside.”

“She could be stolen. If I were you, I’d go to the ASPCA. They can check if she has a chip. If she does, you’ll have to see about getting her back to her real owner. Junkies steal dogs to get cash for their daily hit. While you’re there they’ll have her checked by a vet who’ll give her a number of injections. You don’t know what diseases she might have or if she’s current with her rabies shots. She doesn’t have a rabies tag or even a city dog tax ID tag. I’d say that is very suspicious.”

“Where is the ASPCA?”

“Any cabbie will know.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Peter said as he turned and walked out. “Well, Suzie, I hope God’s with us today. Oh, you know, Suzie, Andy might not want you to live with us. I’m sure with all his allergies dogs are probably on the list. We can only hope that isn’t the case because I’m beginning to love you very much. OK, first thing, we drop off your food and bowls at the apartment. Then go to the ASCPA.”

Peter was never one to pay much attention to his surroundings as he went around the city on foot and public transit. He hardly ever took a taxi anywhere. Even with Andy, who owned a car, he rarely paid attention to where they were going. Walking on the sidewalk was always an adventure as he stumbled his way tripping over uneven joints in the pavement from tree roots or just the settling of a nearby building. So, today, as he walked to the apartment talking to Suzie about this, that, and whatever was on his mind, he wasn’t paying any attention to the construction workers at the building next to his apartment building. They were in the process of hoisting a 20-foot-high-cube side-opening container where their tools were stored up to the roof. They were all standing away from where the container was rising out of basic safety sense. Unfortunately, nobody was paying attention to the man with a dog walking toward them. That is, until Peter saw a wooden barrier across the sidewalk directing him out into the street. Construction in the city was a common thing, so he didn’t pay any attention to the workers in the street.

He was a step away from being directly under the rising container when someone yelled, “Hey! You with the dog! Get out of there!”

Peter continued walking as his brain processed that warning. At the same time a number of wire strands at a weak place in the cable holding the container began to snap one after another until the few that remained couldn’t hold the weight and added to the fraying with a very loud SNAP!

“Get away!”

“Su—”

Peter didn’t have time to finish. He didn’t have to worry whether Andy was going to accept Suzie in the apartment. He didn’t have to go to the ASPCA to find out if Suzie had a chip identifying her real owner. He didn’t have to pay for her rabies shot and probably the other injections. Plus, he certainly didn’t have to worry about the hospital bill he would certainly have to pay because that container coming down weighed far beyond the maximum weight printed on its side. It was a shame that Suzie had to suffer due to Peter’s blatant inattention. Of course, there actually wasn’t any suffering for Peter or Suzie because their deaths were thankfully instantaneous as the container splattered everything between it and the asphalt pavement.

* * * *

“Andy Paulson, please.”

“Yes?”

“Detective Sergeant Benson, I need to speak with to you about your roommate Peter Knight.”

“Peter? Is he OK?”

“Can I come up?”

“Oh, sure.”

Andy pressed the access button and went to the door. He wondered what Peter had gotten into this time. If he would spend more time working on his short stories and more chapters for the novel, Peter might get more money than the pittance he usually earned that barely covered his half of their mutual expenses. He put on a new N95 mask and heard a rap on the door. He looked out the peep hole and saw a tall man with short blond hair wearing a rumpled gray suit. He opened the door a small gap and saw another younger man in a police uniform with a sergeant’s chevron pin on his collar.

“Yes?” Andy asked.

“Can we come in? I’m Detective Sergeant Benson and this is Sergeant Oliver.”

“Oh, sure. What has Pete done this time?”

“I’m afraid this is a more serious problem,” Sergeant Benson said. “They always give me highly emotional visits. Mr. Knight was the victim of a very tragic industrial accident while he was out walking the dog. Both were killed.”

“Oh, dear, I suppose you want me to go down to the morgue to identify him.”

“That won’t be required in this instance.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Knight’s wallet, clothes, shoes, and the dog’s leash and collar were the only identifiable items.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Peter was walking down the sidewalk and had to walk out in the street because some construction workers had the sidewalk blocked. While Peter was out in the street a twenty-foot container was being lifted to the roof of a building that was having some floors remodeled. Unfortunately, the container was overloaded with equipment and the cable from the crane appears to have been damaged during a previous job. The combination of the overload and the faulty cable caused the cable to break, and the container plummeted to where Peter was walking.”

“Oh, dear God, that is beyond imagining.”

“His remains are down at the morgue. I suggest advising the funeral director of Knight’s condition. The dog is being held for disposition by his next of kin.”

“The dog? You keep talking about a dog. We do not have any pets.”

“She was with Mr. Knight.”

“I have so many allergies, so I wonder what he was doing with a dog. He must have been walking it for a friend. I guess I should call his family. They may want to get involved with the funeral. Not that they’ve had much interest in our lives since our marriage years ago.”

* * * *

“Did something just happen? Where’s the city? What is this weird light? Why is it so foggy? Oh, Suzie, you’re here with me, wherever here is. I guess we should go see if we can find out what’s going on. But what direction should we go? Oh, Suzie, do you know? OK, I’ll go wherever you’re going. Why is it that dogs sometimes seem so much more intelligent than people? On the other hand, maybe, Suzie really doesn’t know and is only acting on instinct. Maybe, we’ll encounter someone who knows what or where this is.”

* * * *

Isn’t that a fine howdy-do.

He was not scheduled for removal until years from now.

Where did the dog come from?

You two were not watching him.

We can’t watch everybody who decides to take a walk.

He wasn’t in authorized territory. You should have requested assistance.

Who will notify the dog’s real owners?

That is not in our job description.

You two are on random patrol today.

We were watching the apartment building.

We didn’t know he was going to buy a stolen dog.

The dog’s owners must be notified.

We don’t do that.

That is done by others.

We could go to the powers that be for help.

They will not be happy.

They are not concerned about pets.

We could phrase the request specifying the man.

If the powers that be acknowledge the man, they will ask about the dog.

How about an anonymous note in an e-mail?

You know that the powers that be do not send or receive e-mails.

How else can we contact them?

Direct contact is the only permissible action.

What are you three up to now?

A man in our herd unexpectedly died.

We asked what are you up to this time.

Unfortunately, a dog also died.

I told them you were not concerned about pets.

Does this pertain to the falling container?

We didn’t cause that.

We didn’t put the man and dog there.

I told them you were not concerned with pets.

What was he doing with the dog?

He bought it from a street person.

The street person stole it from a dog walker.

Did he live by assumptions?

Sometimes, well, in reality most times.

He was having trouble with his husband.

Who is in a relationship with another.

Did you watch the husband frequently?

Not me.

Me either.

I had other responsibilities.

You will share twenty thousand demerits.

Have they been counseled about their demerit total?

Reassignment will clear their balance.

They will be separated, and each will be moved to locations where they can be of use but, hopefully, not get into any more trouble.

What about the man and dog? In the beginning, the man was a believer. As stolen property, the dog should be put where its owners could claim it upon their death.

The dog will accompany the man into the Hereafter. The dog’s original owners are devout believers and will go to their reward. The dog cannot accompany them there.

* * * *

Peter was sitting on one of those flimsy plastic chairs that you find in waiting rooms of people who didn’t spend the extra money for cushions or armrests. There was light but it was such that he couldn’t see anything around him. He could barely hear anything with the din of talking in different accents of English and other languages all around him. With the near blinding light, he couldn’t see who was talking. Suzie was lying on the floor with her chin on his left foot, but he could barely see her.

“Peter Reginald Jerrod Knight?”

“Yes?”

“You have a dog with you who you named Suzie. That is not her real name. Technically, she is stolen property. Her true owners are not scheduled to go to their reward for many years. As such the dog’s spirit normally would be reincarnated into a new dog. However, as she has claimed you as her present owner, she may accompany you into the Hereafter. Do you wish to have Suzie continue with you in the Hereafter?”

“Is this Heaven?”

“No, this is the Hereafter. Since the dog deceased in your presence, she is eligible to remain with you in the Hereafter. Do you wish her to accompany you in the Hereafter?”

“Yes. Where is this?”

“There are a number of locales for your continuance in the Hereafter that coincide with Suzie’s locales. Do you wish to know them? Your choice must be Suzie’s choice before moving on to placement.”

“I guess so. I never expected it would be like this.”

“Option One: a city park with lots of mown grass, a large variety of trees, a number of lakes and ponds, creeks and small streams of water, fountains in the ponds, paths for walking, benches for sitting, discs for throwing and catching, tennis balls for throwing and chewing, happy young children to play with, and treats. For you there will be others like you for conversations. Does this sound like something you will enjoy in the Hereafter?”

“This will be forever?”

“This is the Hereafter. We are eternal here. You have elected to have the dog accompany you. Dogs do not accompany owners to the higher or lower planes beyond the Hereafter.”

“That sounds fair.”

“Are you willing to not hear the other options? One of them could be the one that Suzie desires.”

“What could be better than an infinite park?”

“If you do not choose, and Option One is not Suzie’s choice your relationship with Suzie will be severed and you will spend the Hereafter somewhere very much not a walk in a park.”

“OK you win. Let me hear the other choices.”

“Option Two: An ocean beach with big waves pounding the sandy shore, miles of water-soaked sand, driftwood to play on, birds of all kinds to chase, tall sand dunes to play on, clumps of small trees and tall grass to play hide-and-seek, and warm starry nights to sleep under.”

“That’s interesting, but Suzie is a city dog. I can’t imagine her wanting an endless beach forever.”

“Could it be possible that her real owners took her to a beach? Maybe, they had a vacation home at a beach.”

“Why won’t you tell me what she wants?”

“Your continuance in the Hereafter is predicated on whether you are willing to follow the rules.”

“Are there any other options?”

“Yes, but none of them are desired by Suzie.”

“In other words, it’s an infinite park or infinite beach.”

“Those are the options.”

“I’ll go with what Suzie wants.”

“Not a betting man, huh?”

“I’m dead. What could be worse?”

“Trust me, there are planes in Hereafter and beyond where those formerly alive would not wish to exist for all eternities to come.”

“So, there is that.”

“What is it? Park or beach?”

“I’m open to either one. Why do I have to choose hoping it’s the same as Suzie’s choice?”

“We hope you will enjoy your forever in the Hereafter.”

* * * *

It was a traditional weathered bronze park bench with a painted wood seat. Peter sat at one end while Suzie lay at his feet. At the other end sat an incredibly old man with white hair, beard, and a brilliant white toga. The bench sat atop a low sand dune above weathered driftwood. Before him, Peter watched large ocean waves coming in, breaking on an offshore sandbar and continuing up onto the gray-sandy shore.

“Tea?” the old man asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Peter said. “I wonder if this is the kind of beach Suzie had in mind. I was thinking it would be something more along the lines of Nantucket or Martha’s Vineyard.”

“We can’t get everything right all the time. Certain assumptions are always made to accommodate those in the Hereafter.”

A small tray appeared between them floating about a foot above the bench. There was a steaming blue and white porcelain teapot, two cups on saucers, a matching bowl of sugar with a polished silver spoon and a small pitcher of what Peter assumed was cream.

“I suppose this is a step down from Heaven,” Peter said.

“No, it’s much more than that,” the man said as he poured out Peter’s tea. “Sugar? Cream?”

“No, I take it straight.”

“Good man. I suppose you also take your whiskey straight.”

“Laphroaig is my brand.”

“Ah, yes, Islay water and sea salted air are my choice too, though from a different island.”

“Hmm, English breakfast is my second favorite tea, after Earl Grey,” Peter said after taking a sip of the tea.

“I’ll make a note of that,” the old man said. “That is if you’re here next time. What are your plans today?”

“I think I’ll take a walk down the beach.”

“A word of caution, the luncheon buffet is set out promptly at noon. Miss it and you’ll have to wait until supper.”

“I’m dead. Why do I need to eat?”

“You are dead, but that isn’t any reason not to enjoy a good meal. Plus, we have the very finest wines and stronger libations for our nightly soirées. I’ll advise those responsible you’re an Islay connoisseur, though you can’t expect Laphroaig every night. Low inventories are something we try not to incur. You’ll be able to meet with others coexisting on this little plane of the Hereafter.”

“So, the sun does go down here.”

“Not exactly, but we’ll talk about that later. You will have many questions, and I will endeavor to answer them to your understanding. Do enjoy your walk.”

“Come on, Suzie, let’s take our walk,” Peter said after placing his teacup and saucer on the floating tray. He stood and looked to his right where in the distance he could just make out a jetty extending out into the ocean. To his left he saw low cliffs topped with what looked like some kind of conifer, which he supposed were species of spruce having seen them during a summer vacation trip to the Pacific Ocean along the West Coast of Washington State, including the coastal portion of Olympic National Park. Offshore there were similar trees on top of two small islands. If there was a rocky shore that way, there was a chance of exploring tidal pools with Suzie. Maybe, she would like that.

Speaking of Suzie, she was already running toward the incoming waves. She ran back as a wave washed up onto the beach. Peter could see she was going to do this all the way toward those islands.

And then Suzie was gone. And Peter wasn’t there either.

* * * *

Peter was on a tropical island that wasn’t that big. The beach was white-coral sand. Palm trees were a background to the beach. There was a variety of low scrub flourishing behind the palms. Suzie was nowhere in sight. It took Peter a couple days to figure out he could walk around the island in about a day but, since the sun never set in the Hereafter, he never figured out how long a day lasted. The sky was a constant blue without a sun. The ocean waves broke out at the edge of the reef. The lagoon was filled with waves never taller than a foot and they merely lapped at the shoreline. There wasn’t any fresh water either but, since Peter was dead, there wasn’t a need for water.

The only fault Peter could see was that he was utterly alone. If he was alive, he would likely go crazy from loneliness. He definitely was not a Robinson Crusoe.

Strangely, there were two park benches on the island. One under a palm overlooking the lagoon. The other was in the middle of the island where there was a small clearing with a small pond with koi. Peter couldn’t see any reason for the benches. They were too short to sleep on, not that Peter needed any sleep. Also, no one, such as that old man in the toga he saw on the first day, ever came to the island. After a short forever, Peter began sitting on the bench in the clearing more and more. He couldn’t think of anything to do. Death was getting to be the most boring place he had ever been. What was really aggravating was the coconuts falling out of the palm trees. He didn’t have any tools to open them but, realistically, there was no reason to do that. He hadn’t been hungry since arriving on this island or any time since dying for that matter.

Finally, Peter decided he had to do something about being bored out of his mind. That something turned out to be keeping track of the number of times he circled the island. He recorded this with dried palm fronds. Of course, he couldn’t make curves need for zeroes, twos, threes, fives, sixes, eights and nines. That was OK because the look of the numbers didn’t matter. Who was going to complain?

Around the 300^th trip, Peter decided to alter his route by crossing through the island and creating a figure eight that required recording those trips on the opposite side of the island. At this point in his residence on the island, he was willing to do anything to break the absolute boredom of being stuck in this Lutheran version of Purgatory. Luckily, it wasn’t cold and snow blowing horizontally.

That definitely wasn’t meant to be a wish, but someone or something somewhere had a sense of humor because Peter found himself sitting naked on an ice-cold rock on top of a low hill in a blizzard. The wind was deathly cold, which didn’t make any sense because he was dead.

“Can I ask what in the Hell is going on here?” Peter asked. “Is anybody there? I thought I was supposed to be on a beach. Everything is frozen here. And it’s cold. Anybody?”

* * * *

This is funny. Have you ever seen a more pitiful soul?

I have to admit you’ve done it this time.

But what about the powers that be? Aren’t you afraid they will notice?

What are they going to do? Send us back to the coal mines? That certainly didn’t work.

What is this? Who is supervising these three. They were supposed to be separated. Where is the dog? The dog is supposed to be with the man.

IS THERE A PROBLEM HERE THAT SHOULD BE BROUGHT TO OUR ATTENTION?

These three were supposed to be separated and sent to where they wouldn’t be troubling. The Powers That Be were going to handle this. There is a dog spirit missing. It was with this man on a simulated Pacific Ocean beach. It was with this man on a beach. The dog was taken to wherever these three put it. The man was put on an island that was part of a tropical atoll. And now he is in a blizzard fully aware of the cold.

THIS ISN'T THE FIRST TIME WE HAVE HAD TO DEAL WITH THESE THREE.

They have a habit of subverting authority.

THEY HAVE CEASED TO BE.

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE POWERS THAT BE.

THE MAN AND DOG HAVE RETURNED TO THEIR PLACES IN THE HEREAFTER.

* * * *

The park bench on the low dune overlooking the breaking surf was still there. Peter was sitting at one end with Suzie at his feet. The old man was at the other end. The tray with the tea service floated between them.

“Ah, you’re back. Tea?” the old man said.

“Yes, hmm, Earl Grey, thank you,” Peter said as he took the cup and saucer. “The aroma is something you can’t forget.”

“I felt you would appreciate this, considering. The dog was with us in your absence.”

“Thank you for that too.”

“Any plans for your day?”

“I’ll do whatever Suzie desires. And be back for that lunch you mentioned before.”

“That is a very good plan. After all, this is the Hereafter.”

Suzie got to her feet and then stretched her back. She looked up at Peter, but he seemed lost in his mind. He was talking to that other one who had those cookies. She didn’t know where this beach was, but she did know it was a fun place to be. She especially enjoyed chasing all the different sea birds that seemed to enjoy playing with her because, well, everyone and everything here was dead.

The End