Amavimus, Amamus, Amabimus (standard:drama, 4129 words)
Author: Santu	Added: May 01 2002	Views/Reads: 4154/2795	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Death comes for us all. Here is a story about one such incednet. All I ask is a word back so I can improve. enjoy.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

touched with a mysterious aura of mischievousness. 

“Yes honey. I was talking to myself. J. D., I am sorry I snapped at you
earlier. Mommy is just a little tired. Now if you two behave yourselves 
till we get home I'll order some pizzas for dinner. How dose that 
sound?” 

“With pepperoni?” asked J. D. 

“Yes with pepperoni” 

“You promise?” 

“Yes” 

Promise? 

Yes 

Really promise? 

Yes. Really. Really. 

“Remember momma you promised three times.” Said J.D. Triumphantly. 

This announcement was followed by big “Yeah” and big smiles from the
back seat that made Angela smile. Those smile from the back seat made 
her forget everything she was angry at. All was right with the world 
just then. 

(Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Hear that? That's your life ending...one minute
at a time) 

Fast forward. Stop. Play. Lets begin. Here? Or would you like to begin
there? Doesn't matter. Everything is the same. All goes in circle. It 
begins then ends at the same point. What's in between? Dose even 
matter? Ahh, now that's the real rub. 

“Patient is Dr. Walter Scott. Male and around Thirty-three years of age.
Occupation... Cardiac surgeon at the county General Hospital. Reason 
for visit... competency evaluation for continued practice as a surgeon. 
Request made by chief surgeon at the county hospital Dr. Tyler Durden. 
Therefore, the patient may appear apprehensive and defensive to start 
with. He is.....” 

A smart looking women rattle off details about her new patient to a tape
recorder. Her name is Dr. Anna Mosher. Her work on “community mental 
health” had shot her up to the top of her profession. She was called a 
pioneer and visionary, and was truly at the top of her game at this 
point. 

Click off went the tape player as the door opened to admit a slim
gentlemen of slender but powerfully built with a languid but graceful 
stride. His hair was combed rather carelessly to a side but failed 
diminish his good looks. He looked nothing the part of a Doctor. But 
his face was unsmiling. His eyes seemed more dead than alive. He gave 
out this aura of nothingness. A man with out a cause. Hollow and Dead. 

“Dr. Mosher?” said the man 

“Dr. Scott? Come in. My name is Anna Mosher. Please sit down”. Anna
Mosher was all business. 

“A couch? How cliché”. Walter Scott speech was modulated and educated.
Whatever notions his outward appearance gave his manner and speech made 
one sure of an educated man. 

“If you prefer you can take one of the other seats.” Mosher was Rather
taken aback. 

“No. as long as I here might as well play the part”. Walter sat on the
couch and stared at Mosher expectantly. 

“Yes. Well do you know why you are here?” 

“Yes”. Short and to the point 

“would you like to expand on that?” 

“Doctor Mosher shall we just put the formalities behind us and get to
the matter at hand. We both know why I am here. So let not waste  
either of our time talking about it” 

“O.K. I am going to record our sessions. It would be for my use only. Do
you mind?” 

“No”. 

( Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. That is her life ending one minute at a time.
Stop. Rewind. Play) 

”la life is unbelievable. La life is good life is good life. Life is
great. life is unbelievable. life is hard, life is cruel life is so 
beautiful...” 

The tune came on the radio. It was one of many annoying bands that seem
to be everywhere. 

“A mother sheds tears at the same time a baby is born. On the other side
of town a life is lost. A young thug was knocked off and the heat was 
tossed” the radio sang on. 

Isabella knew she had scored one on her brother earlier. With a
mischievous smile on her face she started making faces at her brother. 
The eternal one-upmanship played between siblings throughout their 
lives. Isabella was ready to press her advantage over her brother. 

J. D. saw what she was up to. Knowing the consequence yet unable to
control himself he reached out and pinched his sister. A Sharp cry 
escaped Isabella's lips and Angela turned to see what was going on. 

“You two promised ......J.D. you are............. 

That moment. One moment out of infinity. Van. Truck. Color lights. Red.
Crushing! Pain! The metal inside the van twisted and groaned. The 
window shattered. Screams! Flesh on metal. 

”la life is unbelievable. La life is good life is good life. is great
life is unbelievable. life is hard, life is cruel life is so beautiful 
oh yeah oh yea.” Radio sang on. 

The little van spun like a top and rolled. Bent into a boomerang shape.
Angela felt the van closing in on her. The sound of her bones crushing 
and metal piercing her body shot through her brain like currents in 
unceasing waves. All of this seems to happening in slow motions. Angela 
felt as if an onlooker witnessing some one else. 

(Pause. People think that when one is faced with a life threatening
situation, one tends to have this moment of enlightenment. A singular 
moment stretched out so long that you see your life flashing before 
your life. Finally you get to see your life on the big screen. I wonder 
how many would like it? I hope mine's a blockbuster. Bullshit. The 
moment you realize this could be it, I mean the big IT. The end. 
Farwell, Big goodbye. Adios. Hello God or for many of you out there the 
other guy, you are so surprised that you put on a really funny face and 
just stare unable to think or do anything. Frozen. It's like a bunch of 
people jumping out of your closet and yelling “SURPRISE”. When you just 
removed your underwear. All you can do is just stay frozen with a 
bloody funny look on your face. Hoping it is not you they are looking 
at. Dose this remind you of any other moment in your life? Got it? 
Play) 

Flash. Fade to Black. Silence.... 

When Angela came out of the blackness she was bit relived and even
happy. The pain that racked her body reminded her that she was alive. 
Alive. She was alive not dead. She tried to smile through her pain. 

(pause. Ok I know what you are thinking. What kind of mother thinks
about herself and is happy about her being live? happy when she doesn't 
know anything about her kids? For all she knows they might be dead. 
Well it's a human one. Self preservation comes first. First act of 
anyone is that same situation would be selfish not selfless. That why 
we immortalize the idea of a selfless person running into a fire saving 
some one's life. It our ideal not reality. But hey I could be wrong. I 
am sure you'd run into burning building when your own ass is on fire. 
Stop, Tuck and Role Hero. But This is my party and I'll do what I want. 
PLAY) 

But then, 

“My kids! J. D.? and Isabella? Oh my god what have I done” 

She felt herself being lifted on to a gurney. She saw a bunch of people
hovering over her like ghost. Saying incomprehensible things. Yelling 
at her or at least that what she saw. She tired to talk. But the 
paramedic just showed a tube down her. Then continued to inspect her. 
After all they are trying to save her life. Started pumping her with 
medication to ease the pain. 

(Litocane and Dopamine. Good stuff! Professional drugs always the way to
go. Why go for the illegal stuff when your doctor can be as equally 
helpful.) 

All the while all she wanted was them to stop just a moment so she could
ask them about her kids. That would have put her more at ease than the 
drug ever could. 

“Please, how are my kids? One word for god sake, please.” She fought the
tracheal tube gagging against it in a desperate attempt to ask. 

“It's ok miss. Everything is going to be alright.” Said one the
Paramedic, “ we are taking you to the hospital” 

“Nooo. You better not move me till you take my kids first. You bas.....”


the effects of the drug were instantaneous. Angela's world went black. 

(Stop. Fast forward. This is his life ending one minute at a time) 

“How do characterize your life so far?” 

“nothing extraordinary. But singular to say the least” answered Walter
without any emotion. 

“ok. Would you like to elaborate on that?” 

“no” 

“ok. tell me about your wife. How did you meet” asked doctor Mosher in a
flat tone. All the while scribbling in a note pad. 

“In High school. Her friends set her up as a gag date. Well anyway she
was a good sport about it and we wound up being friends. We met again 
college. That when we started dating for real. God, she was such a free 
sprite. That what I liked best about her. I was a bit intense back 
then. 

“Was intense?” broke in Dr Mosher 

“Ha, Ha. A little Shrink humor. Funny. Anyway She was ready for
anything. Wanted to be a writer and live in France eating croissants 
with snotty accent. Everyone liked her because she made you feel like 
the only person in the world when she was talking to you. I never 
thought she'd want to settle down. But when I found out I had to go 
away I asked her. In a temporary lapse of sanity she said yes. Then we 
had J. D. Then my career started to take off and she ended up writing 
from home and taking care of the kid. And the rest is as they say 
history.” Walter ended with a rather sad note. 

“Tell me.........” began Dr. Mosher 

(stop. Fast forward. In and out above and below. Tis nothing but a magic
show. Play'd in a Box whose candle is the sun, Round which we phantom 
figures come and go. Questions and answers. We all dance around what we 
really have to say.) 

“You said you and your wife had an argument that morning?” 

“yes. Silly one at that. I stayed out later than usual with my friends
the night before. I got a little drunk and she got angry at that” 

“and you think that had something to do with what happened?” 

deep sigh. Walter got up from  the couch and headed towards window that
over looked a park. He was quite for a time looking at the children 
playing with their parents. Dogs barking and Frisbee cutting through 
the air. 

“my son J. D. he liked to play succor. He is...was good at it. He said
he wanted to be like Pelay. You know the Argentinean succor player?” 

Dr. Mosher nodded. 

“well my wife wouldn't hear of it. She always wanted him to become a
doctor like me.” 

Dr. Mosher not knowing where this was heading carefully asked what this
had to do with the fight that morning. 

“Doctor, she wasn't really mad at me staying out late per say. It was
just starting point. You see I told J. D. that he should do what makes 
him happy and J. D. used that little nugget of advise when my wife told 
him to stop paying succor and concentrate on his studies more. So that 
added some gasoline to our little spat.” 

“Do you and her fight a lot?” 

“Not Really. I mean we do have our little fight but nothing serious. She
is the best thing that ever happened to me. The best...” sighing 
heavily. Still looking out the window. 

Finally he said, “ no I don't blame the fight for what happened. But I
do blame my self for not being there. If I had been there they would 
still be here. You know doctor that sometimes I play god with other 
people life. I mean I bring them back from death. I single handedly 
clutches of death. I helped so many people cheat death that sometimes I 
feel like I am beyond death. That I can conquer it every time. But I 
could do anything to help them. All I could do was pray. Just sat there 
and pray to God that they'd be all right. I guess I was finally caught. 
I couldn't lift a finger to help them. The people that mattered most to 
me, I couldn't help. ” 

Dr. Mosher looked to Walter and saw tiny beads of tears running down his
face. But he kept staring out the window. 

(Stop. Rewind. To deny death is to deny life. They are opposite side of
the same coin.) 

“I am sorry Walt. The impact was on his side. His seat belt twisted
causing him to choke. When the metal bent further it crushed his skull. 
He was dead before the van came to halt.” 

This was delivered by Dr. Benjamin Franklin in matter of fact way. No
emotion what so ever. No sympathy, just the plain facts like a news 
broad cast. Walter remembered doing the same a week earlier when a 
patient died just before the operation. Sad irony. 

“Oh my dear god. What about my wife and daughter?” Walter barely able to
talk. 

“Your wife suffered multiple fractures. Her hip was totally crushed and
one of her ribs punctured one the lungs. She has severe internal 
bleeding. We operated on her but could stop the bleeding. There was 
just too much. I don't think she'll make it.” 

World spinning. Something that was so far way was at the door. Never saw
that one coming. Life is funny that way. Lots of twist and turns. Just 
hang on and enjoy the ride 

“no. no. This can't be happening. This can't be happening to me. What
have I done to deserve this. Of all people why me, why me dam you. 
Answer me.” Walter to himself. 

“What about Isabella, my daughter?” Walter in a horse whisper. 

“Now she we are more optimistic about. She did suffer multiple fractures
in her right let. Her patella was totally shattered. She was a scar 
down her left side of the body that will never go away. But beside that 
she is doing fine. Walt, I believe she will need a knee brace and will 
always have a limp.” 

“can I see my wife?” 

“Yes. Walt I believe she wont last the night. She is partially
conscious.” 

“thank you.” Walter walked to emergency care unit where his wife. The
last picture Walter saw of his wife of the broken pieces of what once 
was. 

(Stop. Fast forward. tick-tock. Hear that? That is our lives ending one
minute at a time) 

“Lord take these two poor souls into your care. Bath them in your
love...” went on a priest. 

The Ushaia cemetery was filled with ladies and gentlemen in black. All
Family and friends. But to Walter it no longer mattered. 

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no
evil -- or the evil one -- for You are with me." We are in the valley 
of death and on the rocky paths. But we are not alone. Our Shepherd is 
with us...” 

“oh yea. Then why do I feel so alone. Why have you left me? Maybe there
is no God. If there is then maybe he doesn't care about us?” Walter 
told himself. 

They were standing in front of two caskets. In it lied two thirds of
Walter's whole life. And beside him in a wheel chair sat his whole 
life. A little girl with pig tails and a scare along on side of her 
face. Her leg was in caste. She was no longer the carefree girl. Her 
eyes like her father's were lifeless and dim. Like her father she was 
hollow. But unlike her father she was not dead. Life will go on for 
her. 

“...We don't know all that that place will bring, but we know that the
Lord we love will be there and that is enough. In the name of the 
father, the son and the holy sprite, Amen. 

The two caskets slowly began to lover into the ground as the priest.
Then all of a sudden a small voice rose from the crowd. 

“Daddy, why are they putting mommy and J. D. into the ground? Make them
stop. Please make them stop.” Isabella Scott said through tear the ran 
down her once rosy cheeks. 

“Isabella, mommy and J. D. have to go?” said Walter trying to find the
right words 

“Then I want to go with them. Tell mommy to take me too. Please daddy,
tell her to wake up and take me too. Why dose she take J. D. and not 
me?” said Isabella not understanding. 

The whole cemetery was quite now. Everyone holding their breaths and
tears in their eyes whishing they could help the little girl. 

“But why? Why can't she take us to?” 

“Isabella listen, mommy and J. D. are dead. Do you understand? you have
to understand?” said Walter in a last desperate attempt to makes 
Isabella understand something he himself had no idea about. He was 
angry with Isabella for asking such questions. But he was angrier with 
himself for not being able to answer them. He was angry because he 
could do anything to ease the pain and rejection Isabella felt. 

Isabella sat quite for a time. She looked on as one by one people came
up to the sinking coffins and laid flowers on it. 

“daddy?” Isabella finally breaking the silence. 

Walter turned and looked at his only daughter. He was afraid. He almost
knew what she was going to ask next. 

“Yes?” in a horse tone. 

“What dose it mean?” Isabella asked innocently. 

“What honey” asked Walter trying hard not to cry. 

“to be dead!” 

(dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. We all go back to where we came from. All
in a circle that is unbroken. All in a circle never broken. We all pay 
for eating a fruit we were never meant to taste. Stop. Fast forward.) 

“I would have given anything not to have that conversation with my
daughter” said Walter tonelessly still looking out the window. 

“What did you say to her?” asked Dr. Mosher 

“That I didn't know. What else can I say? So I told her the truth. Well
Dr. I think our time is up. Makes your report what you may. I really 
don't care anymore. Now if you excuse me I have a daughter to take care 
of, good bye” said Walter. Picked up his jacket and left the office. 

(tick-tock. Tick-tock. Hear that. That's my life ending one minute at a
time”) 

Year has passed since that fateful day. It was fall in Usaia. The leaves
turned golden brown hung from the trees like Christmas ornaments gently 
rustling with the wind. One leaf falls turning circles to join his 
brothers on the ground. Dust to Dust Ashes to ashes. 

The wind blew a faint sound of someone saying, "I go to prepare a place
for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and 
receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also." 

A man and his daughter were setting flowers in front of two gravestones.
Each holding on to the other tightly as if they were the only once 
left. 

“Dad don't be sad. Mom and J. D. are happy. So don't be sad.” said the
daughter to the man trying her best to make a father feel better. 

The father smiled a smile only father can give to their daughters. A
smile filled with love. 

“How do you know?” the father asked rather cynically grinning to
himself. 

“They told me so” said the daughter. 

The father just hugged the little daughter and cried. Cried like he has
never cried before. Release. Finally Release. 

On the gravestones was this inscription in Latin. 

“Amavimus, Amamus, Amabimus -- we have loved, we do love, we shall
love.” 


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