Chinese Okra - An Anthology

II. Playing God

In which a father/husband confronts a moment frozen in time as a truck hurtles towards their car with his entire family inside. Suddenly, Death presents a grim choice: only one can be saved.

*****

"Who among your family is most deserving of life?" Inquired Death, its voice hushed yet resonating in the eerie stillness. I surveyed my surroundings, only to witness birds frozen mid-flight, their wings suspended mid-flap. Even cars on the road stood motionless. My family, once filled with frantic screams, now stared wide-eyed like fish out of water. Silence enveloped us, punctuated only by Death's voice from above—or wherever its dwelling lay—and my erratic breath. Trapped in the driver's seat, I could only contemplate and attempt to comprehend the gravity of what had transpired.

An unforeseen surge of anger coursed through me, stirring my mind with unfathomable questions. "What if I choose for no one to die?" I exclaimed in frustration.

"Then you all shall perish," Death replied, its tone cold and devoid of emotion, as it should be.

"What if I sacrifice myself?"

"Then you all shall perish." Short, concise, and unambiguous, much like death itself, which arrives with a clear and concise purpose.

"What if I refrain from choosing at all? Wait, don't answer, because I'm certain—"

"Then you all shall perish."

Silence befell me.

Time remained frozen, yet the truck hurtling towards my car from the left would soon shatter steel and flesh when time resumed. It seemed that one of my family members must survive without us. One of them would awaken bewildered, alone, and terrified in a hospital bed, with fragments of memories. They might forget, be plagued by trauma, despair, or perhaps...

...find solace.

I believe my eldest son would find solace in his survival. But does he deserve it?

Day after day, he remains confined to his bed, making a routine of smoking and cursing vehemently at the universe. He occasionally unleashes his rage by punching the closet door, leaving marks, or even assaulting those who cross his path. Rarely does he venture outside, and when he does, it is solely to acquire things he never truly needs: alcohol, cigarettes, and more cigarettes, sometimes even resorting to those abominable rubber item. Knowing him as he is now, I am convinced that our imminent demise would gradually consume him, little by little. Eventually, as time ages him second by second, he will sink deeper and deeper until he succumbs to alcohol poisoning. Given his lack of genuine friendships, it seems my eldest son would find greater happiness in death.

With conviction, I concluded that my eldest son would perish. This leaves my wife, my youngest daughter, and me.

I believe my youngest daughter would find solace in her survival. But does she deserve it?

She studies diligently, a dutiful daughter to both her parents. She is the type of daughter other parents admire or boast about to their own children. She carries an immense burden of expectations on her shoulders. Sometimes, she weeps in solitude in her room, feeling inadequate, or mourns her own fortune in front of the mirror, yearning for her older brother to change for the better one day. In her mind, nothing she or anyone else believes holds true unless it emanates from her beloved brother's lips. I fear my youngest daughter will become a weary woman, blaming herself every day for our deaths, merely because we embarked on a family outing like countless others. Despite being loved by many, I suspect my daughter will never truly feel loved as long as her brother remains unwilling to share his love for her. If she survives, knowing she will never experience the feeling of being cherished by her brother, I believe she will be the most heartbroken woman in the world. She deserves to live, yet she does not deserve the immense pain that awaits her. It appears my youngest daughter would find greater happiness in death.

With a heavy heart, I resolved that my youngest daughter would perish. This leaves only my wife and me.

I believe my wife would find solace in her survival. But does she deserve it?

She is a loving wife, caring for our two children and respecting her husband. Despite the conflicts in our marriage, she understands that hatred and anger are distorted expressions of love. However, if we were to die, leaving her alone as an only child, she would have no one. My family disapproves of her due to her affluent and haughty background. Thus, reluctantly, she would have to relinquish the dignity she has painstakingly built—she would have to return to live with her despicable parents, who callously disowned her for the sake of an unfulfilled dream: marrying a wealthy man. It is a universal truth that parents eventually come to love their children, yet my wife has firmly shut the doors of our home to her own parents. Moreover, they did not even attend our wedding. Furthermore, her parents live comfortably in another country, unbeknownst to her. They have deemed me unworthy of their respect, and yet my wife steadfastly supports me, disregarding her parents' opinions. She deserves to live, truly deserves it, and I love her deeply. But I cannot bear to witness her self-worth being decimated by her parents. I cannot bear to see her question why she alone survived. I cannot bear to hear her weep through the night, grieving over her failure to raise her eldest child and lamenting her abandonment by her husband and youngest child. I do not want her to endure that agony. She deserves to live in peace. My wife would find greater happiness in death.

With a shattered heart, I resolved that my beloved wife would perish. This leaves only me, myself, and I.

Thus, I alone shall remain, the solitary being in this frozen realm of space and time, aware that I am the catalyst for the demise of my entire family. The only one granted the freedom by Death to pass judgment on the lives of my beloved kin. The only one who comprehends that if I survive, I will be consumed by rage, guilt, and unending tears, knowing that my family perished at my hands.

Do I find solace in allowing myself to live, aware that I am the cause of my family's demise?

I, who have just determined that my eldest child does not merit a second chance. I, who have just concluded that my youngest child does not deserve liberation from the suffocating grip of their older sibling. I, who have just resolved that my wife does not deserve reconciliation with her parents.

Then, do I deserve to live? Will I not simply wither away in slow agony? Will I not become the most sinful of humans for passing judgment on the lives of my family members? Will I not become the most rebellious soul on this earth? Will I not despise myself to the utmost until the end of my days?

I am a fool. I lack any understanding of the meaning of rights in any shape or form, yet Death forces me to become the arbiter. I am a fool because, in the end, I proclaim to Death that it is better for us all to die now. And shortly after, time resumes its course, and the truck on the left side of my car obliterates us, and shortly after, everything descends into darkness.

Perhaps, I, too, would find greater happiness in death.[]