Tree of Life

All Expenses Paid

West stumbled mindlessly through the dark. He’d forgotten when and where he was. He didn’t understand why the sun and moon had been extinguished. But he knew he had to get away.

A soft chittering pursued him.

“Who’s there?” West squeaked. “What do you want?”

The darkness didn’t respond.

“Oh, wretched fortune. Why is this happening to me?” His skin crawled. A myriad of small cuts wept blood. He’d lost his suit coat and one of his shoes. “How does a man lose a single shoe?”

Hollow laughter sent a series of quakes through West.

“What do you want with me!”

“You know good and well what I want, Westerly.”

West jumped at the closeness of a solid, human voice. “Earl!”

The Irish mobster flashed his butane lighter. His menacing, disembodied grin appeared suddenly, like the Cheshire cat. “Thought you could bury your head in a hole, did you?”

“No such thing.” West composed himself, almost glad to see the hit man sent to collect on his life. “I only fled in order to collect my recompense.”

Earl shook his head. “You talk like a fairy. At least do me the favor of dying like a man.”

“Education does not make a man soft.” West held up his hands in defense. “I merely meant to say, I admit my wrongs, and I’ve come here to collect all my worldly wealth and offer it to you as an apology.”

Earl scoffed. “You think money can make up for fingering me in court?” The mobster’s anger flared. He jabbed West in his already broken nose.

Tumbling backwards and flailing his arms, West knocked the lighter from Earl’s hand. The tunnel returned to pitch black. Before West could retreat, a foul breeze encompassed him. “Not again.”

A legion of fine, bristles rushed over and through him. When his eyes opened, blindness transformed to sight. The darkness remained, but its detail became illumination to him. He formed every outline of the crouching mobster—searching for his lost lighter.

“Curse you, Westerly. No more clowning. I’m gonna spend one more thought and two more bullets and be done with you for good.”

West lept to his feet. “Let me spare you the expense.”

Earl barely had time to look up.

West no more than thought the thought, and the mobster dropped dead. In seconds his body turned to dust. Tendrils from West’s feet consumed the dust and leached the stone clean. 

West felt both satisfaction and horror. His hatred encompassed Earl and himself, and everything else. “Indeed, the time for clowning has passed, as has all of human history.”