A Chance for Redemption

"It's simple," he explained. "Because you sacrificed your own life to save these two, I'm going to give you the chance to go back and redo some critical moments in your own life. Five critical moments if you must know because your kind always asks. You see, Derek, your life can all be boiled down to a series of decisions. Those decisions, for better or worse, decide the course your life is going to take. Some are small and seemingly inconsequential, but they have ramifications that will last as long as you draw breath. And you, Derek, have a habit of making a lot of bad decisions. There is more to you than what you have become."

I didn't know how to respond to that. My ego was quick to form a retort, and I was about to launch into an angry reply about how I was happy with the choices I'd made in life. My conscience on the other hand knew that those words would be total bullshit. The fact of the matter was that I knew I'd made some shitty choices in life. My current lot was the result of too many bad choices, and my life was decidedly unhappy because of it.

Maybe Barry had a point after all.

"All right, I'm listening," I said. "So I get to go back in time and redo five critical moments you say. Who decides the moments?"

"I do," replied Barry. "I won't have you wasting my gift on stupid choices like whether or not to attend that Nickelback concert back in middle school." Barry recoiled in disgust. "Seriously, Derek, what were you thinking?"

"What? They were good at the time!" I argued.

"They were never good," said Barry with a raised eyebrow. "But in any event, I'll decide the moments. Trust me, it's just easier that way."

"Okay, so you decide the moments and I go back and redo them," I said. "What happens if I make the wrong decision?"

Barry shrugged. "Then your journey ends there and you go back to the hospital. You'll have no recollection of ever meeting me and you'll dismiss any similarity to a trick of a mind."

"That sounds terrible," I replied. "So I have to get this right every time or else?"

"Every time," Barry repeated.

"That's an awful lot of pressure, don't you think? I mean what if I just decide not to play your little game? What if I choose to say sayonara to you right now?"

Barry gave me a stern look. "Then you wind up back in your hospital bed where no one will come to see you besides your mother. And then you'll likely die on your own without being able to take advantage of this incredible gift."

My palms started to sweat at hearing that one. Again, my ego wanted to argue but my conscience knew he probably had a point.

"You drive a hard bargain," I said, repeating an often used sales gimmick.

"You're not the only one that's trained in sales," replied Barry with a subtle grin. "I've been dealing with your kind for thousands of years. I've picked up a few tricks along the way."

"Thousands of years?" I asked with a heavy gulp. "Just how old are you anyway?"

"Old enough," he quipped in response. "So I've seen a lot of shit. So don't think you can pull any fast ones on me now, Derek. I've seen them all."

I knew well enough not to push him on this topic. Barry had a look on his face like he wasn't joking around.

"So what do you say, Derek? Are you in?" Barry extended his hand.

"I suppose I'm in," I said, taking it tentatively. "What other choice do I have after all?"

"Don't worry," said Barry. "I think you'll find this isn't as bad as you think. Look on the bright side—you could be dead right now."

"Aren't you a cheery one," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" asked Barry with a disapproving look.

"Nothing. So where do we start?" I asked. "What's the first moment?"

Barry cleared his throat. "For our first moment, I'm going to take you back fourteen years ago. But I have to warn you, you might not like what you see."

He snapped his fingers and the same airburst that happened when his wings came out happened again. I closed my eyes until it was over but the movement occurred in the space of a heartbeat.

"You can open your eyes now, Derek," said Barry finally as the air around us settled.

I took one tentative sweep around the room and figured a mistake had been made. We were still in the hospital. I could still smell that same sterile scent, and I could hear the beeping of equipment. It wasn't until I realized it wasn't my room that I began to pay more attention.

Especially to the person laying in the hospital bed.

"Dad," I whispered as I took a tentative step toward him. He looked worse than the last time I saw him, much worse. His hair was gone, replaced by a blackish stubble that covered most of his head. His eyes had a hollow and sunken quality to them. He didn't look like the same man I remembered at sixteen, that's for sure.

But all of a sudden, I knew exactly why I was here.

"What happened to your father, Derek?" asked Barry as I felt his presence step beside me.

"Pancreatic cancer," I croaked. "He died when I was sixteen. It was rather sudden and he declined quickly."

Barry nodded quietly before turning toward me. "Do you know why I brought you here?"

I couldn't speak for fear that I might start crying. I nodded instead.

"You never said goodbye to him, did you?" asked Barry.

"I want to go back," I said angrily as I stepped away from the bed. "This is too much. Is this what you're going to do to me? Torture me with my deepest regrets?"

"Is that how you perceive this, Derek? Torture?" Barry shook his head. "This is enlightenment. This is the chance to fix the wrongs of the past."

"By reliving this terrible moment?"

"Byfixing this terrible moment," he corrected. "Why didn't you go see him before he died?"

"You're the all-seeing angel! You tell me, asshole," I said, wiping the tear from my eye.

Barry didn't respond but I took another step closer to the bed.

"Dad?" I whispered. "Can you hear me?"

"He can't hear you yet," said Barry. "Only I can. But it might help for you to come to terms with your reasons for not seeing him before I give you the chance to relive it."

"You want to see me breakdown? Fine," I said while wiping my nose again. "I didn't come see him because he tore our family apart. He was the one that left my mom so he could begin to date another woman. He's the reason we had to pick who we wanted to live with. My mom was so angry with him for breaking up our family. She said the cancer was a punishment on him for doing so."

"Your mother can be quite a vindictive person, can't she?" asked Barry quietly.

I nodded as I blew my nose. "I didn't know until after he died how much of a hell she made his life. Once he was gone, she took it out on us kids. She was emotionally abusive, and my older sister said she used to smack the shit out of dad when he came home from work late. As I grew older, I couldn't say I blamed him anymore. I would've left her crazy ass too."

We both turned our attention back to my father. He began to groan as he searched around for a spare bedpan. He found it only seconds before vomiting, emptying the contents of his stomach inside it. I flinched just from watching it.

"I know I should've went to see him," I said through tears. "It kills me to watch him struggle in here alone without his family. I was so angry at the time. I couldn't think straight because my mother manipulated every thought I had. I thought it was justice not going to see him." I hung my head in shame. "It's only later on that I saw it was just foolishness."

Barry nodded. "Here's your chance, Derek. I'm going to send you back to say goodbye. Correct the wrongs." He snapped his finger.

All of a sudden, Barry was gone. The hospital room around me seemed to fill with color again, having lost most of its quantity in the purgatory world we'd just been in. I felt alive again, a sense of self I hadn't felt since I was last behind the wheel of my car.

My presence was noted for the first time.

"Derek?" asked my father. "Derek, you're here?"

I had a hard time keeping the tears back as I rushed to his bed. "I'm here, Dad. I'm sorry it took me so long but I'm here."

My father smiled like it was the best day of his life. There was something innate about seeing a parental smile that made every child crave it. Once rewarded, nothing else seemed as bad in comparison.

"I didn't know if I would see you before . . ." He stopped talking, not needing to finish the sentence. We both knew what he meant. "It's just really great to see you now. I've missed you, Derek."

"You have no idea how much I missed you," I replied, thinking of the fourteen long years it had been since his passing. Although to him, it had only been half a year since he moved out. "How are you feeling? Are you all right? Any pain?"

"I've been a lot better," he said before running his fingers across his prickly head. "I miss my hair, that's for sure. And this chemo is kicking my ass but they say it's the only option. I don't know, Derek. If I had known what it was going to be like, I think I would've just taken my chances."

"At least it gives you a fighting chance though, right?" I said. "It's better than nothing."

Dad let out a sad smile. "I don't think I had much of a chance as is."

I didn't know how to respond to that. The words just wouldn't form in my mouth. I kept trying to swallow but my mouth was dry and it was starting to make my throat hurt. I kept trying to picture him as the strong and youthful father that he was but I could only see the broken man laying on the bed. I wondered if I looked as bad in my own hospital bed but I knew he probably had the edge here.

I was brought back to reality as his hand draped over mine. "Derek, I want you to have something. I know I may not have a lot of time left." As if to emphasize the point, he let out a terribly hard cough. "But there's something I want you to have."

His hand went to his other wrist and pulled off the watch that he was wearing. He examined it for a few tense seconds before depositing it into my hand. "I know it's not much but that watch used to belong to my father. I don't know how but it's still ticking after all these years. I thought I would have a long time before we had to have this conversation." He started choking up at that point which brought my own tears streaming back. "In any event, I think a son should always have something that belonged to his father. I want you to have that just in case . . . just in case I don't make it."

The tears were flowing freely now, but I grabbed the watch tightly and held it against my chest. "Don't say that, Dad. You're going to beat this. You're going to get through it. You're going to . . ." I stopped, not being able to finish the lie. My brain reminded me that this really was the end for him. I couldn't form the words when my mind knew better.

My father smiled knowingly despite the pain. "It would still make me feel better if you had it. I already feel like a weight has been lifted just knowing you have it."

"I'll keep it forever, Dad," I promised.

The words seemed to mollify him temporarily but not forever. "Listen, Derek, I know that things aren't the greatest between your mother and I. I know it was tough when we divorced, and the honest truth was that I hated to leave you and your sister at home."

I shook my head and put my hand up. "Dad, you don't need to explain it. I know why you left, I really do."

He smiled sadly again. "You always were smart for your age. I guess nothing gets by you. That's why I keep saying you're going to do great things. You're too smart not to, Derek."

"I don't blame you for leaving, Dad. For a long time I did, but I think that was mom's influence. It took me a long time to see through what she said but I'm just glad we did this before . . ." Before it was too late, my brain finished.

He nodded. "I couldn't continue to stay there with her. It was making all of us miserable. I did it for you kids as long as I could but I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't spend the rest of my life depressed like I was."

"I think everyone reaches their breaking point one way or another," I replied. "I think it's incredible you lasted as long as you did, all things considered."

"You really are mature for your age," he replied while patting my hand. "You sure you're only sixteen?"

I smiled, knowing the truth. The moment didn't last long because he soon made a pained expression and clutched his chest. "I'm just hurting so bad. Is it okay with you if I take a little nap?"

I nodded too quickly. "Of course, Dad. Get all the rest you need."

He leaned forward and wrapped his arm around me. "I love you, Derek. You're the best son a father could ask for."

I completely broke down at the point, burying my face in his hospital gown. "I love you too, Dad."

I don't know how long I clung to him. Neither of us cared how much time passed. I think we both knew it was the end so appearances didn't matter so much. It didn't take him long to fall asleep. I think being in that unconscious state was better than dealing with the pain. Hours past by as I stayed by his bed, even as the doctor showed up and put his hand on my shoulder.

"You might want to say your goodbye now, son," said the man. "He's not going to last much longer."

I nodded and waited for him to leave the room. I took his big hand in mine and squeezed but he remained unresponsive.

"I'm sorry it took me all these years to figure out what a great father you were," I whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't here the first time when you died. I can honestly tell you it killed me when I realized that you didn't deserve that. You were always patient with me, always the one we could count on. I'm just so thankful now for this second chance to tell you how much you mean to me. I love you, Dad."

I leaned forward and kissed his forehead before pulling away. My father's body shifted slightly and he let out a small sigh. That was comforting in its own measure, and I reckoned that he'd heard my final words to him. For someone that was dying, he almost looked peaceful. In my own way, I figured a lot of it had to do with me being there.

I had finally corrected the wrong.

It wasn't much more than a few minutes after he finally passed that I was pulled back into the in-between world with Barry.

"I'm back?" I asked, looking around the room. I was no longer in my father's room but my hospital room. My real body was still on the bed but once again, Barry was right beside me.

"What a trip, right?" he asked, looking at me with a grin.

I punched him in the shoulder. "You dickhead!" I did it again, harder this time. "How could you make me go through that!" I pummeled him as much as I could before I broke down again.

To his credit, Barry didn't get mad and of course he didn't hit back. After a while, my punches became weaker and I collapsed against him. He enfolded me into a warm embrace and gently patted my back. "It's all right," he said soothingly into my ear. "It's okay to get the emotion out."

"Was that really necessary?" I asked as my voice muffled against his suit jacket. "Did I really need to suffer the agony of his death?"

He pulled me away to look at me, nodding in the process. "That's what life is about. Making hard decisions because they're the right thing to do. Your father needed you in his final moments and who was the one right beside his bed when he passed?" Barry pointed to my chest. "You were, Derek. Yes, it was harder to be there to witness his passing but aren't you the least bit grateful that you were there to share it with him?"

The words couldn't form in my mouth. I nodded only after a few moments. There was no use arguing with him when I knew he was right. Despite the pain, my conscience didn't ache in the same way it did when I knew I didn't share those final moments with him. I felt . . . lighter. Like a weight came off my shoulders.

Barry tapped my shoulder. "There's something I think you ought to see. Look over there."

I pivoted to look back over at the bed. It took me a moment until I found the difference but my heart almost stopped when I noticed it. I walked to the bedside table and picked up the watch that wasn't there before Barry showed up.

My father's watch.

I spun around quickly as my mouth fell open. "How? How did this happen?"

He smiled. "The changes that you made that day are already having an effect, Derek. You never forgot that moment with your father, nor the heirloom that he gave you that day. You were wearing it when you had your accident, a physical reminder of your connection to your father. It seems only fitting that it's here by your bedside when you need it the most."

"So this all really did happen," I whispered. "This really wasn't some crazy doped-up dream sequence, was it?"

Barry didn't answer. He spread his hands and grinned before he walked back over to the chair and sat down. I'm not sure how long I stared at that watch in my hands. I didn't ever want to let it go. It was the only link I had left to my father, and I found an odd sense of satisfaction in knowing it was here as my real body struggled for life.

It must have been nearly an hour later when I felt the urge to talk to Barry again. When I looked in his direction, he was staring at me patiently, as if knowing I'd needed that entire time to really process. In that moment, whatever fear, apprehension, or just plain doubt evaporated. He'd already helped me correct one serious point of shame in my life. If we had four more to do, I was going to embrace the process as much as I could.

It struck me at that point how quiet the room was that morning. Despite the occasional nurse, there really were no visitors coming to see me. The more I thought about it, the more upset I got.

I pushed up from my chair and went out to the hallway, looking down each direction from my room. It was typical of a hospital in that I saw about three nurses in that small stretch, as well as one older man with a bald head being wheeled down the hall. When I walked back inside my room, I'm sure the consternation was written all over my face.

"Don't you look pissed," said Barry, noticing my expression.

I raised my arms. "Where is everybody? I mean, here I am dying in the hospital and why isn't there anyone here? None of my friends are here. I don't see anyone I work with. What gives?"

"Funny you should mention your coworkers," said Barry. "You're right. None of them have been by."

"Do they even know I'm in here?" I asked. "Maybe word hasn't reached them yet."

"They know," replied Barry in a nonchalant manner. "They were alerted shortly after it happened and your sales manager announced it to the floor yesterday morning."

My heart sank. "And they still haven't come? Not even one after work or something like that?"

Barry shook his head. "I suppose that you're not their favorite person."

I have to admit—that one stung the ego. It was also a fair assessment. I didn't quite care for many of the people I worked with either. The competitive nature of the job meant that you didn't really have too many friends, and it was so cutthroat that people were constantly coming and going. Any friends you made typically didn't last too long, and many of the people there just weren't friendship material.

"I thought at least one person would've showed up," I muttered under my breath.

"They might have," said Barry with a knowing look. "Perhaps if you'd been a little more wiser in your choice of career, you might have had more friends. Perhaps if you didn't cheap out on your schooling, you might not have been so petty with those you considered beneath you. Maybe they would've liked you then."

I looked at him with confusion. "I'm afraid I'm not following you."

Barry rolled his eyes. "Must I spell everything out for you, Derek?" He then rose from his chair and waved his arm. Suddenly, we were looking at the auto dealership from the second floor, where all the executive offices were. On the main floor, I could see all the display models and customers being led around by my colleagues.