Seeing Darkness

"Richard P. Pfennig" . . . there it was, right in the middle of the obituary column. I always had a problem telling people how to pronounce that last name ‑‑ it was Fennik‑‑ with a "K" and a silent "P" unless you pronounced it in the home language, then the "P" made the "F" sound harder ‑‑ like exploding something out of your mouth.

But that wasn't the problem here . . . the problem here was that was MY NAME! Now, wait a minute . . . here I am with the morning paper and my name's in the obituaries . . . I am reading about my own death! . . . and I'm alive! I wondered what my Dad was thinking right about now . . . he usually picks up his paper right about . . . what time is it? . . . the clock says 8:05 . . . right about five minutes ago! . . . if he reads that! . . . he'll have a heart attack!

I got up and went to the phone to call him. I'd better do this fast and make certain he hears me, I thought. I picked up the phone and dialed his number. The phone rang.

"Hello?" Mom said.

"Mom?" I said, "Did Dad read the paper yet? Did he see my name in the obituaries?"

"Bob? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, Mom. Just a joke. How's Dad?"

"He's okay. How are you?" That tinge in her voice exhibited concern.

"I'm fine. I was just joking."

"You want to talk to your dad?"

"No, Mom, I just wanted to call and say hi."

"That's some way of 'saying hi', Bob."

"Sorry, mom. I'll be over for dinner."

"Good. I'll see you then."

"Bye Mom."

"Bye Bob."

I hung up the phone. Mom was probably wondering what had gotten into me. I was wondering what had gotten into me. How could I look at a name like "Richard P. Pfennig" and think it was my name, "Robert A. Franks"?

I got around and ate a pastry and bathed and cleaned up and got dressed for work.

On the bus, I must have nodded. I had a strange dream. Three men surrounded me. One was saying, "If you struggle, it'll hurt." He pointed something at my eyes.

All morning at work, the dream disturbed me. At lunch, the talk around the table was about the death of this Pfennig fellow.

"They say his death was no accident."

"Who says? The spot in the obituaries says it was a heart attack."