Mr. Claims

He had been in Claims so long he couldn't remember his real name anymore. He introduced himself as Mr. Claims and no one questioned the tackiness of it all. Very few asked him questions about himself anyway and he seldom gave any name. He understood they needed their own reassurances and that's one of the services he provided.

The poor lost souls often begged at the end due to regret and fear of the unknown. Edward Jamison, 53, husband, father, and hard worker pleaded, "Please sir, I need more time to visit my son. Dammit, I was such a lousy father! I haven't had time to make it up to him."

Mr. Claims pointed to the man's son who had tears in his eyes at the podium next to a blown-up photo of Ed Sr from when he was a younger, more athletic, and before optimism had left his eyes, "He always cared deeply for all of us and I'll never forget all the times we played video games together and hide and seek." Ed Jr, a 26-year-old spitting image of his now-deceased father, paused to regain his composure. "My father worked so hard to provide for us and I only wish I had shown more of my appreciation. I haven't been around much recently and…" Tears rolled down his face as he lost his will to speak. His uncle escorted him off the stage and into a back room.

Ed Senior faced Mr. Claims with mud puddle eyes and a tear trickled down his round face. "I can't believe that is what he remembers. Those are such good memories. We did have some good times. It was after his mom and I split that I went back to the bottle and to see him crying made me hurt but also, I have to confess I was a bit happy. I know how that must sound."

Mr. Claims said to him with the same flat intonation and expression he gave all of his claims, "I'm here to get you where you need to be. Judgment is not in my job description."

"Well, who does judge me and where are you taking me?" Ed said in a sullen tone with just a hint of defensiveness.

"It's not what I meant. You will go where you're meant to go. I have no say in that. I'm simply here to guide you." People make fun of cliche and cheesy, but it works for Mr. Claims. It had always been useful in his career.

"I've done so much awful shi...stuff I must be going to Hell. Oh God no."

Mr. Claims, having witnessed so many last-minute repenters, replied, "Using foul language won't change your fate at this point. If you've been deemed as going to what you refer to as Hell, then it is a fate of which you can't outrun. So say all you've always wanted to and we'll be on our way." He said, without any sense of urgency.

Ed hesitated, "Fuck it! Lisa, you were a fucking bitch! That's why I spent so many nights at that shithole bar with the fat ass bartender who was a nice lay. Surprised the shit out of me. You kept my god-damn boy away from me even after I stopped drinking you selfish whore!"

He paused, teared up, took a deep breath, then continued, with less bravado than before, "But you had your reasons. I wasn't there for you. Too into my...work. I thought I was doing what a good husband does, for a while, but it was clear that I had done you wrong. And my boy, he deserved better than this old drunkard."

His head slumped and his shoulders vibrated with sadness. He looked up at Mr. Claims and nodded.

Along the way, Ed evaporated without a complaint or another word. And Mr. Claims went to claim the next soul who refused to move on. Compared to older souls, Ed was easy to persuade. During Mr. Claims' tenure of death claiming he's come up against much more difficult spirits to appease.

*********

The rain splashed hard against the windshield while the wipers threw all of their energy into keeping Ed on the right path. Although, his ex-wife often quipped that there wasn’t anyone or anything in heaven or on earth that could keep that man on the right path. He downed another swig of whiskey, threw the car in park, and shut the engine off as he pulled into the driveway he had pulled into so many times before back when he used to smile even while sober. All of the lights were off, except for the little glow from a nightlight, which he knew was Junior's room. Even as angry as he was he chuckled at the thought of his 11-year-old son still scared of the damned Boogeyman.

He knew the window would be easy to get open since he had told his son they could go on a little overnight adventure if he didn't tell his mother and to listen for the 4 knocks then, 3 knocks, then 2 knocks. Easy enough for the kid to remember. Hopefully, Junior had stayed up but Ed remembered that kid woke to the sounds of two squirrels humping a mile away. Ed lost in reminiscence and whiskey, had knocked a confusing pattern, but Junior was already at the window with a bag.

"Hey, dad! I didn't think you were coming." He said in a whisper that reminded Ed that kids only have two volumes: loud and louder.

"Shh! Boy, you're gonna wake up the dead. And then I’ll have your grandmother nagging me too."

A light flipped on in the hallway just outside Junior's room. Without much thought, he grabbed his son and the overnight bag and high-tailed it to his beat-up Nissan Sentra.

"Why can't mom know about our adventure? It was hard to not tell her, but I kept my mouth shut." He said, holding up the sign for ‘live long and prosper’ in what he thought was scout’s honor.

The light in Junior's bedroom blasted through the window as Senior whipped out of the driveway and spun off just as Lisa stuck her head out the window screaming panicked profanities and probably going to call the cops.

It didn't matter though. The Nissan was registered in someone else's name and it would take them a while to figure it out.

"Maybe we should go back, Dad. Mom's gonna ground me forever." Junior said, as he squished around in the backseat.

Ed Senior looked up into the rearview mirror with a snarl and took another dose of whiskey, "You don't want to spend time with your dad? Your mom keeps you hidden away from me. Says I have to pay to see ya. Well, I'll be god-damned if she will see a fucking dime."

Lights filled his already flooded windshield as he reached 60 MPH in the wrong lane. He swerved in time to avoid the oncoming car, but didn't see the curve ahead just before the Red River bridge, which due to the torrential downpour was hungrier than usual as it swallowed half their car in one swoop.

Ed Senior never woke up to witness his terrified son screaming, kicking at his dad's seat, turning blue, and then choking on his last breath.

Mr. Claims escorted the younger Ed two years after the accident near the river where he endlessly searched for his father. Ed Senior hung around his old stomping grounds for several more years until Mr. Claims came to tell him lies.