104.3

I felt the strange tickle against the back of my neck

And then I felt the heat. It was unusual, unknown.

I looked down for a brief moment noticing the red specks appearing on my wrists.

What the hell is that? I thought. Then the specks were on my forearms in an instant. With each addition, the heat upon my person increased.

I called the doctor.

I excused myself from the office.

I drove to the clinic.

I found the red specks on my forearms and my biceps. Removing my shirt, the nurse saw specks on my chest, abdomen, back and neck.

What the hell is this? I thought.

Under my tongue went the thermometer. I waited. My spit boiled.

104.3 read the glass meter and it's bright mercury line.

The specks were on my face and ears.

The blood draw was once then twice and finally three times.

I waited. The specks appeared on my feet, ankles, calves and thighs.

What the actual hell is this? I thought.

"We don't know." Said the doctor.

"Go home and sleep, rest. Come back in two days. If the fever gets worse go to the ER or take an ice bath."

I feel fine. I am running a 104.3 degree fever.

I am not fine.

I guess to bed I will go.

The fever did not dissipate. The specks did not diminish.

My entire former was speckled. My body was on fire.

My knees suddenly froze into bent position refusing to extend without screams.

The doctor said to sleep. I am going to sleep.

Knees stiffened. Form deformed by mysterious red specks. Fiery heat pouring from every pore without explanation.

I am going to sleep.

What the hell is happening to me?

I am going to sleep.

Finally...

Finally..

Finally.

Finally my eyes open into an unknown room. It's cold. It's stainless steel.

It's a..

Morgue.

Tables line the center with cloths atop forms, bodies.

What the hell is happening to me?

I look at my arms still adorned with red specks. I touch my head still burning with fever where no sweat is released.

I turn to the left and the right. I look at the sheets. 1,2,3,4

4 bodies.

Did I see a quiver of fabric?

The wall of drawers shakes. The floor parts.

I behold a waterway and small boat coming upstream where the drawers had been.

The sheets fall away. And my fiery skin goes cold.

Eyes that I know. Face that I know. Voices albeit weak that I know.

There they stand on weakened legs and with withered skin.

My four fathers.

The creator, the adopter, the patriarch and the mentor.

Each as naked as on their day of birth.

Each trembling as the boat draws nearer.

Each mumbling to himself.

"Be the captain or be a passenger."

They mumble.

"Be a captain or be a passenger."

The vessel draws closer. I see a single man standing with a long stick pushing into the water and forcing the small boat forward.

"Be a captain or be a passenger."

Ever closer the craft floats to shore. And with each push the blue-grey eyes of the captain become more visible.

Closer still.

"Be the Captain or be a passenger." They keep calling.

Skin ever burning. I look as each of my fathers walk toward the tiny vessel. Each revealing two copper coins in hand.

No words exchanged. The boatman takes his payment and they find a seat aboard the rickety boat- the only craft on the River Styx.

All seated and the boat has not cast off. Why?

Those grey eyes meet my own. His boney hand still outstretched.

Two copper coins are in my right hand.

What the hell is happening to me?

"Be the Captain or be a passenger."

Shivering. I clinch my fist and deny him his toll.

Into the deep presses the pole held by death's guide. And slowly away the vessel goes.

My four fathers go their final rest.

Shaking, sweating, kneeling with empty hands - my eye open.

99.7

Death denied.

"Be the Captain or be a passenger."

Invictus - I am the Captain of my own soul.