Publish and Perish, part 33: Death is Not for Sissies

[Context: read the previous part or start at the beginning. TW: bad amateur fiction!]

Having sent the email of sympathy, Gerald stood up, realized he didn’t know what his next move would be, and paused in his upright stance, now feeling silly in his indecision.

Was it time to move on with his day? Or was it time for some more “meditation”?

He decided that he deserved a bit more of a break, and found himself heading to Cafe Nation. He immediately saw Cissy in her usual spot, banging away on her laptop.

“Hey!” was her greeting as he approached.

“Hey. Um, would it be OK if I joined you for a few minutes?”

“Sssure.” She sounded surprised but unperturbed. “Something on your mind?” A second later, she added, “Or someone? Like that bio prof who just passed away? Were you close to him?”

“It’s not like we were old friends,” Gerald sniffed. “But he was just…the wisest, nicest guy,” he added hoarsely.

“Hey…” Cissy sounded concerned. “Would you like to take a little walk?”

“Yeah, OK….”

Gerald worried that he was acting like a toddler in need of comfort. As they headed down the sidewalk, he tried to steer the interaction back toward something more dignified.

“This morning,” he explained, “I had to announce Herb’s death to his class.” Her eyes widened. “I tried to sum up his life for these kids who barely knew him.” He inhaled slowly, then exhaled sharply. “I gave it my best shot. But now…now I’m wondering what his real legacy will be, once the dust has settled and the ashes have been scattered.”

“Mmm,” Cissy murmured gently. “Are you afraid that what you said might not have been true to who he was?”

“Not exactly,” Gerald replied. He summarized his ad-hoc eulogy, tearing up as he had before.

“That sounds lovely,” said Cissy even more gently. “Even without really knowing the guy, I’d bet that you really did him justice.”

“I feel OK about what I said,” Gerald said. “I just can’t believe he’s gone, just like that. I wish I could have delivered those comments at a retirement party, amidst other people’s stories — and then given him a hug and told him to stay in touch. You know?”

Cissy gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I know. I do know. It’s hard,” she said. “No doubt about it — losing someone suddenly is very, very hard.” She blinked a couple of times. Was she recalling some sudden loss of her own?

“Anyway,” said Gerald at last, “I’m sorry to have taken you out of your coffee-shop groove. Seriously, thank you for this walk. I don’t want to take up any more of your time, and” — he forced a weak smile — “I think I can make it back to my office from here.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Gerry. Thank you for trusting me with your thoughts. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Gerald nodded. It was time to let her go. He really should let her go.

“Cissy, do you” — he couldn’t help himself — “do you worry much, or at all, about your own legacy?” He added sheepishly, “You don’t have to answer that right now! But if you’re willing, I’d love to get your take on that…sometime.”

Cissy shrugged. “OK,” she said, “let’s walk a bit farther.”

[Update: the story continues with part 34.]