The Bottom Line

Matthew sat skimming through the revenue files on his laptop, a frown upon his forehead. He was annoyed that his department had been unable to churn out not as much bottom line as he had anticipated. The morons will need to be taught a lesson, more weekends for them, thought Matthew testily. Across his desk, Emily, his secretary sat staring groggily into the laptop stealing glances at the wall clock from time to time. Checking the time out-Well, young lady, you would have been told off for your lacking sincerity had not I been busy with my files here, Matthew deliberated with himself. Further, she had already been to her hometown in the past week. Although, it was once every 6 months that she was allowed this luxury, yet in the face of declining profit growth, she should not be permitted even that.

Matthew was the delivery head for the Accessories department of the American fashion retail giant Elites. His clairvoyance about fashion and market trends, an exceptional genius when it came to noticing the flaws of competitors and of course, his go-getter attitude had propelled a swift rise up the ladders for him. And the passion with which he worked was almost frenzied. Recognized widespread for his work, Matthew was coveted by many a big name in the Fashion industry.

Like every other day, he and Emily were the last people in the office, though he had reached his workplace even before the normal office hours began. It was 10 in the night now. Matthew showed no signs of movement. His phone vibrated. He reached out expectantly, hoping it would be one of the promising investors. It was Jamie, his 4-year-old son. He silenced the phone, disappointed and vexed. He disliked being interrupted when in the midst of work; he thought he had instructed Joanna a good number of times. Why on earth couldn’t the folks understand? Money and fame were the ultimate truth. What had bought those Vuitton and Prada bags for Joanna? Why couldn’t she just be contented with opulence, instead of prattling on about company and not teaching the child to be more mature? Matthew’s head ached with vexation. He felt breathless. When would those darned investors be contacting?

 His head had begun throbbing. Ignoring the dull ache, he continued staring into the screen. But the ache had begun scaling up bit by bit. He clutched his forehead and closed his eyes. Emily stared up from her screen.

 “Matthew…Are you quite alright?” –Emily’s voice broke through the silence.

“Emily… I suppose to leave for the day. We need to begin early tomorrow. Report by 9. The details for the investors’ meeting need to be reviewed as soon as possible.”-Matthew replied, matter-of-factly, suppressing his rising discomfort. Emily packed up and left wordlessly. He had noticed her wince when told about the early reporting the next day. But he suddenly found himself devoid of energy to hold her back and tell her off.

Matthew prepared to leave as well. His head continued to throb. As he rose, a bout of dizziness appeared to grip him. He clutched hard onto the edge of his desk, trying to steady himself. And yet to no avail. The world around him swooned and staggered uncontrollably. Darkness enveloped everything as he collapsed to the cold ground hard.

Matthew did not know how long it was before he came to himself. There was no aching sensation anymore. He blinked his eyes open slowly. He was lying on the carpet of his office cabin. The lights around had turned dim. Gradually the surroundings swung into full focus. From the corner of his eyes, he could see someone else as well sprawled out on the floor. He sprang to a sitting position. The play of light and shadow hid the face of the figure lying ahead. Matthew’s mind was a maze of questions. Who was this stranger who lay so peacefully in his cabin? How did he even get inside? How could he have slipped the attention of security? Matthew edged forward tentatively and bent down towards the prostrate figure. The face loomed into his view. Matthew drew back in horror. It was a visage he recognized all too well for it was his very own face.

A hand touched his shoulder. He turned around abruptly. A stranger clad in a dark hooded robe stood in front. “Come…We have to hurry up.”- The stranger spoke in a hollow voice. Matthew looked from the stranger to the figure spread out on the carpeted floor.

“Oh…Him? He is the shell you left behind. Stroke, you see, a stroke hit you. The security has been alerted already and your family and colleagues informed. The body will soon be taken away for post mortem.”

“Wait…wait a moment…who…May I please know who you are? What’s going on?”- Matthew stammered out.

“We have limited time. Boss will be angry if I don’t meet my bottom line. But alright, I will give you a quick walkthrough before the final departure.”- The hooded stranger decided. And grabbed onto Matthew’s shirt sleeve. A rush of air followed, yanking Matthew off his feet and the ground.

A grand villa, with lights on only in the drawing hall on the ground floor- a house Matthew recognized with a start. The sound of soft weeping emanated out from it. The stranger pulled Matthew in right through the concrete wall of the house. Joanna sat alone on the plush drawing room couch, shedding incessant tears, fiddling with the ring on her finger.

“Oh, Matthew…why? Why did you have to ruin it all? Why?”- She sobbed.

“Joanna?”- Cried out, Matthew. But his wife did not respond.

“Please let me…”- Pleaded Matthew with the stranger. The stranger let go of his hold. Matthew rushed forward and touched Joanna’s hand. His fingers passed right through her palm, without holding them, as if his flesh were nothing but thin air. Matthew recoiled, horrified. He felt a tug on his sleeve. The villa disappeared from his sight.

An apartment building appeared. In a supernatural fashion yet again, Matthew found himself standing in a neatly arranged apartment room. A feminine voice was heard conversing- Emily’s voice.

“Yes, Ma…I suppose I will come down this weekend. Boss overworked himself to death. I don’t really know whether to feel sad about it. But to be honest, I am a bit relieved. He used to drive me insane at times. I mean…How can just revenues, bottom lines matter alone? Don’t humans mean anything?”

After a pause-“Yes I know Ma…I won’t be bad mouthing him. Don’t worry. Pray for his poor departed soul, I will. Oh, I feel so sorry for his family…”

Matthew has yanked away once more. This time he found himself inside a grandiloquent mansion in the countryside. “Yeah well…What an unlucky timing. He was an able man definitely. We need to be discrete about the news. Don’t want to push away the investors. Find a replacement soon enough we must. “- Spoke yet another familiar voice-the voice of the director of Elite.

“Well…our time here is almost up. Prepare yourself, Matthew. You are about to start on a long journey to the other world.”- Uttered the stranger’s voice.

Matthew felt empty within. Tears welled up in his eyes. “Please…I beg of you. Is my time really up? Please let me have one more chance. I swear I will be a better man this time. Please…”- Choked Matthew, falling to his knees in front of the stranger.

“You understand you are in the presence of the Grim Reaper? Do you suppose you will be granted mercy now?”

“I beg of you…Please…Or else I will surely be lost. Please let me have one more chance.”

A loud laughter, a squeezing grasp on his hand, darkness.

Matthew opened his eyes. The office cabin swung into view. He sprang up swiftly, trembling to the core. He was the sole inmate. The clock on the wall had just struck midnight. Breathing a sigh of relief, Matthew drove back home.

He hugged Joanna, apologizing profusely and resolved to send Emily on a long leave to detoxify herself. He needed to care more about humans than about bottom lines, he pledged to himself. Far far away, from the heavens, the Reaper chuckled to himself.