John woke up, his head pounding, healing itself from the trauma of the car accident. He felt like a crushed coke bottle being blown back into place with a burst of air pressure. He could feel the plates of his skull fusing back together, his cracked ribs snapping back into place like magnets. He ached all over and he cried out in pain, but no one heard him. It was dark. John panicked. He knew where he was. He was in a Mortuary Cabinet in the Morgue Refrigerator; or as he so affectionately called them, “Morgue Drawers.” This had happened a few times before, and it was always awkward. John waits in the freezing cold, completely naked until the coroner comes back to inspect the body and send him off for cremation, at which point John gives him a heart attack by saying something like, “Hello!” It was a bit like that Monty Python sketch where they ask to bring out the dead and the guy is still alive, only with more screaming and nudity.

“Hello!” John imagined saying, “Still alive, no cause for alarm, no apologies necessary, happens all the time, really!”

John waited for what must have been hours, although any time in a small cold box is going to feel like an eternity. Finally he heard the click and the drawer slid open. John smiled and said “don’t freak out!” the poor coroner jumped about 3 feet in the air. She hadn’t expected this at all.

“Oh, my God!” She said, “You’re… You’re alive! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok” he said, sitting up. He swung his legs over the side of the drawer.

“You...You had no life signs!” She said, “The doctors said you were dead, I confirmed it… You were dead!”

“I’m sure it seemed that way.” Said John calmly “You don’t happen to still have my clothes, do you?” He asked as he hopped off the side of the cabinet. She sheepishly pointed to the garbage can. “Great.” he said with a smile. He walked over to the can and began sorting through it to find his clothes. He pulled out his “Hang 10 in Hawaii” T-shirt. He couldn’t believe he went the whole day yesterday without changing it.

“I’m gonna lose my job…” Said the woman.

“You’re not going to lose your job.” he said.

“Yes, I am!” She persisted. “I said you were dead and you’re not dead!”

“I know, but, just fill out the paperwork so it looks like I was cremated, and no one will know.” He said, “I’d really like to get out of here without a big fuss…”

“No, I’ve got to tell the doctors, we all thought you were dead!” she said frantically.

“Look, if I told you the truth about what was going on here, you wouldn’t believe me.” He said, feeling tried at this point. “Just know that I’m alive, and if you ever see me again, I’m alive then too, ok?”

“You can’t just go,” She said, “We need to examine you!”

“Look!” He said, getting angry, “Do you want a lawsuit on your hands? You declared me dead! You were going to cremate me! I just want to go home! Let me go and this all disappears. Keep me here, and see how fast I call the law down on your ass!” He said. He was bluffing of course. The last thing John wanted was more attention. He feared if his secret got out he’d be treated like some kind of lab rat. He just wanted to go home. He finished buttoning his pants.

“I’m gonna go.” He said. “Don’t talk about this to anyone.” He turned and walked out of the room. The coroner stood in disbelief and then went home early for the day.

John was actually friends with a few coroners, this type of thing had happened before, and he always preferred waking up in one of their offices as they knew the drill: fudge the paperwork and send him on his way. John tried to remember the day before. He was always fuzzy after a resurrection.

“I died… getting hit by a car…” He said to himself, “While… chasing someone? Andrew!” He knew what he had to do. If he ever wanted this to stop, he had to convince Andrew, and what was more convincing than literally coming back from the dead. He searched through his pockets and found Andrews card. He had to call him. John swung by the ER and grabbed the phone at the triage desk. He punched in Andrew’s number and listened eagerly as the phone started to ring. Finally there was a click on the other end.

“Hello?” Said Andrew.

“Andrew…” Said John.

“Who is this?”

“It’s John” He said, losing his nerve a bit.

“John, who?” Andrew asked.

“John the...naked fighting pancake guy.” John was starting to lose it. This was crazy.

“...That’s not funny…” He said. “Who is this?”

“It’s John…”

“You’re sick.” Andrew said as he hung up the phone. This wasn’t going to be as cut and dry as John had hoped. He hung up the phone and walked out of the ER.

John was going to have to figure out what to do all day. He generally tried to stay away from where he slept just in case the way that he died also involved destroying the house. He headed for the park. Maybe he could beg enough change to score some blow and waste the day away. As he started walking he thought of a better idea. Why not go and hang out near the pancake house? Andrew said he was a regular, maybe he'd eventually stop by. What was it called, again? Big Jim’s Little Kitchen? Or was it Tiny Kitchen? It didn’t matter, he had good food. John cut through the park trying to retrace his steps from the day before to figure out his way back to the diner.

John caught a glimpse of a clock. It was 8am. He must have been in that Morgue Drawer longer than he thought. All in all it was a nice day out, the sun was still low enough in the sky that it peered through the trees and gave everything a golden tinge. There were some birds chirping; John saw a red wing blackbird and a pair of cardinals. He used to be quite the birder before he started dying. John was so distracted by a grackle fighting with a small mouse that he wasn’t watching where he was going and he bumped into someone and knocked her over. He became quickly apologetic and tried his best to help her up. He was so frantic that he didn’t realise how beautiful she was until he had pulled her up again. He was holding her hand after helping her to her feet when he became quite shy. She was stunning. She had dark skin and large curly black hair. She was slender and petite but had such striking facial features that made her face stand out above everything else. She had dark hazel eyes and large frame glasses and laugh lines from smiling too much. She had freckles, even though she was dark skinned, which was something John hadn’t seen before, and it perplexed him in the best way possible. She exuded a sense of peace and joy and it was all making John feel extra embarrassed for having knocked her over.

John hadn’t shaved in a few days and he was still wearing that stupid shirt and scrub pants.

“I’m, I’m, I’m sorry…” He stammered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.” She said. John wished he didn’t look like a hobo so he could ask for her number, or give her his. He also wished he owned a phone so he could have a number to give her.

“My, uh, My name is John.” He said. She stared at him awkwardly. He could tell she just wanted to leave.

“Nice to meet you John.” She said. “Well, I better, uh, go.”

“Right, ok. Sorry.” Said John, embarrassed. She picked up her purse which was still on the ground and kept walking through the park. John wondered how differently things would have gone if it was her he saved from getting mugged the night before. He wondered if he would have still done his “I’m invincible when I’m naked” bit or if he would have improvised. He continued on his way through the park and found his way to the diner.

John looked at the sign. “Big Jim’s Tiny Kitchen” He made a mental note, not that it really mattered. He still didn’t have a wallet or any money so he sat down in front of the diner and started begging for change. A few people walked by and some even tossed him some change. Within an hour he had about $2.50. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. A short time later Big Jim noticed him begging out front and came out to talk to him.

“Wutr yu doin ‘ere?” He said in his bizarre unplaceable accent.

“I’m just trying to get enough to buy a meal from you.” He said.

“C’mon in then,” he said, “we’ll start a tab.”

“You know I’m not good for it, right?” John asked hesitantly.

“We don’ havta discus the d’tails nuw.” He said, “Yu ned food an’ av got some.” John didn’t argue. He went inside and ordered the same breakfast he’d had the day before. Jim watched him as he ate and he was halfway through his plate before he thought to thank him.

“Um...Thanks for this…” John said shyly.

“Don’ Menchinit” said Jim. John was drawn once again to Big Jim’s tattoos.

“Do your tattoos have any significance?” He asked, kind of boldly, “Or are they just decorational?” Big Jim laughed. He didn’t mind when people asked him about it, but John was a bit forward.

“It tulls a story uva warriar hu fot with death itsulf an won.” He said.

“What was his name?” asked John, his mouth still full of pancake.

“Griggarus.” Said Jim, “He luvved a womin so much that he fot death itself ta retarn frum the oonder warld.” John only half understood what he was talking about, but he thought it strangely kismet that he would meet Andrew, an anthropologist who studies death myths, and Big Jim, who wears the myth of defeating death on his skin, in the same night. John and Jim talked for a bit longer, John still only picking up half of what Jim said with his accent, when someone wearing a hoodie with a handkerchief around his face walked in and pointed a gun at Big Jim.

“Give me all the money in the register!” He shouted.

“Oh, hell.” Thought John. “I guess this is how I go out today.” He stood up and flipped his table at the guy knocking him into the window. The man stood up and trained his gun onto John. John went to grab the gun when Big Jim punched the robber clear across the jaw and knocked him out.

“Wow!” Said John, “I did not see that coming!” Big Jim dragged the unconscious robber into the back room and grabbed the phone to call the police.

“Hullo?” He said into the phone. “Av bin rabbed.” John quickly learned that the person on the other end of the phone did not understand his accent.

“Whaddyu min ‘wut did ah say?’ Av bin rabbed!” Jim shouted. John grabbed the phone from him.

“Hi, he’s been robbed. Yeah. Yeah. Ok. Send help.” He hung up the phone. “They are on their way” said John.

“Thanks” said Big Jim.

“No problem.” said John. “Hey, do you mind if I take off? I don’t like cops.”

“Shur.” said Jim, “Al put the brickfast on yur tab.” They smiled at each other and John walked out the door, and crossed the road where he was suddenly hit by a bus. He flew 30 feet into an intersection where he was hit by a second vehicle before he tumbled onto the pavement, bleeding from his mouth and ears. He'd broken almost every bone in his body. John was dead.