Chapter Three: Life After Death

Monday, August 9th
11:00 PM

“I’m dead.” I know nothing about whatever kind of meditation uses mantras. Even so I’m pretty sure I was using those two words just like one. It’s quite a shock to hear a news reader tell you you’re dead.

A little bit of time helped. That and combining cranberry juice with the Stoli I found. Separately I find them disgusting but together they make the only mixed drink besides a screwdriver I can manage to make myself. They’re also the only reason I got past the initial shock at discovering I had been killed. Stabbed right through the heart, to be precise, as I learned the next time the all-news channel had cycled trough. Susan, a prudish stuck up bitch I have a loathe-loathe thing going on with, was the KA’s employee interviewed for the story. That part appealed to me. She had wished me dead and her feelings of guilt now must be incredible. If she’s videotaped on the nightly news I have to have a copy!

It was on the third cycle when I thought of Da-Sam’s message. Someone was
already calling my ‘loved ones’. I had to call Michael. Sure, Mom and my sisters were in my thoughts somewhere too but my once and future beau was top of my list. Unfortunately I had no clue how bad an idea I’d had. All I knew was someone, Kathy the assistant manager we all love and hate probably, was spreading the news of my death. If it was Kathy then she probably was making sure my family and friends didn’t have to hear about me dying when news crews contacted them. It would have been a fantastic thing to do if I were really the one dead. Now all I had to do was undo Kathy’s great intentions, starting with Mister Fuchs.

“Hello?” Michael picks up on the first ring. Did he know deep down I wasn’t dead? Has he been expecting this call? Maybe he doesn’t even know someone they’ve mistaken for me has a toe tag on in a refrigeration unit. “Mom?” Ah, the dreaded M word. Martha Fuchs gives controlling and domineering bitches a bad name. He has to have already been called about me. Michael always calls his mother when he hits bottom, no matter how much she makes him nuts. I’ve gotta save him from the months hard work extricating himself from whatever crap she pulls with this latest opening he’s given her.

“Not mom, Mikey. It’s me. It’s Simon.” Total silence. Michael may not even be breathing. I hate this kind of quiet. “It wasn’t me, Michael. They’re all gonna see that and I promise you’ll be my first stop as soon as the cops let me go. I promise you, dude.” I wait for his reaction, not expecting the one I get: A great big thump and the phone goes dead. Big he man just fainted.

Rapid redial does no good. His big ass broke the phone on the way down. Oh well. Michael knows I’m alive so I can move down my to do list. First is another drink. I like alcohol at times like these. I don’t do stress well, especially when it ambushes me. Maybe that’s why my memory gets a little fuzzy for a bit...


The next thing I know I’m face down, fully dressed on the suite’s way too big bed. It’s the talking that woke me. The fact one of the voices is totally unfamiliar is surreal.

“I’m not certain we should let him sleep. The events of tonight were stressful-” The woman speaking sounds very cultured. My mother’s best friend, Aunt Anne, sounds like this. I suspect with Aunt Anne it’s an affectation but this woman sounds like the real thing. I bet if I had a name to go with the voice I could find it in some kind of social registry.

“Miss Derwillion...” Dara starts. Robert interrupts her.

“She insisted we call her Margate, Dara.” The name from the caller ID. Robert has noticed I’m just faking sleep and for some reason it’s important he perform the exposition we find so funny in soap operas. I wasn’t that drunk, just tired from a day’s hard work, a long drive, and then being murdered but I immediately switch to totally sober. This has the feeling of something huge.

“Yes, dear. I can’t imagine you being here for my nephew after the horrible event you’ve just endured. There’s no need to stand on formalities on top of that.” You know, I really like this woman, what with how warm and loving that sounded. I wonder who her nephew is and decide he’s a very lucky man to have her. She must be old money. Their wealth is just background noise I’ve noticed, allowing them to just be a person outside of it. Admittedly, there’s still a high percentage of them that are assholes but that’s true of the population in general.

“Your Simon was so excited to meet ours. It’s obvious he started drinking when he heard the news. I just think if we let him sleep a little longer he’ll be a little more together when he wakes.” Her Simon? Oh my god! I missed the fact this Margate person has the same name as the company mentioned in the news, Derwillion Food. Her Simon must be Simon Douglas and then it dawns on me there was a body in KA’s parking lot and there was mention of a lookalike for Simon Douglas. Simon Douglas is the man who’s now dead and for some reason my friends are letting her think I’m him.

“See here, missy. I hardly think a short acquaintance makes you an expert on what the boy needs.” This is a new voice and male. He has the same accent as Margate so he could be either family or husband. I hope he’s family. The mental picture I had built for Margate would be shattered by an unpleasant mate.

“Mister Derwillion,” and I don’t hear this one rushing to have Robert call him anything else, “with all due respect, you weren’t here. You could be aunt and uncle of the year and still not get it. Your nephew met us hours ago and was eventually thrilled to have what could only be a brother out there. He was horrified to learn our friend was killed and insisted we come over as soon as the police were done with all of us.” Deciding I have enough to go on and to play along until my friends explain, I start to officially wake up. I think I’m doing an Oscar worthy performance but seeing Dara roll her eyes disabuses me of that notion.

“Oh, Simon!” is all that escapes from Margate’s mouth before she draws me into a hug. It’s a good one too. When this lady hugs someone, they stay hugged. Eventually she holds me at arm’s length. It’s like she’s looking for some physical evidence of psychic trauma. It gives me a chance to assess her as well. I pictured her beautiful and I am not disappointed. Fifty if she’s a day, Margate Derwillion will probably still be a knockout at one hundred. Reddish hair, green eyes, a round face, and a lovely mouth that appears to have smiling as its default setting all combine to make me relax. There’s just something so genuine about her, like an aura of sorts. From the black unadorned gown she’s wearing I’d say she and the weasel came here from some function. “Baby, you had me-us worried. Why didn’t you call me? Gamez was on the scene,” She drips ice and venom when saying that. I decide I should dislike this Gamez person because she wouldn’t act like that unless it was justified. “And he gleefully informed us that you’d been killed.” Tears well up in her eyes and I see them reflected in Dara and Robert’s as well. Something tells me that whoever adopted this other Simon, Margate did most of the mothering.

“Look, Margate, before we get too deep into this, I had better be going. I told you the boy would be fine and he is.” Paterson has the same resemblance physically to his sister as he did vocally, but its watered down. He’s pasty and somewhat overweight too boot. “I’m glad you’re all right, Simon. Maybe we could have avoided some of this has we told you were adopted but there’s no changing the past. Call me if you need anything. I would stay but I have early meetings tomorrow.” There’s a perfunctory hug for Margate, no glimmer that he’s even aware Dara and Robert are still there, and then Paterson is gone. Margate smiles wryly at him as he goes.

“Sometimes your uncle forgets we have access to his schedule as well. Or Maybe Paterson really does consider a lunch meeting early.” Margate is clearly disappointed in her brother and sounds so sad. She gestures Dara and Robert to join her sitting on the edge of the mammoth bed. “The least the man could have done is show a little more concern for you.”

“I don’t think it was personal. Even a stranger’s death when it’s so close can be more than someone can immediately handle well.” I honestly don’t know what possessed me to say this when I had decided to speak as little as humanly possible. Until I figured out what was really going on I was certain I would expose myself if I did otherwise. I think it was the sadness in her voice. This is a woman who I just know has no clue that love can be anything other unconditional. If her Simon had done what I did all those months ago, I’m sure she would have tsk’d a little but never disowned me.

“You know, I believe you’re right. When your parents passed, Paterson made sure he kept busy making arrangements rather than ‘wallowing in it all’. Still, with his retreat I can properly greet your new friends. Dara and Robert, yes?” Robert stands to properly take Margate’s hand and raises it to kiss it gently.

“Robert Alexander Janes, at your service. Despite the circumstances, it is a pleasure to meet you.” And it must have been. Robert can charm anyone within seconds but he was being genuinely warm here. He doesn’t warm to most people easily, considering the mess his family life was like growing up. Robert’s treating Margate as if he’s known and liked her for years. “Simon, your Simon, and us met last night when he popped into KA’s. He said he was ‘scouting’.” Okay, so that’s how it started. They must have called me immediately afterward. I wonder how long it was before he died. Dara takes over. Good. The girl can talk. When she dies, her last words will probably be a novella.

“He was thrilled he had a lookalike.” A look crosses Margate’s face and Dara glances at me. “Okay, he thought we were scamming him until I dug out the Xerox of our Simon’s I-9. Anyway, we called our Simon but yours was getting impatient. He wanted to freshen up and we said we’d call as soon as Simon showed. Instead we called after Kathy found...the body in the parking lot.” Poor Kathy! I had a feeling she was intimately involved in all this and I was right! Kathy lost her second husband in a mugging so this must be the worst kind of flashback for her.

“Kathy?” Margate’s concern sounds real. Either she or Paterson are adopted. No way could they be so different any other way.

“Our assistant manager. She was heading out for her smokes and tripped over Simon.” Dara’s eyes start to well up. Is she reliving having thought at first that was really me. That had to be the worst. I squirm as things start feeling more and more real. Margate sees this, luckily misinterprets it, and strokes my arm in silent comfort. I shake it off and head for the bathroom. On top of everything else I need to get the vodka taste out of my mouth. Only still being buzzed lets me use someone else’s toothbrush. Of course, I drop it like an issue of Hustler the second I realize it’s a dead man’s toothbrush. I choke back a sob as reality starts to intrude again. When I return to the bedroom, Robert is finishing the story and the trio is much closer on the bed then when I left. I guess it’s a comfort thing. Having such a large personal envelope of space, I wouldn’t know. You comfort me by taking the farthest chair across the room. The Simon Margate knew must have been like that as well from the way Margate lets me settle into an armchair without a word.

“-so we were supposed to get drunk and tell Simon everything he missed out on not knowing Simon. ‘Course, he got started without us...” Margate takes one of their hands in each of hers. This woman is so filled with love it almost shines. How can we deceive her? I’m angry at Dara and Robert for this deception. It feels like lying to my Mom.

Oh shit! Mom! All of us kids were her whole life. She laughed with us and ached for us. God only knows what she and Annette must be going through! At least they wouldn’t have called Angelique in LA yet and so far as I know no one knows where in Florida Jamie is at the moment. Margate again misreads the emotion she’s seeing and rises to draw me into another hug.

“Simon, I have an idea. I presume these new friends of yours are in no hurry to return to this KA’s even should the police allow it reopened soon,” she glances at them and gets confirmation, “and we have more unused rooms than used ones. They’ll stay with us while we all cope with this tragedy. If we can find them new employment in one of our own restaurants in the meantime then all the better.”

“Miss Derwillion-” Dara starts.

“Margate.”

“Margate, that’s not necessary. We’re not doing this for any gain.” Dara’s very forceful on this point. Maybe because having me impersonate a heretofore unknown and rich dead twin could be taken as being after the money?

“Of course it’s not necessary, my dear. Very little I do is. Our home is free of any and all unpleasant reminders of what you’ve lost and telling Simon of the good times you had will help you recall them more clearly as well.” Margate heads for her coat and Robert beats her to it. He’s like something from an old movie as he helps her into it and it’s clear Margate’s will is to be done as to their visit. She gives me yet another hug and I allow it because she clearly needs to do it. “I swear to you, Simon, we had no idea you had any living biological family. Your parents were only told your birth father had died before you were born and your birth mother died of cancer when you were an infant. It was days after the adoption, in fact. We would have told you all of this after your parents were buried if we’d even suspected you had a brother. The lawyer handling things for the mother made it impossible for us to get any records we hadn’t already been given so it would have simply been frustrating to tell you more.” I hug her back without really thinking about it.

“That’s hardly important right now, is it? You can apologize in the form of extravagant gifts whenever you feel the need.” She chuckles. I guess the right way to do this is just to be a more formal version of myself.

“My car’s outside but Joe had to drive Lily home. I’ll call him to retrieve you three but I bet he’s already planning on coming to see that you are fine for himself.” One last kiss and it’s just me and my grifter friends left. We say nothing but instead head for the window. Not a word is said until we see her crossing the parking lot.