The following story was written in June 2015, and published as a Facebook status.

I stood at the end of the buffet holding my plate, which was piled high with all the free food I could fit, while scanning the galley for an empty seat. Not just any empty seat but one by itself where I wouldn’t be forced into awkward introductions. It was my first day on the rig, a small jack-up on the shelf that was older than I was, and all I knew was what my job was and how to do it. I made eye contact with an elderly hand who looked to be at least seventy, but because everyone breathes more tobacco than air out here he could have been forty.

“Boy!” he barked at me. “’Mere!”

I walked to the table and sat in the seat opposite him, slightly relieved I wouldn’t have to sit next to the company men. He asked me my name and I told him and then asked him his name and he told me. Nothing more was said for a while.

I finished my food and glanced at the cake tray across the room, which had caught my eye when I came in. I knew I shouldn’t be eating such wonderful treats so early in the day, but if I didn’t eat it, someone else might have, and that’s unacceptable. Going with that logic I stood and moved towards the cake when I felt a tug on my sleeve. I looked down and the elderly gentleman had grabbed me and asked to bring him a slice, too.

I brought back the cake and handed him the bigger piece and he grunted and grinned and wiped his dirty fork on his shirt, preparing to eat it. I began consuming it like I hadn’t just eaten anything before it, but the man sat there staring at his slice. He looked up at me and leaned across the table.

“Boy,” he whispered, “’Mere, I got somethin’ I wanna share wid you.”

I leaned across the table, eager to hear what the man who hadn’t said anything yet needed to tell me now.

“Boy, how much you know ‘bout dying and such?”

I shook my head and being a smartass that I am said, “Nothing sir. I haven’t had the chance to die yet, so I don’t think I’d call myself an expert in the subject.”

He gestured to the rest of the galley.

“All these sonsabitches here, they know jack shit about it. Me, I died once a few years back. On another rig. I seen what’s waiting for us son. It ain’t none of them pearly doorways or tunnels o’ light. No, boy we got something else waiting back behind that there curtain. Now, I’m fixin’ to tell you, but you gotta swear to got that you gonna listen and pay attention. Ok?”

I nodded, now intrigued but slightly confused.

“Right, now. The circumstances of my death, well, they don’t matter none. I died. Somethin’ went wrong, and I woke up on the other side. Did you know Death is an angel? People think angels gots wings and halos and shit but they’re all blowing smoke out they ass. They ain’t ever seen no angel before but I have, and death is an angel. Sure, the beasts got wings, but I couldn’t tell you if it was a boy, girl, hermaphrothingy, what have you… No, Death is an angel, though, sure ‘nough. I walked right on up to Death. ‘Where to, boss?’ I asked it. It told me ‘Why, my friend, now, we go to judgment.’ I looked up into its black eyes, big ol’ beautifully black. Reminded me of a clear night sky. ‘Now I ain’t ready for no judging, sir. So what are my options?’ ‘Well, my friend, one always has a choice. Either come quietly, or come by force. Either way, you are my responsibility, just as you were when you were brought into your short life. You have had your turn, now it’s time to move on.’ ‘Well then I choose neither.’ I told Death ‘neither’ son and walked away. Ran away, really. But it makes no difference. I ran away from Death. And as I ran away I heard it, I heard that beast cackle like a got dang hyena. ‘That won’t help you, my friend, I never forget, and I never forgive. That is not a part of my purpose.’ I can’t forget those words, son. They’re burning inside me like, well, like hot sauce used to burn, back when I could taste. I miss livin’, boy. Promise me this, promise me you gonna live a good life. Live your life, boy, go to church, do whatever it takes, but when you meet that Death fellar, when you stare into his night sky eyes, you go with him quietly. Don’t run. Never run. You take its hand and you waltz on up to your judgment. Never run.”

He stood up and dumped his leftovers, a whole slice of cake included, and walked out of the galley. I realized I was alone and finished my cake, and went about my day.

The next morning I didn’t see my new acquaintance in the galley. I asked the server about him, but he didn’t know who I was talking about. I asked some of the other hands about him and no one seemed to know that there ever was a man by my description aboard. I checked the manifests and sure enough, no one by the name I was given had ever been aboard. But I remember every word the man said to me, his words burning inside of me.