Agnes’s Choice
Agnes’s Choice
‘I am a ghost. But not an ordinary one. I am here to be your guide through your life. The one you just lived.’
‘But—’
‘You see, young man – I know you died at eighty-one … but look at you. Handsome and young.’
He looked again at the smooth skin of his hands.
‘I am, I suppose, your own personal instruction manual. And the Midnight Train is simply the journey everyone goes on at the end of their life. It’s not always on a train. But it is normally a mode of transport. For your father, it was an aeroplane.’
Wilbur thought about this. It sounded familiar.
He’d had a conversation recently with someone about the afterlife, but he just couldn’t remember the details.
It was strange. How he could remember things from decades ago – like Agnes Bagdale – but the few days before his death, everything was unclear.
It was like death was a fog that spread and slowly dissipated behind itself.
‘How do you know all this?’
‘As I said, I am not an ordinary ghost. In taking on this role, in choosing to help you, I was given knowledge. I am very much the spirit of Agnes Bagdale. But with some added extras that I seem to have been blessed with in order to guide you. You pass through the walls of eternity and it happens. I suppose one way to think of me is that I am the soul of a bookseller combined with the reality of time and the universe. So I know all kinds of things. About you, mainly.’
‘What even is this?’
‘This is death. Where your life flashes before your eyes. This is how it happens. Fast and slow. Like life …’
Although Wilbur accepted the reality of his death, he was a little slow in accepting the details.
He glared at Agnes. ‘No. Stop it. This isn’t real.
This is some kind of delusion, an afterthought …
like a brain blip after dying … I saw something about it once …
about how brainwaves continue for a while after death …
’ She was clearly – he tried to tell himself – some kind of deathly hallucination, and it wasn’t bad etiquette to be rude to a hallucination. And yet, he did feel bad for his tone.
She picked a speck of fluff from her shoulder, then gave him a brisk smile.
‘Listen, Wilbur, reality is different in death. And it takes some getting used to. On the train, you will be in the world of the Dead. But when the train stops, you will, Old Bean, be going back in time. As a ghost. Back to a very real and living world. Then, at the final destination, eternity.’
‘Eternity? You mean, heaven?’
‘Well, that depends.’
‘On?’
‘On how heavenly you find the idea of seeing people again.’
‘You mean I could see Maggie there?’
‘When she dies, yes. Yes, you will. Other people too. People you knew in life. Your brother, Dougie, for instance …’
He shook his head in disbelief.
‘In fact,’ qualified Agnes, ‘in eternity you see whoever you want to see. You are free. And happy – or you could be … All that jazz.’
‘Could be?’
‘Yes. The happiness is dependent on how you view your life. That’s the whole point of this train. It’s to help you understand your life … to really know what it has been. Now, your moment has come, Old Bean. Ticket, please.’
He looked around. He noticed the train station wasn’t really a station at all. It was just a platform. And the platform was barely longer than the train. The paved ground ended in a ragged line, like a torn piece of paper, and beyond that: nothing.
The whole place seemed suspended in the cosmos.
There was, quite literally, nowhere to go.
So, after a few seconds of deliberation, Wilbur walked towards Agnes and handed her the ticket. And, feeling a sense of apprehension, he stepped on board.