The Wretched Clock

The four siblings, along with the doctor and the insurance agent, gathered around the dying man’s bed. George Harlow lay in solemn assent, and listened to the chatter that filled the room. He kept one eye on the wretched clock. It mocked him, tormenting his soul and flaunting its power. Eleven Thirty-Five and counting, the thinnest arm hurried along in its futile circle, bringing tomorrow ever closer. He had everything at one point, his own company and money enough to support his family for generations. Life insurance didn’t seem to be a concern, but with the persistence of his worrisome wife, he purchased a policy for three million, thirty years ago. Ironically, that policy was now the only asset George had left, and it expired at midnight.

“I understand your concerns Madie, but because of the… unusual circumstances surrounding this matter, I have a legal right to be here.” Said Allen Starkey, claims agent for Brentwood Life and Trust.

“You’re a vulture!” Screamed Madie Harlow. “You would just love for him to live through the night so you bastards could leave us high and dry!”

Doctor Barham gestured for Richard Harlow to remove Madie from the room. Richard nodded and approached her.

“Come on sis, let’s get a drink.”

“I don’t want a drink! I want this sniveling weasel out of my house!”

“Madie, this isn’t helping your father at all… go with your brother.” Said the Doctor, in his flat calmness.

“Yeah Madie, go on… besides… it’s not our house anymore… it’s the states.” Said Steven Harlow, younger brother and most successful, as a journalist for the Harold. “Just like everything else is the state’s.” He said the latter with a bitter taint.

Gloria Harlow sat on the edge of her father’s bed, holding his hand, and giving him an expression that said she was sorry he had to endure this in his final hours. She knew Madie was right, the vultures certainly came out at the smell of death, but Madie was the worst of the pack. Richard had his lot in this as well, but Gloria knew that his share would only pay his extravagant rent, and fuel his alcoholism for a few years, before it expired and left him homeless. Steven didn’t need the money, but he felt entitled. The most ambitious of the four, he made sure his hands clutched around every inch of what was due him. Gloria, however, loved her father, and she hated to have to watch him die.

Richard led Madie out, still complaining of Starkey’s presence and cursing his name. Doctor Barham came along side Gloria for one of his routine inspections.

“How goes it, old-timer?” Came the Doctor’s friendly tone, family physician for as long as any of the kids could remember.

“I just keep staring at that wretched clock… hoping I’ll die soon… I’d kill myself, if it didn’t nullify the policy.”

“Now, now old man…” The doctor placed a hand on George’s shoulder. “Don’t think about any of that, just relax and tell me if the pain comes back… I can fix that much, at least.”

“How can I not think about it? My four children stand around, knowing their future hangs in the balance… I bought that policy when I was fifty-two… the premiums were outrageous back then… but they were at least level… I wiped out the last of my bank account to make last month’s payment… hoping I’d be gone, but now it appears that it was a waste… all thirty years of it were a waste.”

“Well, we don’t know that just yet, dad." Said Steven.

Gloria shot cold eyes at her brother, narrowing them in disgust.

“What?” He responded, then snorted and went back to scribbling in his journal.

“Your mother…” George said, looking up to his daughter. “She was always so concerned about the future of you children… not that I wasn’t… I just never thought we would have to worry about any of this… it was when she left that I just couldn’t keep things together anymore…” Tears welled up in his eyes, and he pressed his lips together.

“Hush, now… it will all be ok, daddy.”

Gloria stroked his forehead and repressed her own tears. She thought about how, after all this time, he still couldn’t bring himself to say she died. It was always, "she left" or "she went away". The company indeed began to slip when the car accident claimed her mother. George blamed himself and fell into a deep depression. It was a few years later, when the government came down on the business for back taxes. George was oblivious to the matter. Little by little everything crumbled apart, until his entire estate fell claim to government property. The cancer had been present for a year already however, by the time it was detected, he was given a three-month prognosis.

“I’m ok, just leave me alone!” Said Madie, from somewhere in the hallway, and then pushed her way back into the room a few seconds later.

Richard followed behind her, giving the Doctor a shrug. They both had drinks in their hands; Richard’s notably stronger, Gloria was assured.

“How are you feeling, daddy?” Madie said with plastic concern. Surely wanting to hear a bad report, opposed to a good one.

“I’m dying sweetheart… as fast as I can…”

“Oh daddy!” She huffed, and retreated to her corner.

“What’s the word, doc?” Slurred Richard slightly.

“Same as it was ten minutes ago.” Replied the doctor.

“Oh… well that’s too bad…” He caught Gloria’s dagger glower and cleared his throat. “I-I mean, that he isn’t any better… I just meant… well you know what I meant.” He stammered.

“No Richard, Christ didn’t come and heal dad while you were gone… I know it’s a shock.” Said Gloria, the edge to her voice almost dangerous, as the revered older sister.

Richard frowned, sighed and then took a seat.

“Say, Allen…” Steven said to the claims agent, who had remained stone silent after Madie’s outburst. “Just out of curiosity, your company is based in Los Angeles, is that right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Mmhmm, but here we are in the beautiful state of Vermont, three whole hours ahead.”

“And what are you driving at?”

“Well, it would seem that your policies would be dictated by Pacific Time… which would only put us at eight forty-five…”

“Actually, Mister Harlow, a clause in the contract states that the time of death is dictated by the state in which the insured lives.”

“Is that right? You mind if I take a look at that bugger?”

“Be my guest.” Replied Starkey and handed Steven a copy.

As Steven occupied himself, reading stipulations and contingencies, Madie began to pace the room.

“This is so insane… how can he just sit there and wait like that?” She whined. “Are you leaving at midnight, and then tearing up the policy? Is that your plan?”

“My job is simply to see that actions are carried out in order… insurance companies face potential fraud all the time… no offence to Doctor Barham, but we have encountered close family doctors, that have no ill conscious about making false reports concerning the time of death…”

“Are you calling us con artists?” She screamed. “How dare you, bastard! You come into my home and call me a criminal to my face?”

“Madie, please….” Pleaded George, in a weak and diminishing voice. “Sweetheart… calm down now… he’s only doing his job.”

“Only doing his job? And his job is to make sure that I’m left broke?” Tears welled in her eyes. “I have nothing! No husband, like Gloria! No career, like Steven…” She sobbed, putting a hand to her face.

“I’m sorry sweetheart…”

“No! This is entirely your fault! You left me nothing! Nothing at all!”

George began to produce tears of his own. “I’m so sorry, honey… I never meant for it to be like this…”

“Well it is! Why don’t you just die already!”

“I’m trying!”

Gloria sprang up and barred her teeth. “That’s enough! All of you! You all disgust me!” She approached her younger sister, who now cowered in intimidation, realizing she had gone too far. “You’ve been the baby all your life! You were spoiled rotten and took advantage of everything daddy ever gave to you… you’ve sponged off of him ever since you dropped out of college and treated him like your personal piggy bank! Where were you after mom died? When he needed his family? When he needed support? You were partying and screwing every loser that got you high!” She turned to Steven.

"And you! You never come to family functions… you weren’t even at mom’s funeral! You only show your cocky little punk head when it benefits you somehow. You borrowed thousands from dad, out of college; before you were hired at the Harold… did Dad ever see that money again? Of course not! And now you wait around like a creep to collect on his death? You all make me so sick!”

Madie and Steven both sat with wide eyes and remained silent. Richard’s look of shock was of a different brand, second oldest next to Gloria and too buzzed to be rattled by the miserable truth. He stood and lifted a finger as if to come to his sibling’s defense.

“Now… waitaminute, Gloria.” He said, running the words together.

“Get out of my face you lush!” She grabbed Richard by the collar and slung him into the hallway, with a force he didn’t anticipate. He stumbled, lost his balance and fell on his rear. “All of you! Out!”

“Gloria…” It was Doctor Barham.

“I’m sorry Gary… but all of you need to give my poor dad some respect…”

He took a deep breath as he looked at the lovely woman in her early forties, always charmed by the girl when she used his first name.

“She’s right…” He said, looking around the room. “This is no way for a man to spend his final moments… please, let’s just give him peace, while we can.”

There were no complaints from Madie or Steven. Richard still sat on his rump in the hallway, rubbing his head. Barham ushered them out, placing a hand on Steven’s back and exiting the room. Starkey stood as well, but was clearly hesitant.

“Umm… Miss Barlow…”

“It’s Mrs. Jenkins… and don’t worry, you can come back in before midnight to make your assessment…”

The man only nodded a rueful gesture, clearly uncomfortable with the nature of his job, and left the room. Gloria closed the door, shielding her and her daddy from the brutal outside world. She sat back on the bed and continued to stroke his forehead.

“My little Gloria… always the strong one… so much like your mother.”

“That’s what you’ve always told me, daddy.”

“It’s true… so… how is Floyd anyway?”

“We’re struggling… he’s been laid off for over three months now… but life goes on…”

“He’s a good man… just facing some hard times… I know all about it.” This brought sorrow to the old man’s face. “My poor daughter… how did I let this happen? I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay daddy… none of this is your fault… it’s just circumstance… life…”

“My Gloria… always the strong one… just like your mother…”

Gloria sighed. A tear rolled down her cheek and her expression was severely pained.

“I know daddy… and… that’s why I’m the one who has to do this…”

“What, honey?”

Gloria took the pillow from the unused side of the bed, and clutched it in both hands.

“Sweetheart… what are you-“

She pressed the fluffy bringer of peace to his face and cried. Struggle wasn’t present, only a few small jerks from a body exhausting its final capsules of strength. After less than a minute the body lay still and the wretched clock read Eleven Fifty-Six.