Pam walked back to her family. It all seemed to quick now. The receptionist said that they would have to visit with the body soon, before it was taken to the morgue. The body. It wasn’t Jim anymore. It was as if the receptionist refused the mention of it being Jim, a living, breathing person. No, now it was just a body. Going to the morgue. When did that happen? Pam wondered. At what moment was Jim not Jim any more, but a lifeless body? The receptionist kept talking about funeral homes and release papers, but Pam just turned and walked back. How was she supposed to make these decisions? Any strength she imagined from Jim had disappeared when she heard ‘the body.’ It was as if that night was just going to be random phrases repeating in her head. She couldn’t decide if ‘the body’ was any better than ‘accident.’ Accident gave her hope at least, but accident was gone. It was hopeless now. STOP! Pam chastised herself. It wasn’t hopeless. She couldn’t let it be, not for those two little children who would now grow up fatherless.
Alex looked at her, still with resolve in his eyes. She wondered where he got that. How was she folding up like a paper doll, yet her ten year old had an iron will? She looked past Alex to Sophie, dozing on her grandmother’s lap. Pam wondered if she should allow Sophie to come with her and Alex. Should she go before both of them? She didn’t know how she was going to react. She didn’t want Alex in there if she had an emotional breakdown, but how would she ever be willing to let Alex go in there if she does. Sophie was probably far too young to understand, and she had good memories of her father. How would she feel though, years later, when she realizes she wasn’t able to say goodbye for the last time.
Pam’s mind swirls at the possibilities. For the thousandth time that night, she wishes Jim were there to guide her. She suddenly can’t even just focus on the present, but instead starts thinking about all the things that have yet to happen. Graduations, weddings, grandchildren. If her body had any tears or energy left, they surely would be gone now. Pam is nearly catatonic.
“Mom.” Alex says with an insistence far past his ten years. “I want to see dad.”
This brings Pam back to the present. Not that it was a better state of affairs. “Alex, your dad was pretty beat up. I don’t think it would be best if you saw him. Maybe at the funeral.”
“No. Now,” Alex is not taking no for an answer. Pam knows that she is the adult, but Alex seems to be taking the place. She stands up, and takes Alex’s hand.
They walk together in silence to the elevator. Alex walks with one purpose in mind. To see his father, for the final good bye. He has realized that, even though he has known it, he needs to see it. See that this wasn’t just a bad dream. He still hopes in the bottom of his heart that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t real. After all, he had been the one to say that his father was dead. Sure, his mom had said it when she was explaining it to Sophie. But, she had never said it to him directly. He could still have hope.
As Pam walked, she couldn’t help but watch everyone walking past. Mostly nurses and doctors wondered around, with a sense of importance and urgency unmatched by others. There were a few relatives. Some looked as if they had spent so much time there, they were just part of the furniture, as much as that couch, or that potted plant. Some people who walked by seemed happy. A new baby, a successful surgery, who knows why. Pam doesn’t think she could ever feel happy again. She tries to remember some happy moments, but they are all tainted by memories of a life taken.
Their first real date. Pam was giddy with excitement; she couldn't stop moving. Time seems to be going slower. She had been ready and waiting since four. Why had they agreed to seven? He had been waiting in his car down the block for 15 minutes before he had allowed himself to ring her doorbell 30 minutes early. They laughed about it at dinner, both of them ready to early. That date, although nothing really different than the friendly dinners they had shared before, was special. There was electricity between them, which no longer had to be denied. As they kissed goodnight, they both knew that they were always going to be impatiently waiting for the next date.
Michael proposing for Jim. He was going to ask that Friday night, after dinner. He had brought the ring to work. He had to keep looking at it, making sure it was real; nothing was going to screw tonight up. But Jim hadn’t counted on Michael. Michael had come by his desk asking for some forms. Not thinking, Jim opened up the drawer. That’s when Michael saw the ring box. “Oooh-e. Whatcha got here?” Picking up the box and opening it, he turned to Pam. “Looks like Slim Jim here is gonna give you something nice tonight.” Jim had looked a combination of embarrassed, horrified, and excited. Pam was in a state of shock. “Yes,” she quickly blurts out. Jim looks confused. “What?” “Yes. Yes. Yes!” Pam’s voice was rising. By now everyone in the office was looking at them. “But, I didn’t ask you.” “I don’t care, the answer is still yes.”
Pam had found out she was pregnant in early June. It took all her willpower to not call Jim up immediately. The pay off was going to be too great. For the next two weeks, she acted as if the sickness was no big deal. She put off going to the doctor because her art classes were taking up a lot of time. So she said. Finally, June 19th was there. Father’s day. She wrapped a (new) pregnancy test early that morning, and placed it at his seat at the table, waiting for him when he came down for breakfast. “What’s this?” “Oh, I just figured I would get you something special. I saw it and thought of you. No biggie.” Pam tried to play it cool, hoping her smile wouldn’t give her away. Pam tried to watch out of the corner of her eye as he opened it. “Pam…?” he asks, shocked. “February 22nd.” And places her hand on her stomach.
They step off the elevator into the basement. It is dark and cool. It has a sterility about it that exceeds even the normal expectation of a hospital. Pam squeezes her son’s hand reassuringly. They find the room. Pam can’t think of what the real name the receptionist used. She thinks of it as a holding area. Pre-morgue or whatever. Before they go into the door, she asks Alex once more, “You sure?”
Alex, his confidence fading now that he is so close, takes his time before he nods. He didn’t come all this way to turn back now. His father had taught him that. You finish what you start.
Pam opens the door. There is a worker, walking around with a clipboard. “May I help you?” he asks, not really looking up.
“Yes. Um, we would like to see my husband. Jim Halpert.”
“Halpert. H… Hal… Okay, here he is.” He walks over to a gurney near them. “You sure?”
Pam nods. If she waits another second, she fears that she would just run away. She has realized that she too, like Alex, needs to do this.
The worker lifts the sheet covering Jim’s head. “I’ll leave you alone,” and then leaves the room, the door swinging shut quietly.
Physically, his face was the same. A few small scratches, his hair mated with blood, but all in all, similar to how he had looked when he left this morning. The unmistakable difference was in his eyes. His eyes, shut thankfully, no longer glimmered with a teasing mood. They no longer sparkled as they did every day. His face looked lifeless. Pam understood why the receptionist upstairs called it a body. She couldn’t connect the fact that this… this was Jim.
Alex had stuck his hand under the sheet, and pulled out the hand. Alex was holding it, staring at it in his. The hand that was so large, seemed dwarfed suddenly. It was no longer attached to his father. His father was there, sure. Physically. But that hand, it was no longer the hand tickling him. No longer the hand that would tuck him into bed, even though Alex liked to insist he was too old for such childish things. It was just a hand. Seeing that hand made it real. His father was dead. There would be no more tickling, no more tucking in. That was taken away from him now. Alex drops the hand and covers his face with his hands. Pam drops to her knees as she hears her son sobbing, wrapping him in a hug. Pam tries to comfort him, but does not know how. They have both lost him. It is all to real now.
