Written By: Oktay Ege Kozak
Candace Morgan leaned forward on her chair and took one last, long sip off her mocha in order to prepare herself for the end of the world. It was to be her final personal indulgence in life, before everything for every living being on earth was to come to its sudden, unapologetic end. ‘At least it will be beautiful’ she thought to herself, ‘At least I know that much.’ The thought gave her comfort, moments before an event she knew was coming since was eight-years-old.
It was exactly twenty-one years ago when she was out on a day at the beach with her parents. Excited about the brand new kite her father bought for her eighth birthday, she immediately set out to test this colorful new addition to her collection. As soon as the kite was flying up in the air, it drifted to a more secluded part of the beach and suddenly crash landed behind a large group of rocks. It was as if the only reason it was created, bought and given as a birthday present was to eventually lead Candace to that direction.
Candace immediately ran after the kite, hoping it wasn’t obsolete after only a simple test flight. Her father noticed her running away like a puppy after a tennis ball. He yelled behind her, “Candace, don’t go too far!”
“I won’t dad!” Candace yelled back, without cutting her speed or even turning around to acknowledge her father’s worry. She ran as fast as she could and turned the corner around the rocks. As soon as she found out what was behind them, she stopped on her tracks.
The first reaction that came into her mind was to gasp in fear. But her parents taught her not to be rude to strangers. They also told her to be careful of strangers, and not to talk to them at all costs. These two contradicting beliefs was why she was feeling conflicted about what to do next. Also, whoever it was standing next to the kite definitely didn’t look like he belonged there.
He was a young man. If Candace had to guess, she would say he appeared to be in his early twenties, like her cousin Jeremy. The man had on what appeared to be a genuine, rather beautiful smile. He had light brown skin, short well-groomed hair and for some reason he was wearing a suit. It was obvious he took a lot of care in his appearance.
Everything from his light brown pants, his crisp clean white shirt, his silk jacket to his calm, friendly demeanor were all there to create a comforting first impression. That look might have been perfect for a dinner meeting with the CEO of a multi-million dollar company. But on a beach, in the middle of the day?
Without taking a single step towards Candace, the man leaned forward to her eye level.
“Are you Candace Brown?” the man asked with a soft voice.
Candace knew deep in her heart that this man did not mean harm. She could not explain how she knew, but she did. So in her innocent little head, she came up with a compromise. She nodded, confirming her name. This way she managed to interact with the man, while also obeying her parents since she did not technically talk to a stranger.
“That’s okay” the man said, laughing kindly. “You don’t have to talk. But I’m afraid I will have to ask you to listen. I need you to listen to me very carefully. As if what I’m about to tell you is the most important thing in the world, which it is. Do you think you can do that, dearest Candace?”
Candace took a deep breath and with dedication in her eyes, she nodded once again.
“Great”, the man said, “I’m very happy to hear that.”
He took two steps towards Candace and leaned down to her eye level again. This time he looked directly into her eyes, to make sure she focused her entire attention on what he had to say. He only had a single chance at this, so he knew he had to do it right. This is what the man said, word by word:
“On the second day of November, the year Two Thousand and Nine, at exactly two thirty-seven in the afternoon, the world and every living being in it, will come to an end.”
--
Candace never told anyone what the well-dressed man told her at the beach that day. Apart from being afraid of finding herself locked up in some remote asylum, she didn’t find any use in divulging anything about what she experienced. After all, who would believe her? Every time she passed one of those homeless crazies prophesizing the end of the world, she thought to herself, ‘What if...?’ But then the dates they came up with for the end have always been wrong.
At first, she was terrified. An eight-year-old girl carrying on her shoulders the most important piece of information ever bestowed on any human. At such an early age, she knew exactly when she and everyone else she knew were going to die. For a while, this was all she could think about.
But in time, the fear gave itself to acceptance. Candace decided that instead of being afraid of the inevitable, she would enjoy her life in the moment and make the best of the time she was given. In a way, the information she initially thought of as a curse, became a blessing in disguise as Candace became one of the handful of people on earth who perfected the ability to fully appreciate every moment of their life.
And finally, the day had come.
Candace did not make any specific plans on how she would spend her last day. She figured she would make it up as the hours went by. She didn’t set up an alarm. Her whole life she had been busy living and on her final day, she thought she could finally use some rest. So she slept in, and woke up sometime between nine-thirty and ten AM. She didn’t immediately jump up out of bed and get ready to face the day like she usually did. Instead, she kept lying in bed and did nothing but stare at the ceiling, counting cracks and imperfections.
After a while, she knew it was time to get up. After careful deliberation, Candace realized she didn’t want to indulge in any excessive activities, like eating bucketfuls of fatty foods or streaking up and down the aisle in the neighborhood church. She wanted to spend her day drenched in a coat of simplicity. She decided she would take a long shower, call her mother and have a cup of joe at her favorite café around the corner.
The shower she took that morning was the most refreshing one she experienced in decades. Every drop that touched her dry pale skin took on a life of its own, covering her body, protecting her. She looked at her reflection as she brushed her teeth. She looked deep inside herself, searching for true answers to very important questions: ‘Am I a good person? Did I lead a good life?’
‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘I was a good person. I did lead a good life.’ This was all she could ask for. She combed her hair, twenty times to the front and twenty times to the back.
Candace didn’t want to have a profound and emotional talk with her mother. She didn’t want a performance that exploited the simple sadness that came with the realization of finality. She didn’t want to get to a point where she would have to hold back the wellspring of tears and end the conversation with a heartfelt “I love you”, preceded by dramatic pause.
Her mother was the only person Candace decided to call that day. She had already spent an adequate amount of time with her friends the week before and her father had died ten years ago, due to a fatal car crash. At the time Candace was mad at the well-dressed man for not telling her when her father was going to die.
In a way, Candace had a lovely conversation with her mother. The profoundness of her silent farewell to the person she loved the most in life came through in its simplicity. They merely chit-chatted about the weather, their favorite TV shows, politics and whether or not to replace Candace’s windows with double-plated Plexiglas in order to better prepare for the winter.
When Candace told her mother she loved her at the end of the half hour long conversation, she said it exactly the way she did her whole life, with a quick affirmation of honesty, respect and caring. She hung up immediately thereafter.
Candace took her time getting dressed even though she only wore a pair of blue jeans and her favorite cream colored sweatshirt. Before she left the house there was one last thing to be done.
Climbing on a sturdy chair, Candace popped open one of the tiles on the ceiling. She reached her hand inside and moved it around until she found what she was looking for, a silver key attached to a piece of duct tape.
She immediately made her way to the inside of her closet. In the back, hidden behind a pile of shoe boxes was a small safe. The dirt and dust surrounding the safe made it obvious it hadn’t been touched in years. Candace used the key to open the safe’s thick and heavy padlock. The safe creaked open, revealing a small wooden flute.
--
At the corner café Candace sat outside, as far away as possible from the seven other people who, unbeknownst to them, were having their final meals. She ordered a mocha and nothing else. She didn’t really feel hungry. It was almost two in the afternoon. A little over half an hour left.
Candace took small sips from her mocha, enjoying every drop that touched her lips. She looked out at the small crowd of people on the street. It was the middle of the day on a Monday. Most of the people were already back at work, having just finished their lunch. Some of those smart people, who preferred to take late lunches to avoid the lines, were hurrying back to work, still holding onto a crumpled up napkin to wipe whatever food residue was left on the side of their mouths.
No children passed by, flying kites or holding balloons with innocent smiles plastered on their faces. No cute kittens or adorable dogs with goofy faces happened to present themselves, accompanied by young couples in the throes of love. There was no reassurance of innocence, no representation of true love. There was only life, in its simplest form, in its vibrant existence, in its final minutes. Candace enjoyed the last sip from her mocha and placed it back on the table.
“Will that be all?” the friendly tall waiter asked as a casual confirmation on his way to picking up the empty cup. Candace politely nodded. She produced her credit card from the front pocket of her jeans and gave it to the waiter. She didn’t feel like taking her wallet with her but she also didn’t want to go wherever she was going as a thief of overpriced hot beverages. Still holding onto his smile, the waiter said “I’ll be right back.” Candace looked at the time on her cell phone. It was two thirty-two. Five minutes to go.
In less than thirty seconds, the waiter brought back Candace’s bill. He looked at the full name printed on Candace’s credit card. “Here you go Candace. Or is it Isra… Israf...?”
Candace cut the waiter off before he strained more of his face muscles, trying to pronounce her unusual middle name. “Israfil” Candace said, “It’s Israfil.”
“Israfil” the waiter repeated to himself, “Cool name. Haven’t heard that one before.”
“Thanks”, Candace said, “I added it when I was in college.”
“What does it mean?”
Candace searched her mind to come up with an adequate white lie. Before she could figure one out, an obnoxious customer called for the waiter. “Excuse me,” he grunted, asking for service. He looked very impatient. ‘Such irony’, Candace thought.
Realizing he should get back to work, the waiter smiled for the last time and said “Have a good week Candace.” He turned around to take his last order.
Candace looked at the time. Two thirty-five. Two minutes to go. The time had come. She was ready. She wasn’t particularly scared about dying. She had come to terms with that fact a long time ago. It was what she was about to do that scared her.
--
“On the second day of November, the year Two Thousand and Nine, at exactly two thirty-seven in the afternoon, the world and every living being in it, will come to an end”, the young man said. He stood back up and took his gaze away from Candace. He looked away at the sea in order to give Candace some space, so the eight-year-old could have some time to sink it all in.
“Everyone will die?” Candace asked.
“Yes” the man said, “Everyone will die.”
“Including me?”
“Yes. Including you.”
Candace was confused, angry and bitter. This was an intense combination of feelings that Gabriel, the well dressed young man felt in others of her kind many times before. Every time he was entrusted with delivering a vital piece of information to one of them, he was always met with a similar reaction. The first question was also always the same: “Why me? Why are you telling me this?”
Gabriel patiently leaned down again to Candace’s eye level. He gently caressed Candace’s cheek and wiped away the tear that was running down her left cheek. “Do you have any idea, little Candace, how long we searched to find you? You have a beautiful soul. It is pure, simple, and magnificent. And it will remain this way all your life. Do you know how rare and precious that is?”
Candace shook her head to the tune of an uncertain ‘No.’
Gabriel continued. “And only a soul as pure as yours could understand the beauty of the music that will bring the end.”
“What music?” Candace asked with utter confusion in her eyes.
Gabriel reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, wooden flute. He brought himself down to his knees and presented the flute to Candace as if she was royalty. He looked down at the sand and recited: “Candace Morgan, we humbly ask you to become the angel Israfil. Use this simple instrument to play the most beautiful music ever heard, and signify the end of the world.”
For a long time, Candace didn’t say anything. Gabriel slowly raised his head to look at Candace, desperately expecting an answer.
“You want me to kill people?” Candace asked.
“No.” Gabriel sighed, “We want you to release them. You see, the end will not be violent. It will not be scary. There won’t be any punishment or judgment. It will be silent, and calm, and full of peace. Every creature in the world will hear your music. It will fill their hearts with happiness, and soothe their minds.”
“What happens after?” Candace asked.
Gabriel shrugged. “Who Knows?”
Candace smiled. She looked at the flute, still in Gabriel’s hand. She was calmer now, but still uncertain.
“I don’t expect you to understand right this moment.” Gabriel said, “In fact, I can’t expect you to ever understand. That wouldn’t be fair for me to ask.”
Candace thought for a long time. She slowly took the flute from Gabriel’s hand. She looked at it, measuring its shape and size, appreciating its simplicity. She slid the small instrument into the back pocket of her shorts and used the bottom of her t-shirt to hide the tip that was sticking out. With a big smile on his face, Gabriel said “Thank you Candace.”
With uncertainty still in her eyes, Candace simply said “Don’t mention it.”
--
Inside the café, Candace kept her eyes on the time. Two thirty-six. One minute to go. Candace placed her cell phone back in her pocket. She started counting in her head as she pulled up the bottom of her sweatshirt, which was hiding the tip of the flute sticking out from her jeans’ back pocket.
She pulled the flute out and held it close to her lips. She took a deep breath, counted the remaining five seconds and began to play the most beautiful music ever heard. All of a sudden, every living creature in the entire world was filled with an overwhelming sense of beauty and inner peace. A blinding white light appeared out of nowhere and covered Candace, the way it did everything else. And then there was silence.
THE END