Racing Against the Cosmos: Henry's Bid for Success

The day I died, I had a raging hangover.

There was one day on Earth that made me wish I was still living in the middle ages. I'd been doing very well there. The local barkeep gave me a job behind the bar and I made a little bit of money. The only bad thing about being on Earth was the damn gravity, but I got used to it after a few weeks.

I wasn't the best with alcohol, but I liked the taste. One time, I tried to drink the bar's entire stock of wine, but the owner caught me halfway through and beat my ass. I didn't try again.

That day, I'd gone home with a girl from the bar. It was a lot of fun because she was an alien, and even though I couldn't understand her words I could tell she was enjoying herself by the way she responded. The next morning, I was hung over, she was gone, and I had no money.

That was my final straw. I went to the local councilman and told him that I wanted to be sent to work on another planet. He laughed at my face and told me he had no need for new workers.

"I'm not asking to be a worker," I said. "I want to be a manager. That way I can make money and get a better place to live."

The councilman shook his head. "If you're not working you don't get paid, and if you don't pay your rent they'll throw you out into the street."

"Then I'll give my money to the landlord," I said. "If I'm paying rent I must be getting paid a little bit, right?"

The councilman ran a hand through his oily hair. "I suppose you have a point there," he said. "But you're not ready for that yet. You need to get a job first, then learn how to deal with the customers."

"I already know how to deal with customers," I said. "And I'm good at it."

The councilman looked at me a little bit longer, then sighed. "Fine," he said. "Take this job application. I'll hire you as a general badger catcher. You can start tomorrow."

I accepted the job application, thanked him, and went home. As soon as I got there, I called the barkeep. It was afternoon, so he answered the phone.

"Hey," I said. "I'm back on Earth. I need you to give me my job back."

He sighed. "Look, kid. I gave you a chance because you were an alien. I like aliens. But you fucked up big time. I can't let you back."

"Please," I said. "If you give me my job back I'll pay off my debts and never get drunk again."

There was a long silence, then the barkeep sighed. "I can't do that, kid. But I can give you a different job. You don't have to deal with people. You just have to do some paperwork."

"That's great!" I said. "Where are you?"

"Hold on," he said. "I'll be right over."

Less than five minutes later, the barkeep showed up at my door. He was carrying a small box with him. "This is a translater," he said. "You wear it on your ear. When you're talking to aliens, it translates their language to English so you can understand it. This way, you don't have to learn their language. It's pretty advanced technology."

"That sounds great," I said, trying to hide my eagerness. "So what do I have to do?"

"Inside," he said, opening the door. "Look at the papers on my desk. You'll see that there are some customers who don't show up on the regulars list. They aren't customers, so don't treat them like customers. Just give them the paperwork and take their money. You'll get your cut later."

I nodded and he left. I went inside and sat down at his desk. I opened up the drawers and found the register. There was a neat stack of papers on top of it. I picked them up, put them on his desk, and read through them.

"What the hell?" I muttered. "These guys all died before they could pay."

I flipped through the stack more carefully. "Heh," I laughed. "This guy drank himself to death!"

I looked at the next paper. "She died of cancer!"

I looked at the next paper.

"He was murdered!"

I looked at the next paper.

"He was murdered, too! And so was this guy!"

I looked at the next paper.

"...Oh fuck."

I dug through the drawers until I found the registry for the bar. I flipped through it and found the first page.

"Hey, that's me!" I said. "I'm Henry! That's weird."

I flipped forward a few pages and found the last entry.

"That's me again," I said. "That's not good."

I flipped back to the first page. I skimmed through the list of names until I found the name of the owner of the bar.

"It's me," I said. "Oh fuck."

I sat down in the chair, feeling dizzy. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down.

"Okay, Henry," I said. "You've got it pretty good here. The job pays really well, and all you have to do is wear your translator while you talk to customers. You can do this, Henry. You can fucking do this."

I took another deep breath. I looked down at the box with the translator. I picked it up, put it on my ear, and pressed the button on the side.

"Henry," a calm female voice said. "Are you in danger?"