Chapter 12: Death II

As Duncan entered his house, he observed some voices coming from the living room. The lights in the home were switched on, the boy could smell tea, and he noticed that the television near the bar was still turned on.

"Mum?" Duncan called as he switched off the television. "Is there a guest? You left the tv on."

"In the living room!" His question was answered by a yell.

Duncan entered the living room after confirming his mother's presence. He could smell the tea becoming stronger; he could also smell something familiar but couldn't place it.

He noticed two people sitting in front of his mother as he entered the living room. One was a guy, the other a woman.

He recognized the man; it was Stephen Strange.

"Duncan," Strange said. "I didn't know that school nowadays finishes this late in the evening."

"I had some things to take care of." Duncan merely replied, privately sighing in relief that it was just him. The boy sat next to his mother. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I didn't have time to visit your mother while she was in the hospital," Strange stated.

"Do you know each other?" Catherine was quite perplexed.

"We bumped into each other in the elevator. Quite a good kid you have." Strange stated. "Oh, Duncan, this is Christine Palmer, your mother's colleague."

Duncan simply smiled and nodded. "Hi."

"Hello," Palmer said. "I often saw you in the hospital, sitting in the park in front."

"Yeah…"

"Well, if I had known Catherine had a gunshot in her thigh, I would have offered to be the surgeon." Strange spoke abruptly, making an unusual assertion.

Catherine's brow furrowed. "Stephen. You're a neurosurgeon."

"Still, I would do it if it was a friend." Stephen shrugged.

"Friend is a bit of a stretch," Catherine admitted. "And do you really just say that in front of your girlfriend?"

"Come on, Catherine, we're professionals, not horny teenagers." Strange shot back. He turned to face Duncan. "No offense."

Duncan simply shrugged. "None taken."

Palmer simply sighed in response to the discourse. She spoke while resting her hands on her thighs.

"Anyway," she said gently. "It's already dark, and I'm sure Duncan's tired from a long day at school."

"Oh, yes." Strange said. He and Palmer rose up and extended their hands to Catherine.

"I'll see you at the office," he said.

"Sure," Catherine said as she shook his hand. Strange then extended his hand to Duncan.

"I'll see you around, kid," he said. The boy nodded and shook the doctor's hand.

They were escorted to their car by Catherine and Duncan. Catherine complained as the car drove away from the parking lot. "What a pompous arsehole. I have no idea what Christine sees in him."

"Yeah, I can tell..." Duncan murmured.

"Anyway, why are you so late?" Duncan's mother said.

"Oh, I had to check out the clubs around the school," Duncan explained. "I missed the fair last week, so I had to look around myself."

"Have you joined one yet?" Catherine asked as she closed the door.

"No, but I was planning on trying out for the football team."

"Football team?" Catherine was perplexed. "As in American football or what Americans call "soccer"?"

"The former," Duncan said.

"Are you certain you can do it? You're tall, but you're also rather slender."

"Well I can always bulk up." Duncan shrugged.

His mother laughed. "Yeah, that will work."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Duncan was upset.

Catherine simply sighed. "Just go to bed. If you're hungry, there's some Chinese in the fridge that you can heat up if you want."

His mother then left for her room, leaving Duncan alone.

The boy then looked at the scenery outside, to the place where Strange's car was parked. The rain was still heavily pouring outside, the occasional flashes of thunder lit up the dark sky of Queens, a chilly wind sometimes passed through the window.

He thought about Strange and his eventual connection with the masters of the mystic arts, while he is still hesitant about visiting them, he planned to go there this weekend, to see if they would accept him as a student.

—

Wednesday, After school. Duncan sat in front of the nurse's station yet again. He was dressed normally, in a plain black t-shirt with a black and gray hoodie over it. He no longer wears his glasses to school, but he does so for "fashion" purposes on occasion.

In front of him is Miss Lang; again, she doesn't bring anything—no notepad, no pen—only her purse.

"So, Duncan." Marcia stated. "Anything interesting that you want to tell me?"

"Not much, really." Duncan murmured. "Mr. Harrington announced a visit to Stark Industries. So I guess that'll be fun next week. I also want to try out for the football team."

"Oh really? Duncan, that's progress; you've finally come out of your shell." Miss Lang smiled. "Perhaps you'll learn something here and there. I'm sure fate will make your life more interesting from now on."

"Fate? That's an interesting twist," Duncan noted. "Marcia, do you believe in fate?"

"Well, I believe there are such inevitables as death or the eventual ending of the universe," answered Marcia.

"So you believe it?" Duncan said it again.

"In a way, yes," Miss Lang replied. "Now I'm a woman of science, yet mankind's knowledge is simply a drop in the ocean. We are often arrogant and believe that what we don't know means it doesn't exist or that it is obvious stupidity."

"There is some truth to that, but a lot of those "unknown" things are definitely stupid." Duncan shrugged. "If you believe in fate, then do you not think that we have true freedom? You stated that there are unavoidables, so does this indicate that we humans, who want freedom, will never be truly free? The concept of fate itself traps a man or a woman on a certain path in his or her life, making it impossible to change anything and making hard work practically useless. Are we such toys to the ones who control fate?"

"Now, even if I said there are unavoidables, that doesn't mean that all of our lives can't be changed," Miss Lang responded. "Only some things cannot be changed, such as death."

"Even if the way we died?" Duncan frowned.

"The way you die doesn't matter, Duncan." Miss Lang smiled. "Every human being will surely die at some point, one way or another. That is the inevitable truth, a fate that everyone has. Even those Asgardians like Thor will die at some point."

"You seemed awfully adamant about that." Duncan continued. "What if there are immortals out there? Surely they exist, even like you said, those Asgardians that came from a myth turns out to be real. Surely there's an immortal somehow."

Miss Lang laughed. "Example?"

"I'm not sure. A sorcerer?" Duncan shook his head. "Like that person I saw during the massacre."

"As I already stated, every being will die at some point. The universe will come to an end, and all of those immortals will die too," answered Miss Lang. "And at that time, only death remains."

"You talk as if death were a single entity." Duncan inquired, fascinated.

"Humans have a wide range of beliefs, Duncan." Miss Lang went on. "Some believe that an angel will reap your soul when the time comes, while others believe that specific gods control the concept of death itself."

"What do you believe then? The latter?" Duncan inquired.

"Well…" Miss Lang laughed. "I believe that a pretty lady will greet you when you die."

"Haha, very funny." Duncan sighed and rolled his eyes. The boy then turned to face the ground. He tapped his fingers carefully on the chair, as though deep in thought.

"Although, if that were the case, I would pity her," answered Duncan.

Miss Lang was perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Must have been... depressing," Duncan said. "To greet every soul who has died. to hear their heartbreaking tales. to calm them down, as their deaths were heinous. To witness them commit suicide because they were fed up with living..."

Miss Lang was silent.

"But what would I know, huh? I'm just a teenager that has a lot on his mind." Duncan laughed awkwardly, though Duncan could soon hear the sound of chains breaking—a sound of ranking up.

Miss Lang only gave him a smile. "Indeed Duncan."

The woman looked at the time and saw that it had passed their period. "It looks like we're out of time. I'll see you this Friday."

"Oh, I have tryouts... so maybe we could reschedule?"

"Actually, that's not necessary; I am quite busy this Friday." Miss Lang quickly changed her mind. "So I'll see you next week."

"Okay. Thank you, Marcia," said Duncan, leaving the room quietly.

Meanwhile, Marcia just sat there, hands on the desk, and appeared to be deep in contemplation.