Fear of Death

"You're pretty determined, aren't you?"

I was perched on a grimy wooden bench, gazing up at a small maple tree, from which a solitary leaf hung.

"Me?" the leaf asked, its tone polite but confused.

I nodded. "Of course."

The leaf fluttered slightly in the gentle breeze. "Well...I'm flattered, but I do think you're quite mistaken. Why do you suppose I'm determined?"

"All the other leaves have fallen off the branches, except for you," I pointed out. "See? There you are, bravely attached to your own branch, all by yourself yet bearing through the loneliness." Shrugging, I added, "Besides, you've survived two major storms. If that's not determined, I don't know what is."

"Then you probably don't," the leaf replied, as dryly as itself.

I frowned. "That's insulting. I know what determination is." I began flipping through a bound notebook in my lap. "I wrote an essay on it, once, for school. Let's see...ah! Here it is!"

The leaf chuckled. "Go ahead. Tell me what determination is."

"I wrote here that determination is 'being able to do something you have to do, at all costs.'"

"That settles it, then. You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

I glanced up from my notebook, an eyebrow arched. "You're pretty snobby for a leaf. Why don't you go ahead, since you seem to know what you're talking about? What's wrong with my definition?"

The leaf airily replied, "Your 'definition' - mind you, that's got quotes about it - is the same for fear."

"What?" I protested. "Fear is completely different!"

"Of course not! Think about it. Suppose you were confronted by a bear - a huge bear! And it's growling and snarling, and saliva is dripping onto its fur. What do you do?"

I shrugged. "Run away, I guess."

"Oh? What if that notebook you've got there was behind the bear?"

"I'd still run, and maybe hope to get it later."

It fluttered again. "There, you see? You're able to do something you have to do, run away and not get eaten, at all costs, like that notebook. And it's all because of fear."

I was silent for a few moments, gazing down at the essay I had written some number of weeks ago. Now that I remembered, I had gotten a ninety-three percent on it. Seven points off for grammatical errors, but there had been nothing in the teacher's comments about philosophical errors. Finally, I said, "So you're hanging onto the branch not because of determination?"

"That's right."

"But because of...fear?"

The leaf sighed. "Right again."

I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "I don't think I understand, though."

"Would you?"

Ignoring its comment, I went on, "What are you so afraid of?"

"I would have thought it obvious, really."

"Are you afraid of heights?"

It considered this for a moment. "You might say that. It's not truly so, however. I, dear human, am afraid of Death."

"You're afraid of death?"

"No. Not death. Death."

I flipped through the pages of the notebook, before arriving at a seven-hundred-fifty word rant I had written shortly after my grandmother's funeral. In that piece, I had talked much about death, but there was no mention of Death. "Is there a difference?"

"Yes. A huge one. Enormous."

"Bigger than an elephant?"

It tutted. "Now you're just getting silly. Of course it's much bigger than an elephant. It's bigger than anything you've known, and anything you will ever know."

"If you...if you fall off that branch, will you die? Or...I mean...Die?"

"I shan't die, and there's no such thing as Dying." The leaf swayed in the wind. "I will, though, meet Death."

"He's a person?"

"Death is not a person, and Death is not a he."

I clicked my pen repeatedly. "What is - what is Death, then?"

"Death." The wind grew stronger, and the leaf danced to the rhythm of it.

"Why are you afraid of Death?"

"Because Death is somewhere."

"Everywhere's somewhere."

The leaf snorted. "Fool. Only Death is somewhere. Everywhere else is nowhere. Or, you could say only Death is nowhere, and everywhere else is somewhere." It trembled violently, its voice shaking as it added, "Take your pick. But do it quickly."

"Quickly? Why?"

"Because."

"Because?"

But the leaf didn't answer, and only shook in the increasingly stronger wind. There was a sudden, violent gust, a small cry of terrible emotion, and the leaf was soaring. Sunlight filtered through its bright red plumage, and I basked in this light for a moment, before the leaf sank gracefully to the dust.

I tossed my notebook aside and raced forward to it. "Are you all right?"

There was a quiet noise. Bending forward, my ear hovered above it, and I repeated my question.

"Thank you," I heard a faint voice.

"And you."