Kay took a seat next to the god, who offered one of the alcohol laden glasses to the boy. He accepted the glass but decided to not yet drink the intoxicating liquid. There were questions to be asked, or at least one that he wanted an answer to.
"How did I die?" said Kay.
It was a reasonable question. The young man hadn't thought much of his life. He had left no lingering hopes behind. In recent days he had even been pondering the purpose of life, not necessarily in a suicidal way, but he couldn't deny that he may have eventually started to think those dark, disturbing thoughts. Regardless, it didn't seem right that he didn't remember his end. If the old man truly was a god, then he could provide the information. However, …
"I'm afraid I can't answer that," said the god.
"Ok" Kay spoke with an exaggerated sigh.
"Let me get this straight. You claim to be a god, tell me I'm stuck here because I died, and then refuse to elaborate. What the hell?" shouted Kay.
"How am I supposed to know how you died?" said the god bluntly.
A slap could be heard, as Kay facepalmed himself. The whole situation was starting to get on his nerves. The god was acting like a teacher who didn't even know their own subject. How could a god not have the answers he was looking for?
"Care to play a game of darts, Kay?" asked the god.
"Will it answer my question?"
"It might."
Having no other options, Kay agreed to a game of darts with the god. The two walked over to the darts board and settled on playing a game of 301, though the god had initially insisted they play 501, Kay wasn't in the mood for a long game. And so, the pair started to play, throwing darts in turns. The first to lower their points from 301 to 0 would be the winner.
The god went first and landed a triple 20, worth 60 points.
"What the hell?" said Kay
The god didn't acknowledge the young man. He simply stepped aside, waiting for Kay to take his turn. It was odd. He acted like a seasoned pro.
Kay took his turn and landed a double 17. On those nights out with his dad and cousin, he had learned the basics of the game, though it was essentially a game of chance for someone of his level. He wasn't skilled enough to choose his target, but he could at least land it within a general area.
The game began, and a few turns later was nearing its end. On each subsequent turn, the god had scored a bullseye or some other high value zone. In contrast, Kay was performing at a much slower pace. His opening double 17 was the best throw he'd had. Five turns later and he'd hit a handful of single digit zones and a triple 4, netting him a net total of not nearly enough damn points.
On the god's penultimate turn, he scored another bullseye, bringing his score down to a single point. All he needed was one measly point and the game would be his. Kay was confident that he'd have no trouble hitting it. The god had been humiliating him the entire game. The game was essentially over, and he hadn't even gotten half the points he needed.
Kay slugged over to the board. In the end, it didn't even take him a second to throw his dart, although it wasn't quite a throw. To say that he threw the dart would imply that he had a target, which he didn't. He just wanted the game to be over. A clack could be heard against the wooden wall as the haphazardly chucked dart pathetically found something to hit.
The young man walked over to the bar where he retook his seat. He expected the god to call him out on his poor sportsmanship, but he simply followed Kay back and resumed their earlier conversation.
"How was that game, was it fun?" asked the god.
"You know damn well I didn't enjoy myself! I didn't even want to play in the first place and not only did that not answer any of my question, but now I feel like a loser."
"Well, I assure you that I don't feel like a winner."
"You sure looked like one from where I was standing."
"Didn't I seem quite a bit better than I did before."
"What do you mean?"
"Surely, even you, oblivious to the people around you, noticed how I was playing when you first entered this bar."
Kay thought back on what he'd seen.
"Yeah, you sucked. You wouldn't hit your target worth a damn."
"But?"
All the actions Kay had written off as childish came to mind: the subtle curses when he misses his target and the cry of jubilation when he scored big. Although, the quirks were annoying to Kay he couldn't help but envy them.
"You were having fun," the boy said wistfully as though it was a concept he'd long forgotten.
"To come clean, there was a clear difference as to how I played against you to how I was playing earlier. In our game, I made use of my divine powers. My omnipotence, my omniscience. I used every tool at my disposal to win."
"So, there was no way I could've beaten you."
"I assure you that even the world's best darts player would've found himself utterly outclassed." The god gave him a wry smile and continued.
"But I confess that I found our game utterly boring. It's one of the many reasons why I rarely use my powers."
"They seem pretty good from where I'm sitting," said Kay.
"I'm sure they do. To answer your earlier question, I don't know how you died. Furthermore, I refuse to use my omniscience to find out. Just as you have many things you dislike, as do I."
"So where does that leave me?"
Not learning of his death was a minor disappointment. His wanting had been mere curiosity. There were a number of ways he could've died: homicide, illness; hell with everything he'd seen the god do even magic seemed like a possibility. It would've been nice to have a definitive answer, but at this point it was a what-if, it didn't matter. The more he thought about it the less it mattered. Kay had rarely valued his life, what sense did it make to value his death?
"Seeing as I refuse to use my powers anymore, I can only tell you what I do know. This place isn't the afterlife. It's known as limbo and that door will take you wherever you want to go."
The god pointed at the door Kay had unsuccessfully tried to open. Just as before, Kay saw it as nothing but a plain, slightly roughed up wooden door. A shoddy door at that, considering that the damn thing didn't even open.
"But…" Kay was cut off by the god.
"I know it didn't open for you earlier. Like I said, it'll take you anywhere you want. But you have to know where you're going. Jeez, you just can't let a person finish talking, can you?" The god said, sloshing down the remainder of the liquor bottle.
"Okay, I'm leaving then." Kay pushed his stool out and tried to stand up only to feel a firm hand on his shoulder.
"At least have a drink with me before you leave. Honestly, I can't stand you. You're unlikable in a dozen different ways. You're lazy, unsociable, self-loathing, unattractive…"
"Ok, I get it."
"Oh, and you're a sore loser. Don't think I didn't notice your last move. Who stops trying just because they're gonna lose?"
"Well, then you'd better find a better drinking partner." Kay once again tried to get up only to be stopped by the weight of the god's hand.
"Since I'm not sure when I'll have another visitor, you'll have to do. Only the special cases get sent here, though nowadays your kind are getting rarer and rarer."
The god took the two glasses that he'd poured earlier, taking one in each hand. One of the liquor-filled glasses he took for himself, and the other he once again tried handing to Kay.
The young man had no intention of taking the glass. Kay's mind was unchanged hearing the god's plight. He wanted to leave. The events of the bar had pushed the introvert past his limits. He didn't care if his conversation partner was a god, much less a drunk one.
His resolve was firm, until he made the mistake of looking at the god. Aside from occasional glances, this was the first time Kay clearly looked at the god's face. He had glimpsed the dull brown eyes, perused the auburn beard, and caught peeks at the wrinkles etched in the god's weary face. However, taking everything in all at once triggered a memory for him. The memory of his uncle Tom.
Uncle Tom was someone who he saw at family gatherings like holidays and graduations, but he seemed not to exist for the remainder of the year. Kay knew very little about the man. He was a manager at a fast-food restaurant called Culver's and that he had died last year. Apparently, after getting off work every night he'd go home and drink by himself. One day, he didn't come in for work. Eventually, another manager from work went to his apartment and found him, dead.
Kay remembered attending the funeral. As his uncle's coworkers consoled his family and vice versa, Kay stared deeply at the picture of his uncle's face.
"He died from alcohol poisoning"
"It's a shame he didn't have someone in his life. If my husband were drinking like that, I would've put a stop to it. "
Kay listened to the funeral chatter. He disliked most of what he heard. He disliked most of the people who were talking. He decided that he disliked funerals, an event where everyone talks about someone who is unable to defend themself. A couple months before, at Kay's graduation party his uncle had offered to take him to a bar when he turned 21. At the time, Kay had shrugged off the offer. The young man generally avoided going to any place that wasn't home, work, or school. As far as Kay was concerned, his uncle's invitation was just another what-if in his life. Although, looking back it's easy to regret what-ifs.
"Fine, I'll have a drink with you." Kay replied as though the god was asking the world of him.
"Cheers!" said the blissfully drunk god.
"Cheers," said the blissfully ignorant young man.
The two men clinked their classes together, as Kay offered a silent prayer to his uncle. The two hadn't been particularly close, but he was family; as much as Kay disliked strangers, it couldn't be denied that no matter how strange they are, family to still family. So, Kay downed his first and last glass of alcohol, and at least partially fulfilled one of the many what-if from his extinguished life.