Death of the Rainbow Man

By G. W. Thomas

"Am I dead?" asked the man, who in life had been a wizard.

"Yes, you are," replied Tatilus, goddess of the dead, mixing the lots in a bag.

"Is this Heaven then?"

"No, it is not. But neither is it Hell."

"Why have I come here?" pleaded the Rainbow Man.

"To pick your next life," answered the Garganod, god of physical decay.

"But why must I pick another when the last was so utterly pointless?" wondered the Rainbow Man. "I was a student of necromancy. After long years of study I traveled the world and cast magic spells. In the end not one of those spells stopped me from ending up here. What a waste!"

"Then pick a better life," suggested the Bearer of the Lots.

The wizard looked at the lots before him. The closest was that of a man of great power; and, as a tyrant, he would end his long life in luxury--but still--pointlessly. He passed the lot over for another.

"A wise choice," Tatilus congratulated him.

The next lot was that of a famous explorer. He would see many new places and countries. But the last twenty years of his life would be spent yearning for farther horizons--again--an existence without purpose. The Rainbow Man shook his head.

"Again, a wise choice," the goddess said.

The next life was that of a peasant woman--born to work and the yoke--a dull span of poverty and pain. The futility was almost too much to bear. The wizard looked elsewhere.

He gazed upon the others, each in turn: statesman, poet, priest of a new god that did not exist, soldier, prostitute, and cripple. All horrid to one degree or another. Each as pointless and futile as the last.

"I begin to see," the Rainbow Man admitted. "the cruel joke that is existence. None of these lives holds the answer to the ultimate question: why?"

"This is so," agreed Tatilus. "But you must pick some life. Which life do you see as most desirable? Which least horrifying? Would you be a despot and rule with an iron hand? General, and lead mighty troops? Poet, and write great poetry and win greater ladies? Choose."

The wizard looked at the gigantic goddess before him, the vast expanses of the cavern, the guardian spirits that directed the souls of men. Presently, a look, not quite a smile, but resolve, crossed his features.

"There is only one thing better than being ruled--" the sorcerer began.

"True."

"I know which I will pick."

Tatilus bowed. "Let it be so."

The mand his eyes slowly.

"Am I dead?" asked the man, who in life had been a scribe, a writer of fantastical stories.

"Yes, you are," replied the Rainbow Man, mixing the lots in a bag...

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