A Brief Guest

Paul Harvey stopped over today on his way from Arizona back to Chicago. He stopped to ask me what I thought about the recent trends in internet architecture and lawn care. I knew he had something else on his mind.
I said, “Paul what’s up? You don’t usually hem and haw around like this. You got something on your mind?”
He said, “yes…there is something, something on my mind. You know the story of the child who comes to ask his grandfather what it was like to live in olden times...”
“Paul, Paul, let’s not go there, you have something on your mind, what is it?” I said, looking through him. It occurred to me that was quite easy to do. Against the back windows he was nothing more than a shimmer.
“Well Craig, can I call you Craig?”
“Sure Paul, that’s fine.” I would say that he took a deep breath, but that wouldn’t be right, the shimmer seemed to draw a breath before
He said, “Craig, I’ve one year left on a ten year contract, but under the circumstances I’m going to find it hard to finish, that’s a 10 mil loss, nobody wants to take that kind of loss.”
I sighed, “I understand your concern Paul, but really under the circumstances does it really matter? Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”
“Move on? I’m getting screwed out of 10 mil.” The shimmer brightened a bit and then he said, “I’m not moving an inch until I get the total 100 mil. I haven’t been in the business for 75 years to roll over and play dead just because I died.”
I was silent, hoping that the irony of that statement would sink into the shimmer. After a too long pause, I jumped in, “Paul, I’m sure that you’re not the first shimmer to want stick around and finish something, but you’ve got to move on man. You’ve bit it, kicked it, and it’s time for your all that eternal stuff.”
“You gotta sell yourself, Craig. If you don’t, nobody else will. If I stop now how long will it be before “This is Paul Harvey”, is totally forgotten?”
I looked through him out the window where a Robin was pulling a worm from the cold ground,
“Paul, is that it, you’re afraid you’re going to be forgotten? What’s wrong with that, do you know your first grade teacher’s teacher name? “
“Who was my first grade teacher’s teacher?”
“Yes, who taught your first grade teacher?” I could see his shimmer was getting a bit annoyed.
He said, “I just spent 75 years talking to millions of people about all kinds of feel good human interest stories, it got me parodied on Saturday Night Live, that should be worth something.”
I felt a frown on my face, “It was worth millions, I understand - that’s more than I’ll ever see, I would say you had a pretty good run.”
“Listeners are fickle, how long do you think it will be before someone will be telling grandpa stories and selling Jell-o, to people who have no business preparing food with processed cow and pig skin and bones.”
“Don’t forget the inedible connective tissue,” I said.
“Yes that too, but the point is in the end I am going to be replaced, some Rush knockoff and that will be that.”
“Paul,” I said, “You had over 75 years of grea…”
“What does it mean; it seems like just an instant. It could have been yesterday.”
“Get a hold of yourself, you’ve got places to go.”
The shimmer smiled and faded.
I stared a minute and then said, “Say hello to Elvis for me.”
As the shimmer winked out, I heard a disembodied voice say, “and now for the end of the story.”