The Last Question
by
Radiance Angelina Petro

Once I met a ghost full of questions. We walked for hours, losing track of time. I answered their questions as best I could, but they didn’t seem interested in my answers, which were mostly guesses anyway. They just kept asking question after question. I tried asking them one every now and then, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Here are the questions they asked. I wrote them down for you. I remember all of them except one. The last one.

Have you ever flipped a knife to see if it would land
with the blade stuck in the grass?
Have you ever found an old well and looked down
only to find it filled with dirt?
Do you believe you’ve done anything
meritorious? That’s a word I learned when I got here.
What do you think the first question in the world was?
Someone here says they know but they won’t tell me.
Everything’s instantaneous isn’t it?
Have you ever pulled a sword from a scabbard
and yelled: “Charge!”?
I carried a secret goodness to the other side.
I still have it in my pocket. Can you guess what it is?
I met a guy here named Buddha. He asked me a question.
Want to know what it was?
If you ever came across a rope dangling all the way from heaven
what would you do? I found one once and gave it a tug
and ended up pulling the whole rope down.
I didn’t know what to do after that so I looked around for a second
and then kept walking, pretending nothing happened, although
I had the feeling I should be running, and I’m pretty sure
I heard a crow telling me to.
Are my questions bugging you?
There’s lots of gods here dressed in feathers. Why do you think that is?
How old do you think I am?
Want to know how I died?
Have you ever seen someone walk into the woods and suddenly
stoop down on all fours, grow hooves and paws or something,
and just keep going? I see that all the time now.
Are you sure my questions aren’t bothering you?
Anyway, I only have one more and then I have to go.
Want to guess what my last question is? It’s the question we all have to answer
before we get here.

And that’s the question I don’t remember. I think it was something about who do I believe myself to be, but I’m not sure. Do you have any idea what their last question could have been? Why do you think it needs to get answered before I die? Do you think that means I’m going to die soon? What if I die soon? What if I die soon and haven’t answered the question? Will you hold my hand and wait with me while I’m trying to remember the last question?