by Cheree Alsop
He turned and walked from the mall, his chest filled with regret, but not regret for the uncompleted list, regret that Julia’s name had been on it in the first place. A mother of a little girl didn’t deserve to die.
***
Death walked through the closed door of the hospital and into Gregan Parker’s room. Nyra looked up as soon as he entered. “You’re ruining me,” he said in a tone that was more resigned than accusatory.
“I know you’ve given Gregan more time. It’s just not enough,” Nyra said. Her fingers twisted together, giving away her anxiety.
“It’ll never be enough,” Death said quietly.
“What was that?” She took a step closer.
He shook his head, a faint motion of shadow amid the darkness. “I let a woman live today.”
Nyra’s hand flew to her mouth, but she kept silent, sensing he had more to tell her.
“She had a daughter. The girl saw me; she pleaded for her mother’s life.” He bowed his head. “I just couldn’t do it.”
The angel made no sound when she crossed to him, but a warning called in the back of his mind. He looked up just as she reached for his face. He flashed to the other side of the room faster than either of them knew he could. “Don’t ever touch me!” he barked in a voice that made her jump.
Just as no one could withstand Death’s smile, his voice in anger was enough to make grown men cry. Nyra cowered by Gregan’s bed, fear bright in her green eyes.
Death rubbed the back of his neck. He took a step toward her. “Nyra, I-” When she shrank away, it stole what was left of his self-control. He let out a growl of fury that shorted out every monitor in the room. They reset just as the nurses rushed in, but Death was long gone.
Chapter Twelve
ANGEL
Nyra stared at the closed door. Fear still hammered in her ears, a remnant of Death’s angry outburst. The nurses had been baffled by the monitors; they brought in two replacements even though those that had shorted out worked just fine after Death’s departure.
Betsy came in a short while later. A nurse followed her into the room. “Dr. Stevenson said he is doing better than expected,” the nurse said with a warm smile.
Tears glittered brightly in Betsy’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Nyra’s heart went out to the woman. When she and Gregan had been together, Nyra couldn’t stand being around them because the woman made Gregan so much happier than she ever could. He didn’t even know Nyra existed. Yet seeing how Betsy’s heart ached and how desperately she wanted Gregan to get better, Nyra couldn’t help feeling a kinship toward the woman. The nurse’s words made them both feel relieved.
Nyra wandered down the hall to let Betsy have some time with Gregan. She figured Death wouldn’t be returning soon after his outburst.
His actions puzzled her. Death was nothing like she had imagined. He was scary for sure, and intense. He was volatile and unpredictable. Yet he was far different from the heartless cold shadow she had expected. There was something about his eyes, so deep and heartbreaking as though the lives he took ate at him inside. He said he loved what he did, but there was cynicism in his voice as though even he didn’t believe his words.
The look on his face when she had reached out to touch him was burned into her mind. He had been angry, furious, but it wasn’t directed at her. Even his words were defensive, protecting her instead of himself. He had been afraid for her when she was trying to comfort him. In the depths of his heartache and loss, the confusion of whatever he was going through, he had still been watching out for her.
Nyra stared out the hospital window to the rushing street beyond. People drove past in cars and trucks, pedaled bicycles, and walked by the hospital as though the big white building didn’t exist. Was it easier for them to not think about the pain and suffering of the individuals within the walls because there was nothing they could do about it?
A mother stood at a stoplight waiting for it to change. She held the hand of her young son as she talked to another woman pushing a stroller. Nyra’s heart slowed when the little boy worked his hand free and took a step toward the busy intersection. The mother gestured with her hand, unaware of her son’s danger.
Nyra walked through the glass and hurried to the mother’s side. The women continued to talk, their attention on their conversation as the boy stepped down from the curb. Nyra didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t talk to the woman and there were no other angels present. A car was hurling toward the corner, intent on a right turn.
Warn her.
The prompting felt like a gentle pressure, freeing Nyra from her insubstantial state.
“Look at your son,” Nyra whispered in the woman’s ear.
The mother’s eyes widened and she spun around, looking frantically for her boy. “Matthew!” she cried. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back just as the car rushed around the corner.
“Oh my goodness,” the mother said, checking her son over quickly. “I can’t believe I let you go.” She gathered him up in a hug. The little boy giggled, unaware of the danger he had been in.
The other mother hugged them both. “That was so scary,” she exclaimed.
“Never again,” the mother vowed. She gathered her son up in her arms and held him close as though she would never let him go again. “That was too close.”
Nyra made her way slowly back to the hospital. It felt so good to feel a prompting again, to feel like she could make a difference. Even though the prompting hadn’t been toward Gregan, she had helped someone. Even Betsy’s continued presence in Gregan’s room couldn’t make her smile fade. Nyra stood near the window and watched the empty intersection, grateful no one had been hurt.
Chapter Thirteen
DEATH
He finished the rest of the list. When it was completed, he allowed Julia’s name to guide him to her. He found her in the ICU at the hospital on the other side of the city. Her daughter slept in a chair near her mother’s bed, her black hair disheveled and a teddy bear tucked under one arm. It still had a tag in its ear. Someone in the hospital must have taken pity on the little girl and brought her the gift.
Death studied Julia’s monitors, wishing he knew how to read them.
A little voice spoke beside him. “They told me she wasn’t going to make it,” the little girl said. “But I told them the man in black said he wouldn’t take her. He promised.”
Death nodded and knelt down on the floor at her eye level, careful to keep just out of reach. “Did they believe you?” he asked gently.
She shook her head, her eyes wide. A smile crossed her face. “But she made it through the surgery even though they said she wouldn’t. I heard the doctors talking. They said it was a miracle.” She winked at him. “They said it would be another miracle if she made it through the night. We’ll show them, won’t we?”
Death smiled; he couldn’t help himself. Cold, hard, unfeeling Death was moved by the belief of a five year old. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Kenzie Mills.”
“I’m glad you believed me.”
She smiled and her whole face glowed.
He rose. “I’ve got to go now.” She nodded and scooted her chair closer to her mother’s side. Her voice stopped him at the door. “You didn’t tell me your name.”
He hesitated before looking back at her. “What?”
“Your name,” she pressed. “You asked for mine, now you have to tell me yours.”
He debated about what to say. Death had many names and none of them were pleasant. He gave up trying to pick one and settled for the most obvious. “My name is Death.” He watched carefully for her reaction.
“Do you have a last name?” she asked as casually has if he had said his name was Bob.
He shook his head. “I think Death is enough.”
She shrugged. “I guess so. Goodbye, Death.”
“Goodbye, Kenzie Mills.”
She waved and he walked through the door.
***
&n
bsp; “It’s been quiet here.”
“Sorry.” Death felt guilty for his outburst. Returning to the hospital in his human form had taken more courage than he wanted to admit. He sat on the chair with his head bowed. He felt Nyra’s presence, her silence, the compassion that shone in her eyes, the love she felt for Gregan. The thought clenched his heart, causing it to beat hard enough to hurt. He shifted slightly in the seat to ease the discomfort.
“What do you do when you’re not here?”
Nyra’s voice made him lift his head as much as her question. He could listen to her voice forever. His veins sang with it, and when he was out doing Death’s work, he heard her voice in his head, disapproving of his job. He cracked a small smile. “I’m an exterminator.”
“For mice and stuff?” At his evasive shrug, she smiled. “That sounds nice.”
“It’s gotten a lot harder,” he said honestly. He met her beautiful green gaze. “Sometimes it’s hard to kill things.”
She thought about his answer. “I guess someone’s got to do it, or the world would be overrun.”
A laugh caught in his throat and turned into a cough. He looked up at her, wondering how she would feel if she really knew what she said. He settled back in the chair and laced his fingers in front of him, vowing to pay better attention to them in case his time living faded faster than he planned because of the names on his arm.
“Nyra, do you like being an angel?”
She laughed, a musical sound like raindrops on a pond. It warmed the air. “Yes,” she said. “I definitely I like it.”
“I guess who wouldn’t enjoy being an angel?” Death mused.
She gave him a curious look. “Do you enjoy being an exterminator?”
He considered the question seriously. “I used to,” he said, studying his hands. “But not anymore.”
“Why not do something else?” she asked.
He fought back a wry smile. His gaze met hers with unsettling intensity. “I would if I could, but I’m sort of stuck with it.”
“At least you have other things you can do when you’re not exterminating.”
Was that a wistful hint to her voice? Death’s gaze sharpened, but Nyra bowed her head to look at Gregan. Her golden hair hid her expression from view. “I come here,” he said.
She looked up at Death. “You’re a good brother. I’m sure it would mean a lot to Gregan to know you’re by his side.”
“I’m sure,” Death mumbled. At her look, he searched for an explanation, settling on, “We haven’t been exactly close.”
“It seems like that stuff doesn’t matter in situations like these. All that matters is that you’re here now.”
“You are, too,” Death said. “You’re fighting for his life against Death. What’s that like?”
“He’s different than I thought he’d be,” she admitted.
“Scarier?” he asked, one side of him hoping it was true. The other side wished with all of his heart that she would say she didn’t fear him like everyone else.
She avoided appeasing either hope. “Just, well, different.” She crossed to the window.
Death felt his fingers begin to slip. He wanted to stay. It was such a different experience having a normal conversation instead of one laced with fear and pleading. He wished he could talk to Nyra forever. His time of living was fading away. He rose and crossed to the door, turning the handle before his fingers failed him. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
Nyra turned in surprise. “Already?”
Death nodded. “The life of an exterminator is demanding.”
She smiled a warm smile that ran through his body to the heart that pounded every time their eyes met. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, holding onto that smile. It was for him, just him. It was the most precious gift anyone had ever given to him, and she gave it freely. He vowed to remember her smile for the length of his existence. He opened his eyes again and met her puzzled look. “Goodnight, Nyra.”
He closed the door behind him feeling lighter. He walked down the hallway and actually waved to the two nurses behind the main desk. He stared at his fading hand, a strange thing to do in the middle of the hospital with nurses watching. As casually as he could manage, he tucked his hand into his pocket and hurried down the hall.
Chapter Fourteen
ANGEL
Nyra stared after the man. He was strange, but he made her smile whenever he walked into the room. His visits were short, but it was obvious how much he cared about his brother. She had never known anyone who was an exterminator before. His job must be demanding to keep him out so often.
When Betsy arrived, Nyra walked down the street. There was nothing she could do in the room and Death never seemed to visit during the early hours of the morning. She looked up at the dark windows that stretched far above her, apartments and businesses with only a few lights on inside.
She wandered without a purpose until something told her to go inside an apartment complex.
She hesitated on the stoop, unsure what she was doing. The feeling felt like the same pressure she had experienced at the intersection. Uncertainty filled her as she stepped through the closed door into the entryway.
The apartment complex was old but maintained. Worn carpet ran up the stairs, but it looked as though it had been vacuumed within the last day or so. She made her way slowly up the stairs, wondering what she would find. The first landing was quiet as the inhabitants of the six apartments caught their last few hours of sleep before dawn.
She continued up to the second floor and heard the unmistakable cry of a newborn baby. The apartment next door to the baby had its television on and she could hear the grumbling of its occupants about the baby that kept them up. Nyra followed the pressure through the door to the apartment.
The baby’s cry intensified. In the first bedroom she found a little boy and a little girl sharing a mattress on the floor. The blanket was tattered but clean, and the serenity of sleep showed on their innocent faces. Smiles grew on their faces as Nyra’s presence brightened their dreams.
Nyra continued past the empty second bedroom with a bed whose blankets were still made and unslept in. A bassinet sat near the head of the bed that was also unoccupied. Nyra followed the hallway to the shared space that made up the kitchen and living area.
A young woman stood near the window with the crying baby in her arms. She rocked from side to side and sang to it, but the baby continued to cry. When Nyra drew closer, she saw tears on the mother’s cheeks.
“Sleep, little Tanner,” the mother said in a gentle voice. “You need your sleep.” Her voice broke, but she continued to smile down at the crying newborn. “It’s alright, my son. Close your eyes.”
Nyra’s heart went out to the mother. She stood near her, uncertain what she was to do. The baby sounded so tired as it cried as if they had stood there for hours. The young woman swayed gently from side to side in the natural rhythm all mothers shared.
“I don’t understand,” the woman said in her same soft voice. “Mia and Daniel never cried for so long.”
An image showed in Nyra’s mind. She smiled and set a hand on the woman’s arm.
The young mother paused in her swaying. She looked down at her infant as though wondering if such a simple thing could help. She walked over to the couch and set her son in the middle, then unwrapped his blankets. Instead of just wrapping them around him, she followed the instructions Nyra whispered in her ear.
She pulled the corner of the blanket up so that it tucked against the baby’s feet, then nestled the blanket under the baby’s shoulder. She took the left corner and tucked it under the baby’s right side, and did the same to the right corner, wrapping it around the baby’s back. The result was a swaddled baby, his arms and legs gently nestled within the folds of the blanket.
She picked him up and began rocking again. Within a few minutes, the infant was sound asleep.
The mother stared down at her baby in awe. Gratitude shone on her face as she drie
d her tears. She held Tanner close and kissed him on his rosy cheek. “I love you,” she whispered softly.
Nyra walked back outside feeling grateful that she was able to help someone else. It had been so long since she felt such promptings, and never before had she felt them for someone other than Gregan while she was his angel. It wasn’t much, but the fact that she had been able to help two young mothers made her smile all the way back to the hospital.
Chapter Fifteen
DEATH
Death couldn’t help himself. As soon as he opened his eyes, he made his way to the hospital instead of following the new list on his arm. Gregan and Julia’s names burned above the others, but he ignored them. He couldn’t stay away from her. Being around Nyra was like drinking a sweet nectar that filled him with light and hope, things that were very painfully lacking in his life.
Death didn’t have time for such things, and he tried to remind himself of that very fact, but his feet ignored him, insubstantial though they were. He passed through the hospital door and made his way to Gregan’s room.
“Shouldn’t you be destroying lives or whatever it is you do?”
Death fought back a smile that would have looked very out of place amid his shadows and the chill of his cold gray eyes. “Shouldn’t you be singing with a choir somewhere?”
She gasped, then glared at him. “You’re in a good mood.”
He shook his head. “Death is never in a good mood.”
“Do you talk about yourself in third person often?” she pressed, trying to distract him from Gregan.
“I don’t actually talk to people often. You’re the-” he realized what she was doing and paused. A dark chuckle broke from him that sent chills down her arms. “Egging me on to keep my attention from Gregan isn’t going to help him any.”