Death's Life

by B Latif

  ***

  Sometimes, I feel I’m the slave to villains because they keep killing and I take lives.

  But as in a game of chess, the time of vengeance comes when I become their master and take their lives instead.

  There is a universal disease, tension, which I have a slight touch of. What would I do when the time came to take Rose’s life? I was hovering over the world, taking lives when it occurred to me.

  How would I do it? How would I take my daughter’s life? How could I see my girl dead? How could I dig her grave? How could I live without her? What would I feel?

  I wished I had thought about it before I took her from her mother… before I became attached to her… before she became my daughter…

  But the unnatural thing was already done.

  I couldn’t give her to humans, or leave my daughter among them… not because she was my responsibility, but because it was the first time I was being a human. Truly and deeply, I was being a better human than humans are.

  “Rose? Rose! I’m home!”

  I had just come back from work to find the castle empty. Rose was nowhere to be seen. She never asked me what my work was because whenever I came back, I brought her fruit and vegetables in a basket, and so she must have thought that my work was to collect fruit for her.

  “Come and find me!”

  I heard a very distant voice singing. Looking around, I placed my basket on the ground and wore my hood.

  “I’m coming!” I called to her and started searching.

  She wasn’t in the castle, so I started looking in the garden. Then I thought that maybe she was hiding behind the huge trunk. Yes, she must be heading there. I went out of the castle and into the graveyard.

  As I passed through the graveyard in the darkness and mist, I heard her giggling.

  What? Rose was hiding behind a gravestone?

  “Rose? Are you hiding here?” I asked, alarmed.

  No response. The giggling stopped. She wouldn’t reply and I couldn’t look behind every gravestone as they were endless.

  The fear was what if she read the writing on the gravestones? The names… the dates…. She would ask thousands of questions.

  I couldn’t lie to her, I would tell her about humans, which I didn’t want to do.

  “ROSE!”

  Nothing. I looked around, and then finally, an idea came to mind. I’m not used to thinking about solutions to problems, but when the idea came into my mind, it seemed natural.

  “Rose, I brought a rose for you today.

  Nothing.

  I started walking towards the castle.

  “Okay, I understand you don’t want to see it… so… I’ll just throw it away…”

  “I’m here!”

  I looked. She was sneaking towards me from behind a gravestone that was some distance away.

  I staggered to her between the creepy graves, my sins, and my virtues.

  Strange?

  Those graves were my sins and my virtues because at some point, I feel virtue when I take the life of a person who has made someone’s life hell. And I feel a sin when I take life of someone who had made someone’s life like paradise.

  Just like a human.

  So, this was my heaven.

  OBSERVATION No. 12

  Heaven of Death: graveyard.

  Rose laughed as I approached her.

  “Hush up!” I put my index finger to my lips. She seemed unsettled by my act, so I picked her up and carried her quietly, “I told you not to come here.”

  “But they’re just stones…” she said, looking at the ancient-looking rocks.

  “Yes, but you’re not to come here again.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I say so,” I was extremely serious.

  “But I want to know. You said that I can go to the forest, so why not here? I mean, Mama…”

  I halted, put Rose on her feet on the rough path and glowered at her.

  “I said you’re not to go near those stones! If you do, then you’ll stay here always, with these stones. Without Mama!” I snapped indignantly.

  She was frightened because I had never behaved so angrily toward her. Now it looked as if I was the ghost of the graveyard, haunting the little girl.

  I stomped towards the castle again without looking back and had a sensation as Rose held the hem of my black cloak and began to walk behind me.

  Poor girl, I had sacred her.

  Now I understood that when human mothers ask their children to stay away from something it’s not because the child might be frightened by it. It’s because the mother is already afraid of it.

  We reached the castle, and I simply began to wash the fruit in the wooden tub I had built. Rose sat down, looking at the grass. I knew that a thousand questions had invaded her mind, but she wasn’t daring to ask even one. I just wanted her to forget about it.

  But I also knew that now, every time she went to the forest and passed the graveyard, she would wonder why I didn’t let her go near the stones. And the suspense would inevitably draw her toward the graves, and she would read the names on them and wonder what they meant.

  And what they meant was disaster. I mean, humans are a disaster for nature.

  “You didn’t ask what I’m feeling, Rose,” I tried to divert her attention, bringing the basket of fruit to her.

  She didn’t reply. Sitting beside her, I continued, “Well, you know I’m angry.”

  I handed her a banana, but she didn’t take it. Mimicking her voice, I said, “And now, tell me, what is angry, Mama?”

  I remained quiet, as she continued to stare at the grass.

  “Anger means regret,” I sighed. Again, I copied her voice, “Now, what is regret, Mama?”

  I knew she was listening carefully, but pretending she wasn’t.

  “Regret means to wish you hadn’t done something, and that you could change it.”

  Then it came out suddenly, “Oh, Lord! I wish I hadn’t done it!”

  Getting up, I headed towards the bridge, wore my hood and left to take the lives of humans again. At the edge of the bridge, I looked back slowly.

  Rose was writing something in her book, I knew what it was.

  I smiled and left.

  When I came back, I saw Rose was already sleeping with the rose in her hand that I had left in the basket.

  It was a beautiful crimson rose, the petals perfectly curved and an amazingly ravishing scent. I took it from her hand, opened her book, placed it inside, and put it back by her side.

  But there was something even more beautiful than the rose. I embraced her in my arms, she was my own charming Rose.

  ***

  My life was passing peacefully with Rose discovering things and me watching her grow, just like a flower, which is a bud and suddenly begins to blossom.

  And what a beautiful flower she was becoming. I think if there were more people like her in the world, then maybe I would have liked humans. I like a pure soul, without sins. And Rose was a pure soul.

  I made her what I wanted every human to be like.

  She cared for me when she became tired from exploring the forest, as if I were also tired from my work. She gave me water when I came back, washed fruit for me, and ate after I had eaten something. Even if it was tasteless, I still ate for her satisfaction.

  Every time I nibbled anything, I chewed harder expecting to taste something, but nothing was bitter, sweet, or sour for me. I couldn’t feel the wind that made her long hair become a lustrous banner, or shiver in the cold when she curled herself into me, nor did I sweat in the scorching sun.

  Nothing.

  And she would help me with my work by collecting the autumn leaves and sweeping the castle floor. Not only did she help me, but tended every living creature there, even if it was a snake or a wolf.

  I asked her to stay away from the animals and watch them from a distance, which she did, only going near them if they were injured, and sometimes, she carried them home to me.

 
; “Mama, look at this poor deer, her leg.”

  By then, she was ten years old, and she placed the deer in front of me on the grass so I could inspect its broken leg.

  It was strange, my work was to take lives and there I was, healing the animals, saving them from dying.

  But of course, it wasn’t a human.

  Rose didn’t know what dying was. I didn’t tell her or let her see tigers hunting or dying reindeer because then she would know death.

  I just wanted her to know I was her mother, not Death.

  She turned twelve, and one day when I returned home, I saw her standing, waiting for me. As I approached near, I saw impatience on her face.

  “Rose, today I brought…”

  “My gown is torn!” she said, talking over me. I stopped, looking at her.

  The navy-blue gown she was wearing was torn, but where? I couldn’t see anything.

  “You are joking, right?”

  Can you sense my fright at that? It was because I didn’t want to weave a new one for her! Lord… it took time, and it was an extremely boring thing for Death to do.

  “No, Mama, really, it’s torn!” She seemed very happy about it.

  I placed the basket on the ground and stared at her in alarm.

  “Where?”

  “At the back!” She said excitedly.

  I quickly pushed away her black hair and saw it. Yes, it was torn and her white skin was visible,

  “See?”

  “Okay, I’ll sew it up from here…”

  “No! I mean… it’s so dirty and old and… just smell it, oh dear, it smells like dung, see?” She sniffed it.

  I eyed her dubiously. I didn’t bother to sniff because no matter how pungent it might be, I still couldn’t smell it.

  “Don’t worry, Rose. We’ll wash it.”

  Rose was taken aback.

  “Wash it?” She gulped, “I bet it won’t go away by washing. And anyway, Mama, what will I wear when you’re washing it? Do you want me to sit here, naked?”

  “Why not, who will see you?”

  “You will!”

  “But that’s okay, I’m your mother.”

  “No, that is not okay. Totally not okay.”

  “Rose,” I stopped her at once, “what is it that you really want?”

  “I was hoping, you know… that maybe you would… you know… make a new gown for me?”

  “Oh no, Rose!” I shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand, like a salute. “Oh no… did you tear it on purpose?”

  Rose hesitated, “Err… kind of…”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted a new gown! I don’t want blue anymore. I want a beautiful gown like yours!”

  “White?”

  “No… I mean… what was that word you used last week? Yes—clamorous—”

  “Glamorous.”

  “Whatever! I don’t want to wear a plain gown. I want shiny, silk, glittering like stars, and I want my hair like yours too. And a silver crown like yours and to look beautiful like you!”

  For a moment, I looked mournfully at her. Then I smiled. I smiled because this was the only human who wanted to be a miniature version of her parent. Only.

  Most humans hate to be like their parents.

  I appeared beautiful to Rose because she was free of sins. I knew she had a direct ticket to paradise as she was as sinless as a wee baby.

  She was looking at me with inquisitive eyes. As I exhaled, the words flowed with it, “Okay, you could have just asked instead of tearing your gown.”

  I couldn’t produce a dress like mine out of thin air because I didn’t have that kind of magic. And for the first time, I realized I needed to buy it from humans.

  How?

  It took me three days to figure out what I was supposed to do. I didn’t have a paper with a stamp on it regarded as money. Until then, Rose wore her torn attire.

  When she asked me about it, I simply teased her, “Now, this is your punishment, Rose.”

  For the first time, as I traveled the world taking lives, I also visited dress shops. Oh, Lord… and what kinds of dresses there were! I could barely call them clothes when most of them left the females half naked.

  OBSERVATION No. 13

  Humans have forgotten the meaning of clothes.

  When Rose asked me the meaning of clothes for the first time, I told her:

  Clothes: hide yourself.

  And she had asked me why? I had told her exactly what I’m going to tell you: precious things are always hidden.

  I found Rose a school in America where the students were going to perform a play by Shakespeare.

  It was10 March 1933. There would be an earthquake in California. The characters would die when the building fell on them. I knew the dress would be buried there.

  So, I played the part of the hero and rescued the dress.

  It all happened before the play could even start. I stared at the girl who owned the dress. She was about the same age as Rose.

  “Am I going to die?”

  I rolled my tongue, apparently lost in thought, “Yes, I suppose you are.”

  “Okay,” she seemed terrified, but didn’t fight me.

  I looked at the dress lying at her side. Should I or shouldn’t I?

  It was the second time I had to make a decision and only the Lord knows how difficult it was.

  To beg from a human? No way.

  But Rose would be happy then.

  It would damage my self-respect.

  Rose would be happy.

  My ego…

  Rose would be happy.

  A war was happening in my mind. The stupid part was convincing my egoistic part.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  The girl asked me in astonishment. I cleared my throat.

  “Can I have your dress, please?”

  I was surprised by the request I made. I could have ordered her. I could have stolen the thing from the dead girl.

  But humans steal. So, I asked directly.

  “Yeah, sure,” she said, looking at me on the floor in the sunshine I had created. There was no building around. Just me, the girl and the dress in the sunshine, on the marble floor.

  “Why do you want it?” she asked curiously.

  Oh, humans, they don’t let go of curiosity even if they are dying. Wait… sometimes they die because of curiosity.

  I smiled as I thought about Rose, “I want it for my daughter.”

  The girl, propping herself up on her elbows, was bewildered by my answer.

  “I didn’t know Death could have a daughter.” She said, almost to herself. “It means there are more of you. How many Deaths are there exactly?”

  I stared back at the girl who had inquisitive eyes. How did I look to her? Not as beautiful as I appeared to Rose.

  I couldn’t say it was a human daughter. I had no interest in narrating my story.

  It was my ugly little secret and no human would be involved, dead or alive.

  I frightened her by my gaze, as I took her life, saying darkly, “Just one.”

  It was pretty rude of me not even to thank her, but I returned home.

  It was a black, glittering gown that looked perfect on Rose. She was very happy that day and I told her not to tear that one.

  I found the leftovers of perished places that humans call junk, I picked up the valuable things: pencils and paper and gave them to Rose.

  It was delightful when she made her first drawing of a tree. It wasn’t exactly the tree she was looking at and copying, but it brought a smile to my face.

  I gradually learned that she wasn’t only interested in writing her own dictionary, but she had an interest in art as well.

  I helped her with it. we would sit by the trees in afternoons and I would tell her the areas to shade. First the trees, then the birds. That is how she saw things.

  First Rose, then the roses. That is how I saw things.

  Whenever she woke up and I had already left to carry out my dut
ies, she always found a red rose by her side, placed on her book. It meant a lot to her as it gave her the message that I had been there.

  And it meant a lot to me too.

  She was nothing like other humans at all. She seemed to be human but a version from another planet where there was no concept of sin and only me, nature, and the Lord existed with her.

  In winter, when it became too cold for the first time, I asked her to collect wood with me, but not to break any branches from the trees, just to look on the ground for some. I didn’t want her to harm any living thing, even if it was a tree. She asked me why, but I didn’t tell her.

  When we had collected enough, we took it to the castle where I stacked it in a pyramid and asked her to sit at some distance.

  Then I set fire to it.

  I sat down on the opposite side with the fire between us. and I could see her fascination.

  “Whoa! What is this, Mama?” she asked as fire flashed in her eyes. It was the first time she had seen fire, and she was so mesmerized by it that she forgot her ‘customary move.’

  “Fire.”

  “What does it mean?” She asked, reaching out for it.

  “No— don’t touch it! It’ll burn you!” She leaned back at my warning, “Remember all those animals I told you to stay away from? The dangerous ones? This is also dangerous, like them.”

  “It’s an animal? But I can’t see its mouth or claws… or eyes… or…”

  “It’s not an animal, Rose!” I laughed. “You see, this thing is the opposite to water. Water flows, but this dances. Water does nothing to your skin”

  “It does! Wrinkles appear on my fingertips if I stay in the river for too long!”

  “But that’s temporary. After you have been out for a little while, like now, your fingertips are normal. But if you try to touch the fire, it will permanently harm you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because… umm… it just doesn’t like to be touched.”

  “Okay. But it is beautiful, isn’t it?” She laughed slightly, staring into the fire.

  “That is why it should stay alone.” I said to myself in a whisper.

  “Did you say something?” she looked at me and I shook my head.

  OBSERVATION No. 14

  Beauty might seem the most important thing at the time, but it should be left alone because it can ruin everything in the fulness of time. Like a sweet poison.