by Idella Breen
I shook my head. “What exactly are you saying?”
“That good and evil are defined by human morals, but in the grand scheme of things, the bigger picture, good and evil don’t exist. All that exists are events.”
“Events?”
June nodded. “Angels represent morals, humans morals. They do their master's bidding and their master sees the benefit of keeping humans alive.”
“And what benefit is that, exactly?”
“Their master gains power from their prayers. The more people that pray to it, that stronger it is, and the stronger the master is, the better it can defend against the demons that seek to enter its realm.”
I shook my head. “You lost me.”
She frowned. “Events, Eliza. Depending on which side you choose, events are forced down the path of one of two possibilities.”
“And they are?”
“Revenge or morals.”
“Not good or evil?”
June sighed. “You either choose the demons side, and the scale is tipped towards revenge, which leads to destruction and chaos; or you choose the angel's side, and humans make advancements in medicine or soldiers unexpectedly come home from battle.”
“That still sounds like either a good or bad outcome to me.”
She shook her head. “If some soldiers come home from battle that means others were deployed to replace them. And natural disasters, like forest fires or floods, with time, replenish the earth in new ways. The ashes left behind by fire is fertile ground for new life to take root.”
I uncrossed my arms. “I see. I would call those gray areas then.”
June shrugged. “Call them what you will. We define them as events since our jobs aren’t really affected by either choice too much. Either way, people die, and souls are collected and relocated.”
I nodded. “I think I’m beginning to understand. But I don’t understand why I have to choose. Why do I exist?”
Pain entered her gaze. “Your job was created to keep the balance, after the fall of the Morning Star, and the demons organized under their new master. Before that, demons had only been an annoyance at their worst. But with their organization, they became a terrible force and a threat. Death created the Lamb of Essence System in order to call a truce from the war. Both sides agreed, but they still needed a soul…” She trailed off.
“But why my soul? I’m no one-”
“It’s my fault!” She cut in as her hands gripped into fists.
“How is it your fault?”
“Because…”
She remained silent.
“Why June? You can tell me. I won’t blame you.” I whispered, taking one of her fists into my grasp. She mumbled.
“I didn’t catch that.”
June met my gaze, pulling her hand away. Her eyes were hard, empty. “Because I died.”
I frowned. “What?”
June wouldn’t meet my gaze as she spoke. “I died, Eliza and Death tricked me. He made me sign the bone walker’s contract, taking me out of the cycle of reincarnation without letting my soul choose a side.”
“I don’t understand, June.”
She looked up, finally meeting my gaze. This time her gray gaze was a bottomless pit of self-loathing. “It doesn’t matter. Only the truth matters and the truth is that this is all my fault.”
My mouth moved without conscious thought, and the words that escaped were both mine and not mine. “Then tell me a beautiful lie.”
Her face froze in what could only have been shock. “What did you say?”
“The truth is an ugly lie. I want you to tell me a beautiful lie. Lie to me June, because the truth has killed me over and over again, but your beautiful lies have given me life just as many times.”
My heart was bursting with an emotion I hadn’t felt in a long time. I wasn’t quite sure I remembered the name for it, but it had always filled me whenever I was around this woman. It was pure and powerful, and it was as heavy as it was light. Her hands trembled as they cupped my face. She wiped the tears that had fallen without my knowledge. Then she both sobbed and laughed as she gave me the name of the emotion. “I love you Eliza Trust. I will always love you.”
I gave her a watery smile. “You always were the best liar.”
June crashed her mouth into mine. Our teeth bumped from the force behind it, the desperation. My arms wrapped around her neck, pulling her fully into me so that I couldn’t tell where she began and I ended. Her tongue ran along the seam of my lips, and I gasped when she bit me, allowing her tongue to enter and explore; to claim, what had never truly been hers.
I could taste both blood, and the salt from my tears, but I only pulled myself more flush to her. This was the taste of hope, and it was glorious in its potency. It was the taste of pain, June’s pain; most of all, it was the taste of our everlasting love. Of all the lies that were truths in disguise, and it hurt so much, as it settled in my chest filling my heart to the brim.
I felt more tears slide down my face as our tongues met and slid gently against each other. I could feel her grip on my hair relax as she moaned. Our kiss began to slow, become more languid, as the desperation settled down and the need for air became too demanding. We separated slowly, both panting.
June’s gaze was soft, as she studied my face like she was studying a great work of art. She whispered. “I’ve been waiting to do that for three millennium.”
I smirked as I gasped out. “What took you so fucking long?”
She tipped her head back and let loose a laugh. It was light and airy, soft and beautiful, but most of all it was her’s, and I loved it just for that.
I smiled as I caught my breath. “I think I’m in love with you too, June.”
She met my gaze and smiled.
“I just wanted you to know.”
She nodded. “I do. I have. And I always will.”
***
I woke feeling a bit sick. I felt like there was cotton in my mouth along with a faint throb in my head. As I climbed out of bed, to get some aspirin, flashes of the night before entered my mind. June and I had spoken for a while longer, during which, I finally opened the bottle of Spanish red wine that had been collecting dust in my kitchen. I may have gotten a bit drunk. Okay, I got a lot drunk, but no one would blame me? My life had suddenly become a drama, and I just needed a night to blow off some steam.
Around one in the morning, June had put me to bed, where I must have promptly passed out because I was drawing a blank after that. I groaned as I remembered trying to kiss her goodnight. It had been a sloppy attempt, but she had been a good sport about it and dodged like a pro.
I popped two pills into my mouth and washed them down with water as I went into my living room. Surprisingly, June was not sleeping on my couch. Actually, she wasn’t anywhere in my apartment. Going back into my bedroom I found a note on my bedside table. It simply stated that she was called into work for an emergency, and ended with a warning for me to stay out of trouble, followed by her cell phone number.
“How romantic.” I sighed. She could have at least drawn a heart. It would have been better than nothing.
I walked over to my chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of skinny black jeans, which were tastefully ripped at the knees, and a long sleeved white t-shirt with a frowny face printed on it. Grabbing underwear and socks, I hopped into the shower and set to scrubbing the stink of alcohol off. After mouth washing twice, and dressing, I was pouring my first cup of coffee, when my phone rang. Pulling it from my purse, I saw the words, ‘Philo’s’ on the caller ID.
“Shit!” I set my mug down and answered it.
“Hello, Eliza speaking?” I said in my all business tone.
“Ms. Trust? This is Jessica, Mr. Smead’s assistant.”
“Henry’s assistant?” Was Smead his last name? I couldn’t remember.
“That’s correct. I’m calling to ask if you would be okay with having the meeting to sign your contract this afternoon? I know it’s short notice, but
Mr. Smead had a sudden cancellation and wanted to try and fit you in. I’m afraid this will be his only opening for a while. His schedule is packed with the holidays coming up. I’m sure you understand?”
“Of course, but I’m afraid I haven’t spoken with my lawyer yet. I thought I would have more time.”
“Would it be possible to call him now? Mr. Smead is eager to sign you on as soon as possible.”
“Let me call him now then. Can I reach you at this number?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
“Thank you, Ms. Trust. Once again, I’m sorry for the short notice.”
“No problem. Let me make the call then I’ll get back to you.”
“Of course. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I hung up, took a deep breath, and dialed my lawyer.
“Peter Roy’s office, this is May speaking.”
“May? This is Eliza.”
“Oh, Eliza! It’s been a while. Happy holidays!”
“Back at you. Is Peter in?”
“He’s on a coffee break, but he won’t mind me putting you through.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” She chirped.
Peter and I had gone to Washington University together. I wasn’t originally as close with him as I was to Angela but he and Angela had dated for a while. Once they broke up, he had tried to chase after me on the rebound, but I was never really interested. Instead, we became good friends. He was now happily married to May; going on five years now. May was a sweetheart and sent me a card every Christmas. He couldn’t have done better.
“Eliza?”
“Peter. How are you?”
“Fine, how about yourself?”
“I’m good.”
“What can I do for you, Eliza?”
I took a deep breath. “I have a huge favor to ask of you.”
“Oh? This is rare. Usually, I’m asking you for favors.”
I laughed.
“What do you need?”
I cleared my throat. “The short story is that I need to sign a contract to show my art at a gallery. I’m trying to get into it.”
“Congratulations, Eliza! I see Angela has had her way once again.” He chuckled.
“Yeah.”
“So, you need me to go over it with you?”
“Actually, I need you to meet me at the gallery for the signing.”
“Okay, when is it?”
“This afternoon.”
He was quiet. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry Peter. It’s kind of an emergency or I wouldn’t have thrown this on you.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll have May clear my schedule for this afternoon.”
I sighed. “Thank you, Peter.”
“It’s not everyday that you ask me for a favor. It sounds like you’re doing well, though.”
I thought about what this past month and a half had been like and nearly laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“We’ll have to talk over coffee sometime. May misses her tea dates with you and Angela.”
I sighed at the memory of simpler times, and my eyes began to water. “Yeah, I miss them too, Peter. I miss them a lot.”
“We’ll just have to plan some more then.” He chuckled.
“So, where am I going this afternoon?”
I wiped my eyes. “Do you know where Philo’s is?”
“The one in Queen Anne’s?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, you really have done well for yourself.”
“I try.”
“Okay, I’ll tell May, and I’ll see you there.”
“Thanks again, Peter.”
“It’s the least I can do for all you’ve done for May and I. If it weren't for you I wouldn’t have met the girl of my dreams.”
I smiled. “I didn’t do much. You had to woo her.”
“Yeah, but you pointed me in the right direction.”
“It was no problem.”
Peter chuckled. “I’ll see you later, Eliza.”
“Bye Peter. Tell May I miss her.”
“Will do.”
I hung up and immediately called Jessica back.
“Mr. Smead’s office. This is Jessica. How may I help you?”
“Jessica, this is Eliza.”
“Ms. Trust! Good news I hope?”
“Yes. We will both be there this afternoon.”
“Great. Be here at twelve o’clock sharp.”
“Okay, thank you, Jessica.”
“See you this afternoon.”
I hung up and took a deep breath before picking up my mug. I should never do business before my first cup of coffee. Especially, after drinking a whole bottle of wine the night before. I felt the ache in my head lessen as I drank from my mug. Coffee really was life giving. What would the world do without it? Sleep forever probably, I mused.
I made my way into the living room, and over to the blinds, which were to the left of my television. I set my mug down, to pull up the drawstrings, letting in the light of the morning sun. The view wasn’t anything special. It overlooked the parking lot at the back of the building, but behind the lot was a small public park that was usually filled with children in the summer, but was now barren of their joyous screams and laughter.
Beyond that was the street, and it was filled with morning commuters, honking belligerently, trying to part traffic like Moses parted the Red Sea. I picked my Garfield mug back up, and took a sip, humming softly to myself. It had been a long while since I had a calm morning. All this demons and angels mumbo jumbo wasn’t good for my stress levels.
How long had June dealt with all of it? She always seemed to have an inner peace about her, a calmness, a stillness that couldn’t be broken. Though, I had broken it a few times. She still recovered quickly.
How did she do it? Why did she do it? I took another sip from my mug and leaned against the radiator. It hadn’t kicked on in a few days. My heat was probably turned off. I would need to call my landlord, I thought absently. June didn’t feel the cold or the heat. She was dead. Frozen in time. Dead but not dead. She was still warm to the touch, and she could still feel things. That kiss…
I ran my fingers along my bottom lip. It still tingled at the memory of it. My bottom lip still hurt from where our teeth had met and cut it. That kiss had hurt in more ways than one. It made me feel things, confess things, that I wasn’t sure were true. Were they my feelings? Truly mine? Was it possible to fall in love with someone so quickly? Was it even that quickly?
She said she had waited three millenniums to kiss me. Had she never kissed me in any of my past lives? God, it was so weird to think about having lived a different life, but to have had the same soul. Is what I’m feeling the result of a build up of emotions over the course of several lifetimes? Or were they all authentically my feelings? Did I really love, June West, my Grim Reaper? Would I ever know?
I took another sip of my coffee and looked up into the sky. It looked cold outside, but standing in my living room with my radiator turned off, I had never felt warmer.
Chapter 9
“Right, this way, Ms. Trust.” A woman, not much older than myself, said as she directed me down a hallway.
“You’re Jessica, right? Henry’s assistant?”
She paused and nodded. “Please, call me Jess. I don’t think we were ever formally introduced.” She held out her hand.
“Then I insist that you call me Eliza. You can’t be much older than me. It would be strange not to.” I chuckled and reached out to clasp her offered hand. When we touched, a static shock seemed to transfer into my hand and up my arm, making it numb for a brief moment. I tried to pull back, but Jessica held me tightly. I looked up at her questioningly, only to see her eyes seemed to be glazed over, as if she wasn’t quite all there at the moment. It was disconcerting. This all happened in the span of a few seconds, before Jessica was back to normal, and squeezed my hand once before releasing me.
“Looks can be deceiving, Eliza. You should be careful who you offer your hand to.”
I frowned, unsettled, as the same feeling of reality shifting around me disorientated me. I slowly nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Like a light switch, Jessica smiled brightly, and the tension between us lifted instantly. “Good, now that we are introduced, how about I take you to Mr. Smead so you can sign that contract?”
I followed her through a side door leading away from the gallery and into a hallway with several office spaces. We paused in front of an open door. Entering, I was greeted by Henry, as well as two other men, one of which was Peter. They all stood as I entered.
“Sorry, am I late?”
Henry shook his head and led me over to the seat next to Peter. “Not at all Ms. Trust. We were all just early. Your lawyer was just asking us some preliminary questions about the contract, but now that you are here we can begin negotiations. Please, take a seat.”
I smiled, trying to shake off the nerves. This would be my first major contract with a big gallery. I was good at dealing with negotiating industrial machinery, or deals that would better my current company at the time, but those all dealt with things that I knew the value of. Angela was always telling me that I was a talented artist, the problem was that I didn’t entirely believe that, and now I was going to negotiate the value of something subjective, my art, my talent, and my value. I smiled at my lawyer.
“Hello, Peter.”
He nodded. “Eliza, it’s good to see you.”
Henry took a seat. “Well, gentlemen and lady, shall we begin?”
Three hours. It took three hours to sign one contract. Despite Henry’s upbeat personality, he was a true businessman. I could see why Philo’s has made a name for itself and was known to house some of the most renowned artists in Seattle. If it wasn’t for Peter, I don’t know if I would have been able to navigate the contract, let alone walk away with what I thought was a great deal. Henry wasn’t unreasonable, but he was aggressive behind his charming smiles. He still believed in treating his artists right and the aggressiveness I could deal with. It was when I had to decide how much I was worth to the gallery that I floundered and Peter had to take control.