It's a Wonderful Death

by Sarah J. Schmitt

  “Drink this,” he commands, but his voice is broken and weary.

  Without warning, I feel a pull, like I’m supposed to go somewhere else. Which is crazy, right? I mean, I have a broken leg for sure, so it’s not like I can walk out of here.

  But the nagging feeling doesn’t go away. Finally, I turn my attention away from my mother and the beeping machines and wait for something else. But the only thing I feel is the occasional zap of static electricity. It’s kinda like that zap I get when I shuffle my slippers across the carpet and then go behind someone and touch them so that they get a shock. But it doesn’t hurt. In fact, it kind of tickles.

  “RJ,” a soft voice says behind me.

  I know that voice. And I don’t want to turn around to see the too-familiar face.

  “RJ,” the voice says with more authority. “It’s time.”

  “No,” I say, this time without any problem finding my voice. “It’s not. Not again.”

  Not again? Wait. What do I mean not again? There’s that fuzzy static sound in my brain, but this time, when I try to push it aside, it pushes back and I am flooded with memories I couldn’t possibly have.

  Or could I?

  “RJ.”

  The pain in my leg is gone and my head feels fine. I gingerly reach up to touch my face, vaguely aware that my wrist doesn’t hurt. The scratches on my face are gone. “You have got to be kidding me,” I say, whirling around to see who’s talking to me.

  Standing before me, complete with his black robe and sickle, is Gideon, my personal, repeat Grim Reaper.

  Chapter 38

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I roar. “I didn’t even get a full day.”

  “Technically, you got a little more,” Gideon claims.

  My jaw drops and I stare at him. “How much of that time was spent in a drug-induced state?” I ask.

  He shrugs.

  “And what happened to my seventy years, anyway? I thought I had decades left before I was supposed to see you.”

  Gideon shrugs again.

  Stupid Reaper. But this time, I’m not letting him hustle me onto the train before I get some answers. Sitting down cross-legged, I look up him with my most defiant face. “I’m not going until you tell me what’s happening. Why am I here? Why did I die?”

  Gideon rubs his eyes with the tips of his fingers and then, to my surprise, plops down next to me. “We have to do this now?” he asks.

  “You know as well as I do, once I’m on that train, it’s a short hop to the Lobby where you dump me off and leave me until they call me for processing.”

  He looks at me quizzically.

  “What?”

  “Once again, you defy what’s supposed to happen.”

  “How so?” I ask, careful to pay attention for any tactic that might distract me from getting the answers I need.

  “No one thought you would remember being here before. Not yet, anyway, but you do.”

  I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to distract me with something odd and fascinating about myself. Not gonna work. “Whatever. Tell me why I didn’t live to be a hundred or something like that,” I demand.

  “You changed your past and those changes showed up in your present. They also changed your future.”

  “Wait, are you telling me that by jumping through the hoops the Tribunal set out for me, I ended up trading in a long life for one more day?”

  “I suppose you could look at it like that,” he says with annoyance.

  “What other way is there?” I ask with equal annoyance.

  He stands and extends his hand to help me up. I don’t take it. With a sigh he says, “You could look at it like this: while your old timeline offered you many years, it was a wasted life void of true friendships, compassion, and accomplishment, whereas your new life, though shorter, was full of putting the needs of others before yourself and thus leaving the world a better place. You literally changed people’s lives.”

  “I don’t see how,” I mutter.

  He stretches his hand a little farther. “Just walk with me. I won’t make you get on the train until you’re ready.”

  “Why would I believe you? If memory serves me correctly, the last time you didn’t exactly give me a choice.”

  He holds his other hand up like he’s taking an oath. “On my honor.”

  “You’re not going to wait until the last possible moment and then shove me through the doors?”

  “Just get up.”

  This time I do, but not with his help.

  “Some things will never change. You’re still as stubborn as always.”

  “So how did I change lives in just a couple of hours?”

  “A day,” Gideon reminds me.

  “Whatever,” I spit out.

  “Well, you saved that little boy.”

  Okay, it’s hard to argue with a Grim Reaper when it comes to death. “That’s just one person.”

  “What, that’s not good enough for you? Seriously, you don’t have to worry about me pushing you through the door of the train. What you should be worried about is me pushing you in front of it.”

  “I’m already dead, remember,” I mutter.

  “True, but the ride to the Lobby is pretty bumpy. Better to be inside than out.”

  We must be nearing the station, because I see more and more souls and Reapers filling in all around us.

  “This is my real time, huh? This is what I fought against the angels for? One more day?”

  “And a life well spent,” he adds.

  I can see the train pulling in ahead of us. I know he’s right, about this being my time to die. I don’t like it, but in my gut, I know he’s right. I wonder if this is why everyone else is so catatonic. It’s their soul’s way of stopping them from totally freaking out about being dead until they are able to see their life in review. Except for the really old. They still seem almost joyful.

  “Hey, Gideon,” I say.

  “Yes?”

  “How come I’m more like the geriatrics than the walking zombies?”

  “Hard to say. Unlike the young or those who quickly departed, older souls have spent an entire lifetime preparing for this moment. It’s not a surprise. In fact, in most cases it’s a relief. Maybe since you’ve already been through this your soul isn’t as, oh, what’s the word?”

  “Freaked out? Hysterical? Going full-out mental?”

  “Something like that.”

  His answer gets me thinking. “What about those who have been sick, like with cancer?”

  “Depends on whether they were prepared when their time came or not. But I will tell you, no matter how much someone is prepared on Earth, the younger the body, the harder it is on the soul. When death interrupts the perceived circle of life, preparation is meaningless.”

  “So we’re really just born to die?” I ask.

  Gideon shakes his head.

  “What’s the reason, then?”

  “Everyone has something to learn and something to teach. Once you have done those two things, you have accomplished your life mission and it’s time to come home.”

  “Then why the big deal about Heaven and Hell? If you are on Earth to do a mission, why have all the hoopla about whether you go up or down?”

  “Because not everyone learns or teaches. And if they cannot come to terms with what they were sent to do and their failure, eternal peace is out of their reach.”

  “So they get sent to the place of fire and brimstone?”

  He shakes his head. “Hell isn’t like that. Think of it as rehab. Most people who enter the Gates of Hell do so with the intent of being reborn. Of being given a second chance to get it right.”

  “You’re kidding? Hell is a revolving door back to Earth?”

  He nods. “Sorta.”

  I’m about to ask another question when one of the Reapers pushes past me. “Hey watch—”

  Gideon grabs my arms and starts to pull me in the other direction. “Come on, RJ. Let’s get in the other car
.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” I look over my shoulder, and that’s when I see James. I spin back to face my Reaper. “You knew,” I hiss. “You knew he was going to be on the train and you were trying to hide him from me.”

  “You can’t talk to him, RJ. You can’t break through to him. We have no idea what he will do.”

  I yank my arm away and run through the almost full station toward the next car. Scanning each window only to find nothing, I’m about to give up when I see James sitting slumped in one of the chairs.

  The ding of a bell warns that the doors are closing and I leap in between them, trying to push them open. To my horror, the train begins to move while I’m still stuck. Suddenly, two hands reach in over my head to create just enough space for me to slide through and sprawl on the floor. I look up to see Gideon grinning down at me.

  “Just don’t tell anyone I pushed you on the train. You’ve caused enough trouble for me lately.”

  “Funny,” I say, as I stand to dust myself off. I look around to the spot where I saw James, but he’s gone.

  “Leave him alone,” Gideon pleads.

  “Why? He should know Sandy is waiting for him.”

  “It’s against protocol.”

  “Right,” I laugh. “Since when have I followed protocol? No one will blame you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He steps back in surprise. “I’m not worried about me, or you, for that matter, but James has been in a vegetative state for almost a year. His soul has been trapped inside his body. He needs time to process.”

  “He needs to know she’s waiting.”

  Gideon doesn’t say anything as I start to move through the train car, looking for James. In the far back corner, a Reaper stands with his cloak-clad back to me. I try to peek around him, but he shifts his weight.

  “It’s alright, Elijah,” Gideon says from behind me. “We all know you can’t stop her once she’s made up her mind.”

  That doesn’t sound like a compliment. The Reaper turns to face us. “She’ll get us all in trouble with her meddling,” he says, glaring down at me.

  “I’ll take the blame if it ends badly,” Gideon assures him.

  Elijah steps back, muttering something about childish whims and in his day, but I ignore him and focus on the crumple of a man sitting in front of me.

  I kneel down, careful not to touch him. “James,” I say softly. “James, can you hear me?”

  He gives a slight nod, and whether it was him or the train, it’s enough encouragement for me to keep going. “James, my name is RJ. Do you remember hearing my voice in your hospital room? I was talking with your mother.” Again he gives a faint nod. This time it was definitely James and not the train.

  “Good. Now, James, I need to tell you something, and we don’t have much time.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “James, Sandy will be waiting for you when we get off the train. She’s been waiting for you since the night she died.”

  Slowly, as if fighting against invisible chains, James raises his head. His eyes, cloudy with confusion, try to focus on me.

  “She didn’t want you to come here and be alone. So she waited,” I continue.

  James opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. Not at first. Finally, after several attempts, he says, “Sandy.” His voice is hoarse, but there is no denying what he’s saying.

  His right arm twitches and then raises only to plop down at his side. He tries to stand but his legs don’t cooperate.

  “I knew this was a bad idea,” I hear Elijah say to Gideon.

  “Just give her some time,” my Reaper says. “She’s got a way with the souls.”

  I’m not sure if it’s confidence or not wanting a colleague to prove him wrong, but Gideon’s faith in me bolsters my own. “Hold still, at least for now.”

  “Where is she?” James asks, his words coming out slowly.

  “She’s not here. We’re going to see her. You have a little time, but James, I need for you to look at me.”

  And he does. “Okay, I know you feel like something is holding you down, like you’re in a fog, but you aren’t. You can control what’s happening to you. You just have to concentrate.”

  He begins rocking back and forth, repeating, “Sandy. Sandy. Where is she?” over and over again.

  I look up at Gideon, pleading for help. But his face is stone and unreadable, unlike Elijah’s, whose I-told-you-so grin makes me sick. I turn back to James and lay my hand on his knee. Without warning his eyes clear and he reaches out and grabs my wrist, yanking my fingers close to his face.

  The ring. I forgot I was wearing the ring I found under my bed. But it’s not mine. It’s Sandy’s.

  “Where did you get this?” he growls with such fierceness that I’m glad I’m already dead. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure he might kill me.

  “She gave it to me,” I say, trying to pull my arm away. “She gave it to me so you would know I was telling the truth.”

  Slowly, he slides it off my finger and holds it up. Gone is the initial anger. Instead, his eyes fill with a mixture of love and sadness.

  “The car,” he says. “It pinned her under the water.”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “But it didn’t kill me. Not right away.”

  “No.”

  “My parents didn’t want to let me go and then …” He looks at me. “And then you came to my room. You told my mom that being hooked up to machines forever wasn’t a way for someone to live.”

  I glance back at the Reapers. “Well, that’s not exactly what I—”

  My words are cut off as he lunges forward and pulls me into a bear hug. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for giving them permission to let me go.” He pulls back. “You told them about your friend, right? The one who died of cancer.”

  I nod. “Madeline.”

  “Right. That’s what made them change their mind.”

  Gideon clears his throat. “We’re almost there.”

  I turn back to James, who is looking around at the rest of the passengers on the train. “Why are they so quiet?” he asks.

  “Because,” Elijah says, “that’s what they do. This way, Romeo, let’s go find your Juliet.”

  “Sandy,” James corrects, and Elijah smiles gently.

  “Of course. Sandy.” Elijah turns to Gideon and says, “I would get rid of that one as fast as you can. She’s nothing but trouble.”

  “Hello,” I say, waving my hand. “I’m right here.”

  Gideon just smiles. “Something tells me getting rid of her is going to be easier said than done.”

  Chapter 39

  James doesn’t waste any time racing to the Lobby doors. I follow behind, not wanting to miss the happy reunion. Which is why, when we get there and Sandy is nowhere to be seen, a sense of dread fills my stomach.

  “Where is she?” James asks, scanning the room.

  “I don’t know. She was waiting near the doors when I arrived last time. She should be here.”

  Overhead, a voice rattles off a list of names. Sandy’s name is not one of them.

  “Oh no!” I cry, heading to the line for the front desk. “This is not happening. We can’t be too late.”

  “What is it?” James asks when he catches up. “Do you know where she is?”

  We reach the line a moment later. “Look for her. If we don’t find her here, it’s too late.”

  “How do you know?” he asks.

  I wave his question off. “Just trust me.” I jump, trying to see the faces in the middle of the line, but I don’t see Sandy anywhere.

  Everyone takes two steps forward and that’s when I see a high ponytail bob at the front of the line. She steps toward the front desk and the smiling processing angel.

  “It’s about time,” I hear the angel say in a sing-song voice. “We’ve been wondering if you would ever give up and move on.”

  “James!” I yell. “At the desk. Stop her!”

  I hear a commotion behind me and t
urn just in time to see Lillith and her band of determined angels descend upon me, pulling me away from the line.

  But James is faster than they expect and he dodges their grabbing hands and pushing the other souls aside, leaping over the red velvet ropes. I watch in silence as he reaches Sandy, yanking her hand away just as she’s about to accept her life disc.

  “Sandy,” he says. But even from this distance I can see that her bright sparkling eyes are devoid of emotion. She’s become one of them.

  The ring. It has to be because she gave me the ring. She had nothing left to hold on to.

  “Give her the ring!” I yell as Lillith tries to pull me away toward the small room she reserves for the hopeless souls. “Give her the ring.”

  And, in one swift move, James drops to his knees and presents Sandy with her engagement ring. Even Lillith stops to see what happens. I guess they don’t get a lot of proposals in the Afterlife.

  As he slips the ring on her finger, her eyes clear but the reality of the moment takes a little longer for her to process.

  “It’s you,” she says, kneeling down in front of him and touching his face so gently I wonder if she thinks it’s a dream. “You’re really here.”

  “I am,” he says before kissing her sweetly on the lips.

  She shakes her head in disbelief. “But how?”

  “Your little bird,” he says before pulling her close again.

  She looks around until her eyes meet mine. I shake Lillith off and walk slowly toward them.

  “You did it,” Sandy says, bringing me into their huddle. “I tried to hold on as long as I could, but without the ring to remind me, I kept forgetting why I didn’t want to go when they called me. I guess eventually I gave up.” She looks at James and me. “But you made this happen.”

  Her eyes widen and she looks back at me. “Oh no. You’re back. Why are you back so soon?”

  “Change your past …” I begin.

  “Change your future,” Sandy finishes. “I’m so sorry.”

  I nod. “Me too.”

  “Well,” Lillith says, walking toward us, “now that this little reunion is over, perhaps we can move along and let the rest of these souls find peace.”