It's a Wonderful Death

by Sarah J. Schmitt

  “No arguments here,” Sandy says, taking James’s hand and striding back to the front desk. She takes her life disc and waits for James to collect his. Before they exit the Lobby she looks back at me. “You coming?”

  “Yes, RJ,” Lillith says in my ear. “Are you going or are you waiting for someone, too?”

  The truth is I have no one to wait for. I have nothing left to fight for. I’m exactly where I should be. But why don’t I want to go on?

  “You don’t want to do it, do you?” Lillith says. I shake my head and she continues. “This is why the soul protects the mind, shielding it from what all humans fear.”

  “And what’s that?” I whisper.

  She laughs. “Why, the unknown, of course.”

  “How come I didn’t have this problem last time?”

  “If you remember, you did, but you were more concerned about being right. That arrogance pushed you to overcome your fear. Now, there is nothing for you to do but move on and receive your Judgment.” She motions to the angel behind the counter who slides my life disc across to me. “But first, you must review your life. Who knows, maybe you’ll like it better than your last one.”

  Time slows to a crawl as I reach out and gingerly pick up the ordinary object. Once it’s in hand, she propels me to the opening of the hallway full of rooms. I can hear Sandy and James arguing about not wanting to be split up. A moment later, I hear her squeals of laughter and clapping of hands.

  “It’s time,” Lillith says and with a deep breath, I step over the threshold.

  The sounds of the Lobby fade away and I walk forward, searching for the nearest open room.

  “Need a little help?” a familiar voice says.

  I look up to see Yeats standing before me. A smile spreads across my face and I run to him, almost tackling him.

  “You’re here.”

  “Of course,” he says, “I’m still your Guardian, after all.”

  “Yeah, about that,” I say, pulling back. “You could have given me a heads up.”

  “I didn’t know it was going to turn out like this, not exactly.”

  I sigh. “I know, but you could have sent me a dream or a fortune cookie or something like that.”

  He laughs. “And what would the fortune say? Fail to save a little boy from a speeding car and you will live a long and prosperous life?”

  “Well, when you put it like that,” I mutter before glancing into the room. “Guess I better get this over with.”

  “I know your life didn’t last as long as you wanted it to, but I think you will be happy with the outcome.”

  “I better be,” I say, only half joking. “I’m not sure if the Tribunal is ready for another appeal.”

  “Right,” Yeats says, giving me a nudge into the room.

  After he closes the door, I carefully remove the disc from its case. It’s hard to believe that somewhere in the clouds an angel is looking at my life and deciding what to put on my highlight reel. I wonder how someone gets that job.

  The lights dim and my birth flashes up on the invisible screen, just like last time. But everything else has changed. Instead of petty fighting and backstabbing, each scene is full of laughter and silly moments with my friends. There is a dark period where I start hanging out with Felicity, but even then, I find time to spend with other friends. I watch as I read Madeline’s letter and see the faces in the crowd. Her words touch them and I can’t help but wonder how many of them will change because of her.

  The last night of my life flickers in front of me. The screeching of the tires and my mom crying when they tell her I’m gone. I haven’t given much thought to what she and my dad are going through and I’m so glad the last night of my life was spent with them.

  I expect the recording to end, but unlike the first time, it continues with my funeral. It’s held in the same gym as Madeline’s, but this time, rather than a sea of yellow, the bleachers are full of every shade of purple imaginable.

  I see Daniel, his face stricken with grief. I’m not sure how he manages another funeral for one of his best friends. But he does, though he staggers to his feet as he escorts my casket out of the building and to the waiting hearse. His sadness is unbearable and I wish I could tell him that I’m okay, that I’m sorry he’s hurting. But I can’t. All I can do is sit and watch him carry his pain.

  I wonder how my life, and more importantly my death, will impact his future. Is he still going to be a brilliant doctor and find a cure for cancer? Or does my sacrifice for a little boy change that?

  Luckily, I don’t have to wait long to find an answer. After my funeral scene ends, another set of clips begins. I’m not in a single one of them. You know at the end of some movies, when the director is kind enough to give you a glimpse at what the future has in store for the main characters? Like, marriage, kids, working in some magical office or something like that? That’s what this is like. Instead of focusing on my life, the images are of those I love and what is in store for them.

  My parents manage to stay together, holding tight to the strategies they began during their marriage counseling. In fact, they eventually adopt a little boy. I feel like I should be angry at seeing my replacement, but I’m not. I’m happy that they are able to find a way to come to terms with my death and to take a chance on being parents again.

  Next, I see Daniel, his face smiling as his blushing bride walks down the aisle. He’s the same old Daniel, except for one thing. The twinkle in his eyes has lost some of its brightness, and, for a minute, there’s even a flicker of sadness there and I wonder if he’s thinking about Madeline. But as quickly as it flashes, the look is gone when a vision in white appears at the end of the aisle.

  Turns out his bride, Jackie, is also his lab partner in medical school. Together, they break the sequencing code that opens up cures for several different types of cancer. They have three children. Two daughters they name Madeline and Rowena, for which I could kill him, and a son, Casey, who bears the name of Jackie’s brother, another victim of cancer and the reason she went into medicine.

  And the little boy whose stupid costume cost me my life, well, he’s a priest. I really hope I get some extra points for saving a man of the cloth. He helps run a support group for grieving parents that my mom and dad started after I died.

  Several other faces flash on the screen, but I don’t know any of them. And then, the images stop. The whirl of the disc player slows and everything goes quiet. I didn’t realize it before, but tears are streaming down my face. Not because I’m sad. I mean, I am, but that’s not why I’m crying. It’s because my life means something. Even in the future, my choices make a difference.

  “Are you going to sit there all day?” a voice booms from the doorway.

  Standing, larger than life, is Death Himself in his typical Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts.

  “You could have told me,” I say, standing up to face him. “You knew it would turn out like this, didn’t you?”

  “No, not at first, but I saw the changes taking place in the Records.”

  “So that’s why they were sealed?”

  He nods. “I was afraid if you knew what would come to pass you would change your mind. Just didn’t seem fair.”

  “To me or to you?” I scoff.

  “To you, mostly. And the world. You were intended to be a supernova. To burn brightly and powerfully and then to suddenly burst, leaving a legacy behind.”

  Great. Death Himself compares me to a dying star and I have nothing to come back at him with. “What happens next?” I finally ask.

  “Well, you still have to go to Judgment, but since I know how that ends, you should be in and out in a blink of an eye.”

  “And then?”

  Death Himself swings an arm over my shoulder. “Have you given any thought as to what you want to do with your Afterlife?”

  I ponder his question for a moment. “Not sure. What kind of opportunities does this place have for a reformed mean girl?”

  His smile w
idens and takes on an almost gleeful twist. “Oh, I have a couple of ideas. How do you feel about counseling?”

  I shake my head. “Who could I possibly help? It’s not like I killed myself. What could I possibly do to help a suicide? ”

  His eyes twinkle. “What? You think you’re the only soul who arrives believing they should get a second chance?”

  “Yeah, actually, I thought I was.”

  Death Himself throws back his head and laughs, the booming sound echoing throughout the hall. “Sorry, sweetheart. You were only the first who actually had a case. No, we get all kinds and their assimilation needs to be handled delicately. On a case by case basis.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  He begins to tick his answer off on his hand. “Celebrities, politicians, self-entitled offspring of the rich and powerful who crash their mom’s car going one hundred and thirty miles an hour. And lawyers. We get a lot of lawyers trying to talk their way out of death like it’s a speeding ticket.” His laughs again and the air around us becomes charged with energy. “We need souls who are willing to help them assimilate.”

  “Wait, how come I didn’t see anyone like that in the Lobby?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “The Reapers funnel them onto a separate car that unloads away from everyone else.”

  “Why didn’t Gideon take me with that group the first time?”

  “What can I say, kid? You’re one in one hundred and nine billion. So, you in?”

  “What if I say no?”

  He shrugs. “It’s your choice, but this gig comes with an automatic bid through the Holy Gates and the power to pass back through them whenever you like.”

  “So this is like a job.”

  “Yep. One you are perfectly suited for.”

  “What about my memories? Will I keep them?”

  He nods. “You’ll need the experiences from both of your timelines to help the souls adjust.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “None.”

  “Can I quit whenever I want?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can I get that in writing?”

  Death Himself tries to look like he’s offended. “My word isn’t good enough for you?”

  I just stare at him.

  “Fine,” he says with a theatrical bow in my direction. “I will have the scribes write something up and deliver it to you posthaste. Is that alright with you?”

  I nod.

  “Then you’ll do it.”

  “What the heck. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Hey, what do you call this program or whatever it is?”

  “Diva Boot Camp.”

  Oh, no. What have I gotten myself into?

  Acknowledgments

  As an extrovert, writing a novel was sometimes an affront to my nature. It wasn’t until I started working on these acknowledgments that I realized just how many people were involved in It’s a Wonderful Death making the transition from an idea to “save a cheerleader” to a real-life book.

  There is no alternative reality that IAWD gets published that doesn’t include Liza Fleissig and everyone involved with Liza Royce Agency. Within a few minutes of talking to her, I knew she was the agent for me. Even when things seemed bleak, you never stopped believing this day would come. Thank you for seeing the “diamond in the rough” and having faith in me. You have transcended the role of agent and become my friend.

  To my fantastically talented editor, Julie Matysik, thank you so much for fighting to give this book a second chance. I truly believe everything that happened in the course of getting IAWD out was to make sure it landed at Sky Pony Press, or as I like to call it: home. Thank you for taking a chance on a debut novel about a cheerleader, a Hawaiian shirt–wearing Death, and a power hungry angel. You’re brilliant, and I am a better writer because of you!

  I had a much longer intro to the Fall Fourteeners & Fifteeners and the Fearless Fifteeners, but if I wrote about how amazing you all are, I would probably exceed my total word count for this book. I do want to single out Josh, JRo, Kitty, Stephen, Kristen, Kris, Amy, Joy, Kendall, Austin, Lisa, Kate, and Shallee. I have thanked the stars every day since we joined forces. From Social to Business, Squee to OMG, you have been my

  never-ending link to sanity and I am in awe of the collection of talent that has been assembled! We’re like nerdy superheroes!

  And then there is my agency and pub sis Amalie. Girl, we have really gone through some ups and downs in the last two years. You are an amazing talent and have always been there when I needed advice on what to do next.

  I don’t think I could write YA lit if I didn’t have day jobs where I get to hang out with teens and talk books. Thank you Jack, Emma, Alex, Kyle, Zoe, Erin, and the rest of the New Pal teens who stop by just to say hi or to marvel that I haven’t yet finished the latest new release: You keep me on my toes and I adore you all! And to my coworkers at HCPL: thank you for your ongoing support, especially Deborah and Cathy who are more than flexible with my schedule. To the other Sarah, I look forward to seeing what kinds of chaos we can create. Don’t worry, we’ll keep telling Dave we’re “programming.” Team Sarah rules!

  To the staff and students at SMCS! I am so blessed to be a part of our amazing community. Your enthusiasm is contagious, and I love getting to work with so many students who have a great passion for reading! I would be remiss not to say a special thank you to Terri, Jessica, Storm, and Jane who have endured my constant disorganization over the last two years, all the while instilling a deep love of learning in my kidlets! Sorry for all the permission slips that were turned in under the wire. We’re working in it!

  Whenever the negativity gets to be too much, I know I can always turn to you, Shannon. Unless of course you’re having trouble with the battlefield of the mind, in which case you are always welcome to share my mud puddle. Thank you for always being there when I need you and reminding me that I’m not the only blue in town.

  To Chris Maples who left this world far too soon. Thank you for reminding me that the prize is our life journey, not the things we leave behind when we’re gone. I really hope there is a Denny’s in Heaven. I’ll be the one with the twitching shoulder.

  Carrie, Shari, Kristin, and Chris (note I didn’t call you Cheasley), thank you for your support and encouragement. With cheerleaders like you, how could I doubt this day would ever come?

  Oh, Jessica Z. Where do I start? We bonded over diapers and cake decorating, not at the same time, of course, and even though time and distance have challenged us, I still count you among my closest friends. You hold the rare distinction of being the one person who has seen almost every page I’ve written during my adult life. Thank you for your brutal honesty and unwavering support. I would not be here without you!

  A huge thank you to the friends and family who willingly answered my plea for a safe place to farm out the kidlets so I could meet a deadline or take a mommy timeout to avoid utter meltdown mode! Emily, Vicky, Julie, Monica, Becky S., my outstanding in-laws, and “pseudo” in-laws, without you I would still be staring at a blank screen.

  To my beautiful niece Grace. You remind me the best beat to march to is the one that leads you to follow your passion. I am so inspired by the amazing woman you are becoming. I only have one question for you: What’s your favorite “real” book now?

  Many years ago, I attended the Midwest Writer’s Workshop (shout out to Jama!) and it changed my writing life in ways I never dreamed possible. I’m not talking about the exceptional faculty and staff, although they truly are! I’m referring to my favorite Cool Kids. Kelly, Joe, Dan, Kelsey, Irene, Lisa, Julie, and Terri, my soul sista; I don’t know what I would do if not for our annual retreats! Every writer should be blessed to have a writing family like mine. You are so imPRESSive! Can’t wait to see who gets the “Fancy Pants” next!

  It’s a little-known fact that the chances of finding your bestie for life increase dramatically when you dance in the rain together. Becky, we have b
een friends since voting was the only “adult” thing we were allowed to do, and while the road hasn’t always been easy, and we sometimes get lost, drive the car into the ditch, and then get “attacked” by a hot-dog dog, you have always been my person. Thank you for growing up with me, although I could have done without the tennis ball wake-up calls.

  To Mom and Nickle-nae, there are no words to capture just how much I love you both. Mom, you have encouraged me to follow my passion even when I rolled my eyes and ignored you. Thank you for never giving up. And, I really am sorry for ever being whatever age the kidlets are now. To my beautiful sister, I may not tell you this enough, but you are one of the strongest women I know. Stay true to yourself always and forever! To the rest of my family who number too many to count … literally … thank you for being exactly who you are. I am blessed to be loved by all of you.

  Keegan and Cooper (a.k.a. Kidlet #1 and #2, or the two halves of my heart), being your mom is the greatest privilege I have ever been granted. You are both so full of life and love that my heart overflows with joy every moment I’m around you. Except when I step on a LEGO. That is an entirely different emotion. Still, no matter what, I hope you always follow your dreams and when things get in your way, make your own path and push on. I love you!

  Finally, to Louis, the light of my life. You are the greatest person I have ever known. Between your patience, sense of humor, and unwavering love and devotion, I have all I could ever need. Thank you for supporting me and encouraging my dreams. I look forward to the time when we sit on the swing, telling the same stories over and over again as the sun sets over the Western sky. Until the mosquitos come out. You’re on your own then! Never forget olive juice!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11