by Penni Jones
“These two young men are in a little trouble. I need to access their records.”
“Anything for you,” she says in a way that tells us she would indeed do anything for Ernesto.
* * *
Naomi
“Let’s get you some pants.” It’s the first thing I think of when I see Louisa again. She is sitting in the chair across from my desk, or Doris’ desk depending on how you view it, still pants-less with bad hair.
“You can do that?” she asks with a hopeful grin.
I stand and then twirl around one time, modeling my new attire. “My tits are only a little bit out now.”
“You look great.”
“Thanks, Louisa. You aren’t supposed to be able to get new clothes until after grief watch, but I think we can make it happen together. Now visualize what you wish you were wearing right now.” I sound like a goddamn yogi leading meditation. “Tell me what it is so I can visualize for you, too.”
“A black T-shirt and Big Smith overalls and silver Doc Martens.” She’s smiling like she means it.
She closes her eyes even though it’s not necessary. I don’t bother to tell her because those living actions can be a comfort. She is wearing a plain black T-shirt and baggy Big Smith overalls.
“Open your eyes,” I say.
Louisa’s eyes open slowly and she looks down and smiles. “These are my favorite overalls. My best friend Shannon gave them to me when I was sad one day. He wore them all the time but had no problem giving them to me just because I was having a bad day.”
“That’s really sweet.”
“Look!” She holds up her feet to show me a pair of silver Doc Martens.
“Those are great.”
“I know! I’ve always wanted a pair of these but could never afford them.” She’s beaming, like her aura has turned yellow instead of gray.
“I heard your grief watch is going much better than expected.”
“It is. After my parents it wasn’t nearly as hard.”
“I’m going to be taking on more responsibility around here. As I understand I’ll still be your mentor until you’re gone.”
“I don’t want to go back.” Louisa pauses and asks, “Can I stay with you?”
“Oh, Louisa. I’m not interested in you that way.”
“That’s not what I mean. Geez. Like yourself much?” She crosses her arms over her chest and she looks like the girl I first met. “No, I mean I think I’m happier here.”
She’s definitely happier than when I first met her. But she has to try again, right?
“Things won’t be the same for you when you go back to be in a new body and have a new life. It will all be different.” I’m acting like I know firsthand when I don’t.
And Louisa is gone. Seems like I would have the power to make her stay and finish our conversation, but if I do, I haven’t figured out how to make it happen. I open the drawer and start looking through binders. I need to find something that will explain to me what my powers are now. I find something titled Entitlements. I pull it from the drawer, assuming it is a good place to start. When I look up Doris is standing in front of me. “For fuck’s sake, Doris. Can you put on a bell on or something?”
“How was Louisa?” she asks.
“She’s okay. She wants to stay here, though. She thinks she’s happier here than she will be back among the living.” I say the words absentmindedly, assuming there is no point in telling her.
Doris sits in the chair across the desk and says, “She can be a mentor if she wants. Mentoring isn’t always punishment-based. You can make some of those decisions now.”
“Really?” Something like that had not occurred to me. That I can make some choices on who stays and who goes forward. I guess I had not realized anyone would even want to stay behind. I don’t know why I hadn’t. All of us have chosen to be dead. “There’s something I need to know for sure before you go.”
“What is that?” she asks.
“You said you found a loophole to preserve memories. Are there loopholes for everything?”
“Look in the drawer.”
I start digging through binders. The drawer seems bottomless. “What am I looking for?”
“You’re looking for a binder titled Exceptions. It is important that you use exceptions sparingly. If you use them too often it will throw off the Death Shadow balance.”
I find the binder and put it on the desk.
“I have decided to leave soon. I’m going to spend some time saying goodbye to a few friends I made here. And then I’m leaving.”
Doris has friends? I took her for one of those lone wolf types who didn’t have any friends because her go-to defense mechanism of cold bitch naturally kept people away.
“Okay. Please let me know before you go. I’ll try to figure out what questions I have.” I don’t even know where to start with questions. I don’t know what I’m doing. Not that Doris is concerned. I can’t tell if it is because she is confident in me or because she is just ready to get out of here. I guess it really doesn’t matter.
“Remember, if you exercise your rights, and it is a right, exceptions will put you in a morally questionable position,” Doris says.
“Highly questionable?” I was no stranger to morally questionable circumstances. In high school I made out with my best friend’s boyfriend on the regular. As far as I know she never found out. I didn’t feel guilty. I didn’t even feel guilty about not feeling guilty. And that was barely scratching the surface of my morally questionable past. I once secured a promotion by vaguely promising sex to my boss. I didn’t deliver on that vague promise. I wasn’t an actual whore. Just kind of slutty by church standards.
“To reap the benefits of exceptions for yourself you will be bumping other people back in line. It will take them longer to get their vapid body.” Doris says these words as if she’s explaining how to make pancakes. “But you cannot take someone’s spaces unless they monetize them.”
“Monetize them?”
“While souls are waiting for their vapid body selection, they can spend places in line on things like clothing and books. Creature comforts. They have to make the decision to sacrifice spaces before you are privy to them. But if you do it too many times to the same person, they will go to Oblivion.
“Have you done that? Sent someone to Oblivion accidentally?” I’m not judging her, really. Okay maybe a little. I’m just interested more than anything.
“Only one,” she says with an emphasis on only. “And at the time I didn’t know that would happen.”
“Did you take people’s spots to secure your memories?” I ask.
“Yes.” She places the photograph of Dylan on the desk. This seems to have become part of our normal routine. It’s as if she wants me to admire him, admire who she will be.
“I think I will get some of those really cute Buddy Holly glasses. This is a perfect face for glasses.”
She is done talking to me about the things I need to know. I guess it’s more important for her to talk about her new looks. I can’t begrudge her the excitement of a hot, young body.
Chapter 25
Luke
The three of us are squeezed behind the small metal desk. Not solid metal. Nothing is solid here. But it looks like metal. Ernesto sits in the chair with Greg and me on either side, bent in a way that would’ve hurt my bad knee in life.
Either I’ll lose all of my memories soon or I’ll be pulled into Oblivion. The end result is the same. What is left of me will be gone. But I continue to write in the notebook. Even if it’s futile, I have something to say that I need get out before it disappears.
“You boys have quite a bit in common.” Ernesto does not elaborate. He just keeps reading the screen. And for some reason neither of us bother asking what he means.
“Have you found anything that can make this stop?” I ask.
“Not yet.” Ernesto taps his finger to his chin and says, “You two boys were born in the same hospital. You were both bo
rn in Little Rock, Arkansas.”
“That’s cool,” Greg says with zero enthusiasm.
“I guess we have more in common than our taste in women,” I say. Greg looks at me with a sneer. For some reason he is still handsome even when he makes a terrible face. I would look like I was having a stroke if I made a face like that.
“Okay wait. Here’s something.” Ernesto pauses for what feels like a very long time while we wait. He stares at the screen intently. I can see what he’s reading but it doesn’t make any sense to me. Until I see one word, a name. Ernesto points at the screen and asks, “What exactly have your dealings been with Doris?”
“After Edgar was gone, she was my caseworker,” I say.
“I don’t know who Doris is,” Greg says.
“Well, she knows who you are. And I’d say she doesn’t care for either of you.” Ernesto looks at me and then turns to Greg and then looks back to the screen.
“Why would Doris be singling us out?” I ask.
“I have no idea. Seriously, who the fuck is Doris?” Greg crosses his arms and squints his eyes.
“She’s a caseworker, she’s in charge of the mentors,” Ernesto says. “She’s a ball-buster. No one who crosses her comes out better for it.”
“I don’t know what I could’ve done to offend her.”
“I’d say you’ve done more than offend her. She’s downright wrathful.” Ernesto continues to stare at the screen.
The words I see include “penalty,” “grief watch challenged,” and “distraction.”
Pacing feels like the most natural physical response. I replay as much of my interactions with Doris as possible as I shuffle. I did everything she instructed me to do. I don’t understand what has happened.
“This has to have something to do with Naomi,” Greg says. “But what?”
Ernesto looks up from the screen and at each of our faces. “Look, I don’t want to alarm you. But the last guy who was in this position disappeared before we could find out why. I asked around and the rumor is all he did was suggest that Doris learn how to take it easy.”
“Anyone who meets Doris comes to the same conclusion, I would imagine,” I say and then hope that she can’t hear me somehow.
“True.” Ernesto stands and says, “Looks like we need to continue our adventure, boys. We have to go to the Suicide Soul Station.”
It sounds so festive, like a stop on a Halloween train ride.
We follow Ernesto out of the door and into the hallway. We are across from a piercing kiosk. The idea of piercing souls’ parts doesn’t quite make sense to me. But I don’t have time to figure it out. Maybe after this line business is sorted out, I can ask questions.
Ernesto says, “There was a memo in my email just now. After forty years, Doris is training her replacement.”
“Memo? You mean like this is just a regular old office?” Greg asks.
“You have electronic mail?” I ask.
“One thing at a time. What you need to know here is that her replacement is none other than your friend Naomi. Hopefully, we can catch Doris before she leaves.”
“Hopefully?” I ask.
“Yeah, hopefully. If not, I don’t know how I can help you.” Ernesto pulls ahead of us a few paces, his cue that he is not in the mood for any more talking right now.
We move forward in silence.
* * *
Naomi
I’m alone when I realize that I haven’t asked Doris whom she was stealing spots from. Maybe I don’t really want to know. Or maybe I assumed it wasn’t anyone that I could know. After all, I only know about four people.
I somehow summon Luke’s file. I’m still not exactly sure how that works. It’s kind of like one of those banking tube things but my brain is where the car is. Luke is number 268 in queue. As I am reading about his lousy grief watch, he slips to 269.
I summon Greg’s file. He’s just like Luke. Number 243 and slipping.
I search through the binders in the drawer, hoping for something that will tell me how stop this. Doris doesn’t need all of her memories. I pull up Exceptions. I’m reading the page about memory preservation when Doris appears before me.
“Still reading up on how to keep memories?” she asks. There is a folder under her arm, presumably full of information on Dylan Pine.
“Why did you take spots from them? Why didn’t you take them from someone I don’t know?”
“Don’t worry. I’m almost finished securing my memories completely. And then the slipping will stop.” Doris smirks at me as if she is annoyed. As if this is something I have done to her.
“They are both close to 300, Doris.”
“Everything has a price.” She slaps a folder on the desk and puts her hands palms down on the flat surface. “Why do you care so much about these boys? They won’t even remember you soon.”
“I care because they’ve done what they were supposed to do. You can’t screw them over just to get what you want.”
“Yes, I can. That’s what you don’t seem to get. And now you can do what you want, too. She sits in the chair across the desk and narrows her eyes at me. “You’re not gonna make this a whole thing, are you?”
“Just stop, okay? You have what you need. You don’t have to preserve every single memory.” Did Doris choose me because she thinks I’m as selfish as she is? Am I? She obviously sees something in me that reminds her of herself.
What if she’s right?
“Don’t you think it’s time for your little pet Luke to prove that he wants to survive?”
“He proved it, Doris. Stop playing games with them.” I always took what I wanted when I was alive. Regardless of how it affected other people. But this goes way beyond that. I never sent someone to Oblivion to get what I wanted.
But, oh shit. I have sent someone to Oblivion to get what I wanted. Tony.
“I am assigning Nolan to someone else’s caseload. I assume you want to keep Louisa, and you still have a lot to learn around here. I am assigning him to Edith. You’ll meet her later.”
“You don’t have to do that. He’s not much work.”
“Okay.” Doris picks up a day planner from somewhere and says, “I’m going to introduce you to the rest of the staff later. I already sent out a memo letting everyone know that you are taking over the position.” She looks up and narrows her eyes again. “Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t let you down. I just don’t think you have to…”
“I don’t want to talk about Luke or Greg anymore.” Doris puts a thin binder on the desk and says, “This contains the names and bios of your staff. I suggest you familiarize yourself with it before the meeting.”
“How do you select time for things like meetings? How does time work here?” There is no use in me harping on the Luke issue right now. I might as well get something useful out of her.
“I’ve been wondering when you would ask, clever girl.” Doris smiles and places a watch on the desk. “Time is in longer increments here. We don’t go by the living realm’s minutes and seconds and hours. We go by segments. The meeting is in five segments. You can set an alarm here.” She points to the watch, revealing a touchscreen. “Set it for four and a half segments so you’ll know it’s almost time to be prepared.”
“Where do I need to be for the meeting?”
“Think the words ‘board room’ when the alarm goes off. Be sure to take the binder of staff information with you. You don’t want to look unprepared or unprofessional.”
“I’ll see you then,” I say in a passive attempt to rid myself of Doris.
“Yes, you will. One more thing.” Doris pulls a laptop from somewhere and places it on the desk. “Your password is King Lear. All one word. Familiarize yourself with this system and we will go over it after the meeting.”
“A laptop? I wasn’t expecting that.” I lift the lid and press the on button. There’s no cord attached and at first that alarms me. But there’s no need for electricity here.
“Yo
u are just beginning to be amazed, my dear.” Doris stands and goes through the motions of smoothing her skirt. She leans forward and says, “Don’t blow it.” And she’s gone.
Chapter 26
Luke
“I interacted with Doris when she first arrived. She had just finished her grief watch and had been allocated to the mentor program. Unlike most mentors, Doris’ assignment was not a punishment. One of the higher-ups saw something impressive in her and thought she would be valuable in Suicide Soul Station.” Ernesto taps his finger on his chin.
We’re standing on a giant conveyor belt, moving through a room, more of a giant airplane hangar, that is mostly dark with the splashes of rainbow-colored lights every few seconds. It’s a good thing none of us have epilepsy.
“She had hard edges. But she was softer than she is now.”
“Were you friends?” I ask.
“Sort of.” Ernesto shrugs and continues, “We helped each other out. I showed her the ropes around here when she needed the help. So, when she got settled into the job, she offered to help out an old girlfriend of mine who had recently been added to the suicide soul list.”
“Maybe it’s possible she will give you a favor without expecting anything in return?” Greg asks.
“Maybe. But more likely she will feel like her obligation to me has been fulfilled. Somewhere along the way Doris became obsessed with checks and balances. A favor for someone requires a favor for her in return. A soul here requires a soul there. I don’t believe she will have any unbalanced relationships at this point.”
“What is this place?” I ask. Every time the colorful light flashes, I see faces in the walls. Some are smiling, some are frowning, some are laughing, some are mid-scream. I look down to the conveyor belt to avoid seeing any more faces.
“These are the souls that are being cleansed. It’s sort of like a jail for the afterlife. These souls are murderers, rapists, pedophiles. They will eventually move on once they have been cleansed of their unnatural urges.”