by Aurelia Fray
It went right through her chest.
She gave a slight shudder as my hand felt something small and round. I closed my fingers around it and pulled gently. A serene smile filled her face before she breathed her last.
Then a light filled her body. Her spirit stepped out and stood before me. She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Now what?” I said dumbly.
“What does the manual say?”
“Oh.” Right, the manual. I held the soul carefully in my left hand while the other fumbled for the manual. The next page described a flashlight and to point it at the wall. I set the book between my arm and body and felt in my pockets for a flashlight. Sure enough I find one and followed the directions. A large glowing door appeared.
“Send me on,” she said.
“Um... walk towards the light?” I said cautiously.
The old woman glanced back, snorted, then laughed and walked through the doorway. I stared after her. I felt her gratitude and relief. Suddenly I found myself back in the car, the little black book on the seat next to what looked suspiciously like a woman’s purse. I opened it and found the soul in there, safe and sound. I picked up the little black book and found the woman’s name on the first page. I took a pencil and crossed her name off.
I set the book down and let my mind wander to everything that I’d just gone through. What the hell was all of this? Death? Had I just ended that woman’s life? Shouldn’t I feel sick? Was I a murderer? Oddly enough I felt at peace. Things felt right.
I noticed a folder with the bank’s logo on it. It was the elderly woman’s file. I needed to switch back to something that didn’t require thinking. I filled out her paperwork and recommended that in light of her death the bank give the family a little bit longer to sort things out. Raymond would be annoyed, but it was my signature on the paperwork, not his. I drove back to the bank trying not to think about the morning’s events.
How the hell was I going to explain all of this to Kelly?
***
I’d been right. Raymond was understandably pissed off.
I didn’t get my raise.
“Better luck next time,” my assistant said.
Next time? I shuddered at the thought. No. There would not be a next time. Never again. I was going to return to my life as a repo man and forget anything to do with death. I went to my desk and sat down. On the desk was little black book. I turned to its first page.
“Well done. Took you long enough though. And don’t even think about trying to get out of this. Use this notebook. It will lead you to the next on the list. Miss a name and yours will take its place. Remember your predecessor’s fate.”
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
***
The next month passed by in a blur. By day I was a licensed repo man in charge of repossessing things people hadn’t made payments on. By night I wore a suit of a different color. The notebook had been, much to my annoyance, true to its word. It led me everywhere I needed but didn’t want to go. Some of the cases were easy. Others didn’t go so easily. One guy threatened to jump off the top of his building if death, me, came any closer to him.
Yeah, I didn’t get that one either.
I had to start getting creative when I had three therapists in a row though. Fortunately Kelly had wanted me to see a counselor with her anyway. Still, I was running out of excuses. Sooner or later I was going to have to tell her the truth. She deserved the truth. But the one time I came close to telling her I found the little black book with a warning in it.
“Tell her and your soul is next.”
Great. Now either my personal life or physical life will be on the chopping block. I have to smooth things over with Kelly.
But there was still the threat from the notebook. It left me wondering who was writing the notes? Who told death what to do? Am I the only one? All I have are questions mixed with an anxiety-filled job I didn’t want. And Kelly was getting suspicious. I sighed heavily and leaned back in my office chair. Moments like these were fleeting. I knew I should enjoy them while I could. I glanced down at the newspaper. One of the top stories was of a group of teens going around traumatizing elderly people at nursing homes by wearing death robes and skeleton masks. My hands tightened and I frowned.
They were going to give Death a bad rep.
I shouldn’t care. I didn’t want to be doing this job. Everything was to keep Kelly and me safe.
So why did I feel so pissed off?
I took out the little black book and wrote on an empty page “Teens. Nursing Home scares. Where?” And waited.
Nothing. I tried again. “Where can I find them or I hang the suit up and you’re own your own.”
I waited again. Then the word ‘Why?’ appeared.
“Because I won’t do it anymore if you don’t tell me where they are.”
“No,” the book wrote. “Why do you want to know where they will hit next?”.
Ah. Good question, why do I? What do I intend to do about it?
“Because they are giving death a bad rep. Someone needs to scare them straight and help those old folks out before one of them has a heart attack.”
A few moments passed and then “Northstar Nursing Home. 11:57pm”
“Thanks.” I wrote and put the book away. So what was I going to do? Well, might as well give them a taste of their own medicine, I thought.
And somehow that made me smile.
***
It wasn’t hard sneaking around a nursing home at night. The thought made me feel dubious at best. After the first name on the list, I had taken a shine to the older generation. Some didn’t want to go, but all of them were courteous toward me. They were polite. Respectful. In their minds I was a friend that had accompanied them on this last leg of their journey. I cared about them.
Very few of the inhabitants of the nursing home noticed me. For which I was glad. That meant I wasn’t needed. At least not for now. I found a nice dark corner and waited.
I didn’t have long to wait.
The younger a person is, the more energy they give off. It wasn’t like a bright light versus a dim glow – but rather a harsh color of youth, untested and untried by the world, compared to the gentle warmth of a soul that had seen and experienced much in life.
And these punks were some of the harshest lights I’d seen.
There were four of them. Dressed in typical rebellious teen fashion. I wasn’t sure why they had decided to do these terrible pranks. They might be good kids except for bad choices. I didn’t know. Wasn’t sure I cared.
What I cared about was what they were planning to do.
I watched silently as they pulled out dark robes and masks from a trash bag. I could tell that this time they were planning something a little different when one of them pulled out lighter fluid and a foghorn. My fists, clad in death gloves, tightened.
This could go one of two ways. I had learned enough from the book to know that if I wanted to I could take their souls. It was wrong, and I knew there would be repercussions, but it was possible.
After all I was Death.
But they were kids.
And I was not some grim specter with a scythe cutting down all in my path.
Shit. Kelly was beginning to be a bad influence on me.
Or perhaps the therapy was sinking in.
I gave a small sigh and rubbed my peace-giving glove. Perhaps there was something else I could do. And if all else failed, I could scare the shit out of them. Of that I was sure.
I approached them from behind.
I doubted they would notice me but I wanted to be sure. I reached out with the glove and touched the nearest one; a boy with a Mohawk and small scar above his eyebrow.
“You should go home,” I whispered. “And don’t come back.”
He froze. He turned his head looking for the source of the whisper. “Guys?” he hissed. “That’s not funny.” He continued getting dressed.
So much for the subtle approach. I�
�ll have to remember that I can’t take a page out of my therapist’s book. Perhaps I should try one with a longer lifespan next time.
“You should go home. Now.”
Mohawk turned to his friends. “Knock it off!”
This wasn’t getting me anywhere. All right, the gloves came off. So to speak.
“Listen you little shits,” I hissed loudly. “You’re on my turf. Get lost or you four are the next ones I take.”
All four heads whipped around in my direction in shock. It took three seconds. One to see me. Another to focus. The third to recognize what I was.
Then the screaming started.
The death suit didn’t come with a mask. I hadn’t worked up the courage to look in the mirror while wearing it. I still haven’t done it to this day. But whatever those four goons saw must have been in my face and, oh, how pissed off I was.
Screams.
Scrambling and falling backwards.
Followed by them cowering against the wall.
I reached down and picked up the can of lighter fluid and a small lighter that had fallen. “And just what were you planning to do with this?” I asked, trying to make my voice sound as dark and ominous as possible.
My efforts must have produced the desired results when one of them wet his pants. I was strangely proud of myself for that. Not that I normally relish scaring anyone even before I received the death suit. But still. Some things in life you just cherish.
I squeezed the bottle out in a line in front of them. When I finished I flicked the lighter on. “Gentlemen,” I said. “Let’s be frank. Either you or I have to go. And I’m not going.” I leaned forward with the lighter. “Do we understand each other?”
Fast nods and wet eyes gave me my answer. “I don’t have to remind you what happens if you see me again. Goodnight. And sweet dreams.”
I dropped the lighter and walked away. From the sound of scurrying footsteps I doubted I would be reading any more headlines about them. I didn’t stop walking until I reached my car.
I reached over absently for the little black book on the passenger seat. Somehow I knew it would be there. It always was. Like the suit.
“That was interesting.”
I smiled bemusedly. I hadn’t done it for the book. This one was for me. I picked up the pencil and began to write.
“Thanks for the info. I put it to good use.”
“It seems you have finally accepted your role.”
I snorted and closed my eyes. But after a moment I opened them. The book was right. I had accepted myself. I wasn’t burying my head in the sand. I glanced at the book again.
“You have a special case tonight. You’re ready for it.”
I frowned. I didn’t like the sound of that. I might be accepting my new job but that doesn’t mean I liked it.
I glanced at the address. And the world spun around me.
No. No way. Hells no and frozen over with ice cream. Screw this shit!
The address was for the cancer ward of a children’s hospital. A little girl’s time was up.
“What’s the problem? You have a job to do.”
“Oh hells no!” I spat. There is no way I was going to go into a child’s cancer ward. I didn’t care what the repercussions would be. Children were taboo. No way was I going to take a child’s life.
“Forget it. I’m done.”
“How many times do we have to go over this?”
“Then take me already because I’m done!”
“We tried that the first time. It didn’t work out too well.”
I froze. Wait, what? The night I found Death outside of Kelly’s window?
I wrote in the book, “Was Kelly supposed to be taken that night?”
“No,” the book replied.
“Wait, then why was death there? Don’t tell me he really was a peeping tom!”
“No, he was there for another.”
Another? What did the book mean by that? The only other person there had been-
Oh. Oh shit!
“You mean it was supposed to be my time?”
“Yes. You were supposed to go into her bathroom barefoot and slip on the wet floor, hitting your head on the toilet.”
Shit. What a way to go. But wait? I didn’t fall; death had. Did that mean that somehow I had been able to avert the death by transferring it somehow? If so this was getting interesting.
And dangerous.
Potentially, if transferring them could avert deaths, I could determine who might live or die. That was way too much power. I don’t want that responsibility. “Sorry, I’m done,” I wrote.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to have the temptation to see who lives or dies. It’s bad enough having to take people’s stuff let alone their lives.”
The book didn’t respond for a few moments. Finally it wrote, “Noted. But there is no one else. Besides, you haven’t done a half bad job.”
I swore. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. ”So far I’ve screwed up almost as many times as I’ve taken people. I’ve scared the crap out of those teens and I won’t take that little girl’s life. What makes you think I’m doing alright?”
“Because you care.”
“Not good enough. I’m done.”
“Fine. The suit will go to Kelly.”
“Like hell!” I swore. The idea of poor Kelly having to put the suit on was too much. Granted she could probably do a better job than I ever could. But still. She loved life. And besides, didn’t that mean I would have to-
Oh hell. That would mean I would have to die. The little black book was blackmailing me now.
I was tempted to torch the book with the car cigarette lighter. But somehow I knew it wouldn’t end things. I sighed and wrote, “I should recycle you.” Then I tossed the book into the glove compartment without seeing the reply.
What was I going to do? It was bad enough for an adult to be taken, but a child? A sweet, innocent child, unknown to the world, who had struggled so hard for life? Where was the justice in that?
That quieted me. Where was the justice in any of it? I’d taken souls. I’d watched those on my list either accept my coming or fight it with colorful language. In the end they always relented. Death was a sure thing. No one could escape it.
Just like I knew deep down I wasn’t going to be able to escape what I had to do next.
I started my car and drove. I didn’t really have a destination. But I wasn’t surprised when I ended up outside of Kelly’s apartment. I picked up my cell phone and called her.
“Hey you,” she said. “Are you coming over later?”
I smiled slightly. Her voice always made me feel better. It’s what made me fall for her.
“I hope so. I just have a few things to finish up at work.”
“All right. Hey, are you okay?”
No. I’m not all right. I really need you with me right now. But I couldn’t say that.
“It’s been a hard day at work. Looking forward to seeing you later.”
I could hear her smile in her voice. “I’m looking forward to seeing you too.”
“Hey Kelly?”
“Yes, James?”
“I want to move in with you. I never want us to be apart. Ever.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “I’d love that. You sure?”
“The most sure I’ve been of anything in my life.”
“That makes me really happy.”
That brought a smile to my face.
“Me too, babe.”
I hung up. I turned my car around and headed toward the hospital. It didn’t take me long to find the little girl’s room.
She was alone. She looked so pale and weak. She was fighting for breath. I glanced at the clipboard at the base of her bed. “Kelly Thompson. Age 6.”
I was tempted to find a shredder and pass the book through it. Even if I ended up dead for it, surely no higher power would hold it against me. It was a kid. A freaking six year-old little girl. Sh
e looked so small and frail. Her pale skin matched the white hospital sheets. She opened her eyes and smiled at me.
“Hello.”
It took me several heartbeats to find my voice. “Hello.”
It was in that moment that the full scope of my mortality hit me. I’d never experienced an immediate family member in the hospital. No loved one had died in my arms. Even the taking of souls in the last few months had not really hit. Sure I had been outraged and indignant at finding out I was to take a child’s soul. But I hadn’t really understood.
Not until right then.
This child was going to die. And it was going to be my doing.
My mind in a panic wandered to what I knew about death. Was denial the first stage? How could I accept the inevitable?
“Are you one of the doctors?”
I slowly shook my head. Was she too young to understand whom, or rather what, I was?
She tried to focus on my face but the effort seemed too much. I knelt down closer, hoping I wouldn’t scare her.
“I’m here for you,” I said. If that didn’t set her screaming I didn’t know what would.
“Oh.” Again she smiled. What was with the smiling? Didn’t she understand why I was there? I was about to rob her of her young life.
Maybe she did understand. Her smile was tired and accepting. She’d been fighting for so long. Maybe like with the old woman this young girl had been waiting for me. I didn’t know if the thought chilled my heart or disgusted me. I wasn’t sure I was capable of feeling anymore.
“Will you be my friend?”
I felt tears form in my eyes. Yes, I could still feel. I didn’t trust my words. I could only nod. That much I could do for her.
I leaned in closer and took one of her hands. I thought it would feel warm. It was cold.
What was right or wrong here? I didn’t know. All I knew is that I could comfort this small child. That’s all she wanted. In the face of an unending storm of pain she wanted a friend.
“I’ll be your friend,” I whispered.
Her smile widened, but slowly began to fade. Her pain ebbed and with it so did my breaking heart. I reached out with my other hand.
“Will it hurt?”
I shook my head. “No. It will be like falling asleep. And then no more pain. Only good things.”