Death

by George Pendle

  I never saw her again.

  The End

  And so history continued, much as it had before. The world kept turning, people kept dying, and I kept shipping souls off into the nether. It was good to be at work, good to be Death. The bright illumination of Life seemed to be extinguished within me, and all madcap thoughts of self-love and self-worth were banished from my mind. My world was dark once more, thick with fear, illness, and fatality. But every now and then, when a beautiful sunset took me by surprise, or a fluffy white lamb bounded across my path, the bright monster Life would rear up in me, flaming bright from the buried embers of my past, and I would sit down and scour the Book of Endings in the hope that I might find Maud therein. I still didn’t know what to make of our last meeting. At times I thought I understood what she had been saying; comprehension seemed almost within my grasp. But such moments passed quickly, the Darkness would curl around my feet and I would feel deliciously empty again.

  I was whirling across Earth without a thought in my head or a care in the world, when a fat cherub appeared in front of me with an irritated expression and a summons to Heaven. I hadn’t been up there since the strike, but everyone seemed quite friendly. Peter said it was a shame about the fight being canceled and gloomily returned to giving his mother a sponge bath. Much of Heaven was empty. I soon found out where they were when a loud cheer emanated from the gigantic stadium that had been constructed to house my demise. Looking in, I saw Jesus, in a spangly leotard, hoisting the Holy Ghost above His head and slamming Him into the canvas. Jesus strutted around the stage, to much applause, while the Ghost lay on the floor groaning, clutching His side in a very convincing exaggeration of pain.

  The Parliament of Heaven was empty too. God sat at the head of the hall by Himself.

  “They seem to prefer the wrestling,” boomed God, by means of explanation. “Is all miserable on Earth? Good, good. Listen, I need to ask your advice. Ever since Gabriel got back he hasn’t been the same.”

  At that moment a naked Gabriel ran across the Parliament floor. His body was painted with blue stripes and he was making car noises.

  “The thing is, he always did everything around here. I’m rather lost without him. I don’t suppose you know anyone who’d be able to help?”

  “Well, there is one person I can think of,” I said.

  I was greeted by a joyous Mother at the Gates of Hell, where she had returned to take up her old job. The automatic doors that had been installed had been corrupted by Hell’s atmosphere and had started to let demons out on the sly in exchange for a good oiling.

  It was quite a reunion. Mother lavished her attention on me, scalding me with hot cups of sulphur and dropping her famed iron scones on my feet, and Father almost remembered my name unprompted. In fact, it took some time before they would let me go in search of the person whom I had come for.

  Reginald did not look good. In fact, he looked downright horrible. One of his wings had been torn off at the shoulder, and his left eye had been sewn shut with barbed wire. His teeth had been replaced with razor-sharp pebbles that stuck out at all angles. The top of his head was singed, and his halo had dropped over his head and was now strangling him. He tried to smile when he saw me, but this only forced his teeth through his cheeks. He let out a groan and began scratching frantically at his belly. I inquired what was wrong with him, and he opened up his tunic to reveal that hundreds of tiny imps had made a hole in his stomach and converted it into a disco, complete with mirror ball, illuminated dance floor, and tiny imp DJ.

  “And it’s always Saturday night,” he sobbed. I flicked out the imps, tucked Reginald under my arm, and let the Darkness cover him. Soon we were on our way to Heaven.

  It was a rather dazed Reginald who awoke to find himself seated at the left hand of the Father.

  “Oh Master Death, thank you!” he sobbed. His wings and teeth had been repaired, his hair had grown back, and the disco in his belly had been converted into a chapel, complete with tiny angels praying in it. “I don’t know how I can repay you. One more eon in that horrible, horrible place and I think I might have gone bad forever.”

  “Yes, sorry about that,” boomed God, “but you should really strap up your sandals in the future, Reginald. Or should I say, Archangel Reginald.”

  Reaching into His eminence, He pulled out a halo brighter than all the others in Heaven and placed it atop Reginald’s head. Reginald seemed to grow before my eyes, swelling in size. For the first time, he looked young and happy and at peace with the Universe. For the first time in countless eons, he looked impressive.

  “Now,” boomed God, “go and clean out the heavenly latrines.”

  “Wh…what?” said Reginald.

  “The latrines, they’ve been blocked for ages.”

  “But Lord, would You not prefer I sang You hosannas?”

  “No. Now, there’s a mop and bucket in the cleaning cupboard.”

  “But Lord—”

  “Do hurry up, Reginald,” boomed God. “There’s a good chap.”

  And so Reginald sloped off, a strange, broken smile on his face.

  “And as for you, Alice,” boomed God. “I’m sorry the thing with that mortal woman didn’t work out. But I think We may be able to provide you with some suitable company. Now, there’s a chance that you…”

  As He droned on, my attention was diverted by the naked blue figure of Gabriel. He motioned at me not to make a sound. I saw he was trying to get to a thick green curtain I had never noticed before, which ran all the way behind God’s throne. As God continued to talk obliviously, Gabriel grabbed one end of the curtain and, with an almighty tug, heaved it to one side. Behind the curtain hovered a giant shining divine orb of light.

  “Who are You?” I asked.

  “Oh, hello. I’m GOD,” HE boomed.

  “God?” I asked.

  “No, GOD, all capitals.”

  “Don’t listen to HIM,” boomed God, suddenly realizing what was going on. “HE’S just a manifestation of Me.”

  “No, I am not,” boomed GOD.

  “Yes, YOU are, YOU even look like Me,” boomed God.

  “Lots of shiny things look like You,” boomed GOD. “Spoons look like You. Are You a spoon?” HE turned to me, “Now look, I created Him.”

  “Lies!” boomed God. “All lies!”

  At that moment Jesus came into the room still in His leotard.

  “Dad?” he beamed worriedly, looking back and forth between the two divine lights. “DAD?”

  God? GOD? Spoon?

  “Son!” the two blinding lights boomed as one.

  I made my excuses and left.

  In recent years, some strange things have been happening on Earth, or rather off it. I watched, in bemused fashion, as you started to put dogs into rockets and send them into outer space. I never quite understood what the purpose of this was—neither did the dogs—but I presume it was meant to be some sacrifice to appease the dark gods you supposed lived in the darkness of the cosmos. The human sacrifices weren’t quite as successful, as the men, by and large, went back to Earth alive, and soon you started sending rockets into space with no living things on them at all, which seemed to me a bit foolish, as you don’t want to make the dark gods angry if you can help it. However, it was one of these odd sacrifices of yours that brings me out of the past of my memoir and into the present.

  I had forgotten the conversation I had had with God about Maud until fairly recently. One day, not long before beginning this book, I felt myself being drawn by an irresistible force off the planet Earth. I was pulled through space, past the moon and the dead meteorites and comets, until I approached a red planet with a cratered surface, rich in volcanoes and lava plains. I was on Mars.

  According to the Book of Endings, a small spacecraft had been sent from Earth to land on the planet. It had descended onto the Martian surface using parachutes, rockets, and air bags, the last of which had suffocated and killed what seemed to be the only living life-form on the planet. I saw
the Martian’s puny body pressed deep into the planet’s red dust.

  When I freed its soul, it was rather confused as to what had happened, so I tried to explain. I told it about Earth, a planet teeming with Life, and the unfortunate accident that had occurred between it and the spaceship. But the Martian seemed angered by this and asked what it had ever done to the people of Earth to deserve such a fate. I told him that he had been killed purely by accident. He mumbled that he hoped there were humans in Martian Heaven so he could teach them some manners, and I was just about to pop its soul into the Darkness when I heard a cough from behind me.

  “Actually, I think this one’s mine,” said a dreadful voice.

  I turned around and saw a soft, dark, shapely figure standing behind me. It picked up the Martian’s soul and whispered gently in its ear, and the Martian nodded its little head and shook hands with the figure, before being absorbed into the impossible Blackness that exuded from it.

  I was agog. The being turned to me. The hue of her skin was the perfect whiteness of snow.

  “Finally!” she said, blowing out her cheeks. “Tenacious little buggers, those Martians.”

  She looked at me and smiled. “Well, I’m done here. Do you need a hand back at your place?”

  I felt a strange, light-headed elation. So it was true, I thought to myself. There really was Death on other planets.

  EPILOGUE

  Phil the Raccoon played a key role in forging Heaven’s first union of the saved, campaigning for more salvation and shorter eternities. Long associated with demons from the underworld, he disappeared while eating frogs at a diner in Hell. His soul has never been found.

  Urizel and his ever-turning sword of fire continued to guard the Eden Smelting Works until 2008, when he was made redundant. He was replaced by a small plastic alarm system that beeps.

  Reginald never felt at home in Heaven. He returned to Hell after spending only three thousand years in Paradise and is currently undergoing ethical reassignment surgery.

  Sunburn was finally dropped by the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. He is currently on a retainer for Club-Med Holidays.

  Satan, following the collapse of the Soul Exchange in Hell, has proposed plans to merge Heaven and Hell under the auspices of Afterlife Inc., stressing Hell’s booming population, and Heaven’s stagnant growth.

  Sin continues to guard the Gates of Hell. She is still married to Satan and continues to suffer from his neglect and cruelty. She is very happy.

  Gabriel spends most of his time collecting string.

  God and GOD agreed to submit to a paternity test to discover who was the true Father of all Creation. The results have yet to come back. GOD is currently only allowed to preside over Creation every other weekend.

  Jesus continues to prepare for a new tour of Earth. In the meantime, He still reigns in Heaven, bitch!

  Maud was never seen nor heard from again.

  Death is still with us.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Death thanks a great many people, objects, and things that have given unselfishly of their existences to make this book possible. A certain few stand out for their special contributions:

  Cholera, I never thought you’d make it, thanks for all your hard work over the years, you rule the mucosal epithelium.

  Malaria, it’s always a pleasure to work with you; you are simply the best.

  Long Scarves Worn in Open-Top Automobiles, I had my doubts, but you had a point.

  Not forgetting Zeppelins Filled with Hydrogen, Tortoises Dropped from Eagles’ Claws, Sharp Toothpicks, Agricultural Accidents, Titus’s Flea, St. Vitus’s Dance, St. Titus’s Dancing Flea, Red-Hot Pokers, Inflammation, Exflammation, Flammation, Laughter, Lies, Lead, Latrines, Lightning, Golf, Hot-Air Balloons, Hair Dryers, Electricity, Old Parachutes, Carbon Tetrachloride, Poison, Obsessive Fear of Being Poisoned, Robots, the Demon Core, Sharp Fences, Smallpox, Mediumpox, Largepox, Pneumonia (you too, Exposure!), Three-Day-Old Shellfish, Fugu, Indigestion, Leprosy, Gangrene, Low Lintels, Goat Hair in Pies, Sharks, Butts of Malmsey, Falling Pianos, Infectious Monkeys, Stampeding Buffalo, Runaway Trains, Potato Famines, and Kaiser Wilhelm II.

  God, I know we’ve had our disagreements, but I wouldn’t be nothing without You.

  This book is dedicated to all those who have gone before and all those who are to come. That means you. Yes, you. No. Not him. You.

  George Pendle thanks the various therapists, analysts, and religious leaders he consulted during the writing of this book. In particular, Jill Grinberg, Luke Dempsey, Lindsey Moore, Dr. Pepe Rockefeller, and Charlotte.

  PICTURE CREDITS

  Dover Publications

  New York Public Library

  Library of Congress

  University Libraries, University of Houston

  www.godecookery.com

  Publisher’s Note

  The names, identifying characteristics, and taxonomic rank of the persons, species, and supernatural beings included in this book have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, and those beyond all human conceptions of ethical responsibility.

  Copyright © 2008 by Death

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Three Rivers Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  www.crownpublishing.com

  Three Rivers Press and the Tugboat design are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Pendle, George, 1976–

  Death : a life / by George Pendle.—1st ed.

  p. cm.

  1. Death—Humor. I. Title.

  PN6231.D35P46 2008

  813'.6—dc22 2008011069

  eISBN: 978-0-307-45008-1

  v3.0_r1

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