“That depends on your decision,” John answered. Brigit glanced at him and saw the faint smile still on his face, yet, the blank expression was still in his eyes.
“My decision regarding what?”
“The opportunity I’m about to offer you. Thank you, Giuseppe,” John said as Brigit’s coffee cup was slid before her. Brigit looked down at the beverage and frowned. Noticing her expression, John asked: “Is there a problem?”
“I’m dead, right?”
“That’s correct,” John answered.
“Then, how can I be able to drink coffee? Aren’t I doomed for all eternity to thirst and hunger because of my life?” she questioned. Images of fire and damnation arose in her mind as the sweet aroma wafted across her sense of smell and deepened the craving of the brew.
“That’s the rumor,” John replied. “Let me assure you, Brigit, that everything you were ever told during your life may or may not be true. One never really knows the truth of it all until they pass over. Even then, perception remains an influence on the truth that is discovered. However, there is the occasional opportunity to stave off the result of the judgment of our days as mortals. At least, that is, until we decide it’s time to walk through that door.”
Brigit watched as John lifted his cup and sipped carefully, as if the steaming contents might actually harm him. When he set the cup back to its saucer, Brigit identified it as tea.
“I thought judgment of our lives would be one specific day – like some massive cult ceremony,” Brigit said as she finally reached for the coffee. John sighed and shook his head.
“Again, another rumor,” he revealed. “We were being held in judgment from the very first moment we drew breath. Unfortunately, it is taught almost world wide that there will be a specific judgment day and most of those who believe that think that they always have time to balance the books before they die. They are unaware that every second counts and an abrupt about-face at the eleventh hour does little to help the end result.”
“And what about those who have tried to be good their whole life yet their choice for love is considered the worst sin of all?” Brigit asked after the sip of coffee she had taken had slid warmly down her throat. She was suddenly aware of how much she had missed her morning coffee.
“Is love a sin?”
“It depends on who you share it with, according to majority’s thought,” Brigit answered.
“Indeed? Who, may I ask, is harmed by the love shared privately between two people?”
“Only those who aren’t involved in that love, I think,” Brigit joked. “Or those who might be jealous of it.”
“Ah, I see. Well, you know, jealousy is a sin. Love, however, is not,” John sighed. He reached for his tea cup again. “Now, to the business we really need to discuss.”
“Go ahead,” Brigit encouraged. She was finding herself a little more relaxed in John Blackwick’s company. He seemed to have answers to her questions. She wondered if he would have a true answer to the biggest question of her new existence.
“I have an opportunity that I hope you will seriously consider,” John began. “I have a position within my firm that needs immediate filling. The work load has piled up and without assistance; I see no end to the work if I continue to do it by myself.” John paused and smiled as if he had made a joke only he had caught. “Actually, there will never be an end to the work load, but right now, it’s quite a chore.”
“Your firm?” Brigit asked as she raised her coffee cup to drink. “What kind of position?”
“I would like to offer you the position of Assistant Reaper.”
Brigit covered her mouth to keep from spewing her coffee across the counter. Quickly she swallowed and looked at her companion in a mixture of surprised amusement and confusion. The business card he had given her had read: Reapers, Inc. She had conjured an idea as she passed through the night watching Maggie as to what that title might have meant; but now that idea was beginning to take a firm shape.
“Reaper? As in ‘the Grim Reaper’?”
“As in,” John replied seriously.
“Aren’t you missing something?” Brigit asked, trying to keep herself from laughing hysterically at the images running wildly through her head.
“I don’t know what you mean,” John revealed as he searched her face for the source of her amusement.
“You’re The Grim Reaper?” Brigit pressed. “Where’s the black robe and the scythe? And aren’t you supposed to be a skeleton or something?” Brigit was laughing by now, bordering hysterically. John watched her for a moment before allowing himself to see the amusement of her point. The images she described had belonged to Araxius, his mentor. The scythe was stored securely in the arsenal room at the office. John knew it would most likely never be used again. When she finally composed herself, she leveled her dark eyes on him and asked: “Why me?”
“Because love,” he began, “you’re not ready to cross over yet. You’ve made a commitment that you seem determined to keep. I find that admirable and I believe this offer would provide you the way to honor your promise to Maggie.” John spoke quietly, as if what he was saying really did mean something to him. A seriousness filled Brigit’s eyes and he knew he had her full attention.
“How do you know about my promise to Maggie?”
John reached inside his suit coat and withdrew the long black book she had seen him reading when she had entered the café. In the dim light over their heads, she saw her name embossed in gold across the cover.
“This is your portfolio – your file, if you will. Every second of your mortal life is recorded on its pages. Your promise to Maggie, to be there until the last breath, is written here. I know everything about you and I know that you have no intention of leaving her,” he replied.
“So how will being a Reaper help me with that promise?”
“The agreement I offer you is this: you’ll reap during the day, when Maggie is awake and going on with her life. Then, when night falls, you can go home to her – just as you would if you were still alive. Unfortunately, I can only afford to give you a few days of training; but,” John reached into his coat again and laid another black book on the counter. It was as thin as the first book he had pulled out, but the shape of it was different. It was more of a square than a rectangle, as if it were meant to be carried in one’s hip pocket. Brigit glanced at it briefly before returning her attention to John. “This book will be your guide. Then, you’ll receive the weapon of your choice and we can get down to business.”
“Wait, why would I need a weapon?” Brigit asked, concerned that her new job would require the need for a weapon.
“Not every soul is innocent; Brigit, and on occasion, they will not go peacefully. So, what do you say? Will you take the position?”
“I need to talk to Maggie,” Brigit said automatically.
She caught herself as the words came out. If she were still alive, she would discuss the idea of changing jobs with Maggie to be sure she was making the right decision. Maggie’s opinions had never steered her wrong. Now, Brigit suddenly realized, she was alone in this decision. She had to make up her own mind this time.
“What happens if I decline?” Brigit asked.
“Then,” John picked up her portfolio as if to add the emphasis to what he was about to say, “You will need to prepare yourself for your judgment. I will have to come for you eventually. Your promise to Maggie will be broken.”
“I see,” Brigit sighed. Her mind was quickly wrapping itself around the proposition and seeing the sense in taking the job. If she wanted to keep her promise – her oath – to Maggie, she had no choice really. Maggie was her life, the center of her universe. She would do anything to keep a hold of that. If John Blackwick was truly capable of delivering on his claim that he would send Brigit on to her fate, there was no other option than to agree to his offer. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Fantastic!” John proclaimed as he hurriedly began stuffing her portfolio back inside his suit co
at. “Take the field guide and read it tonight. It will go over topics I really won’t have time for during your training. Be at the office first thing in the morning and we’ll begin your training immediately,” he instructed as he slid from his stool and began buttoning his coat. “I’m so grateful you’ve made such a positive decision. I simply can’t bear the thought of never catching up. I’ll see you in the morning.”
With that, John the Reaper turned and exited the café. Brigit looked at the square black book left on the counter for her. Slowly, she reached over and slid it before her. Suddenly, she had so many more questions about everything. She wondered if the book would answer any of it.
6: The Reaper’s Field Guide
Maggie was already asleep when Brigit returned to their apartment. Though it was no longer necessary, Brigit was quiet as she moved through the living room to the bedroom.
Maggie had finally forced herself to return to sleeping there the night of the funeral. She had lain on the sofa for only a few hours before getting up and walking slowly to the bedroom. Brigit had immediately jumped to her feet and followed. As Brigit had thought they might, the memories of their private times together there flooded them as soon as they passed through the door. She knew, though, that Maggie had gone there to be enveloped in those memories and to find some comfort in them. Brigit had followed her so that she too could be enveloped in them and hopefully comfort her partner as she cried the final tears over her loss.
As she stood beside their bed, watching Maggie sleep peacefully, Brigit wondered if Maggie might be dreaming of her. The serene look on her face gave no indication one way or the other. Brigit sighed heavily and reached out her hand to caress Maggie’s cheek. A slight shiver followed the path of her fingertips on Maggie’s face and Brigit frowned. Maggie’s warmth under her touch was a reminder that she was no longer warm herself.
She had thought about everything John Blackwick had said during her walk home. She knew he was right. The position he had offered her would provide her the chance to keep her promise to Maggie. She would be able to watch over her during the night, to be by her side until that last breath finally came. The only problem was that Maggie would never know Brigit had kept her promise until that day came and only God knew when that would happen.
Silently, Brigit turned and left the bedroom. She had homework to get to if she was to start her new job with some sense of preparedness. Maggie had left the lamp next to her reading chair on. Brigit had noted that Maggie had left it burning every night since the accident. She wondered if it was Maggie’s subconscious effort to keep a light on for the lover that was never coming home, or if it was a reaction to the fear of being alone in the dark after so many years of having someone by her side.
Brigit set the book John had given her on the small table by the chair and slowly pulled off her coat. The book wasn’t very thick. It wouldn’t take her long to get through it, she was sure. When she was finally comfortable in Maggie’s reading chair, she picked up the book and opened the cover. Energy emanated from the pages within and Brigit closed her eyes. She had never been one to really believe in magic, but she had the instinct that this book – despite its purpose – was indeed filled with a magic she would never be able to define. Finally, she opened her eyes again and steeled herself against the silliness her imagination was threatening to begin with the thought of magic being real. It was best to get this over with so she could return to Maggie’s side. Her eyes skimmed the handwritten title: The Rules to Reaping Souls, by: Araxius Herodotus, Reaper.
Slowly, Brigit turned to the first page.
Rule #1: The Purpose of a Reaper:
The purpose of a Reaper is to collect the souls of the deceased. Such souls are to be escorted to their judgments without delay. We are not the judge, merely the messenger and/or escort. A Reaper is firm and collected and can not be swayed from the assigned task of assisting the soul to the door to their fate. A soul’s fate is determined by the events of their lives from the first moment breath was drawn on the mortal plane. A good life will be rewarded with the appearance of a door to the Reaper’s left side. Evil shall be rewarded with the appearance of the door to the right. Only the Reaper assigned to the task can open these doors. In the event that the soul refuses to enter and face their fate, it is the Reaper’s duty to complete their journey by any and all necessary means. It is required that all Reapers wish the soul ‘eternal peace’ before passing them through the door.
Brigit read the words carefully, letting them sink in as she turned to the second page.
Rule #2:A Reaper Shall Not Subscribe to Any Ideology
As a Reaper, any ideology subscribed to will not be tolerated. We are messengers for a power greater than ourselves and we can not allow any one name or tenet to be placed on that which is beyond our true understanding. All belief systems must be shed and an open mind must be kept in carrying out the task assigned to you. In the effort to reduce offence to those souls still maintaining the belief they had during their mortal days, it is in the best interest of the firm to not have any belief at all. No matter the faith the assigned soul claimed to during their mortal existence, the requirement to wish them ‘eternal peace’ must be carried out before passing the soul through the door that is their reward.
Brigit could see the sense in that rule. It would be an easy one to follow as she had never really subscribed to any faith to begin with. She had always agreed that there was a power out there greater than her self. It was just easier to accept that notion than all the rules and regulations that no one, in her opinion, seemed to follow anyway. Finally, she turned to the third page.
Rule#3:A Reaper Shall Not Pass Their Own
It is in strict accordance to this rule that a Reaper must abide. Under no circumstances may a Reaper open the door for one of their own blood or endearment. This includes: wives, husbands, lovers, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, grandparents, parents or any relative that can be listed on a family tree. A Reaper unrelated must be assigned the task of passing any relatives to their reward. In the event that an unrelated Reaper is unavailable, the task must be put on hold until such a time that it can be completed by said unrelated Reaper. There will be no exceptions to this rule – ever.
Brigit reread the rule again as she felt a spasm of fear begin to roil in her gut. She couldn’t fathom not being present when Maggie’s time came. Surely there had to be an exception – a loophole—somewhere. She looked up from the book in her hands down the hall to the darkness where Maggie was sleeping. If this particular rule was set in stone, Maggie would definitely never know that Brigit had kept her promise. A panic began to rise in Brigit’s gut. She had to find the loophole, no matter what the consequences of it might be.
Pushing her panic aside, Brigit turned the page and continued reading.
Traveling to the Reapee
Once you have fully understood your role as a Reaper, you will be allowed to begin completing your assignments as they are assigned. Portfolios will be handed out at the beginning of each work week. Under ideal conditions, the work load will be evenly dispersed amongst all field agents for completion. Since Death is a constant force in the mortal plane, there will always be an assignment to be completed.
The portfolio is the history of the soul that is to be passed. In it, every second of their mortal existence will be recorded. Read the portfolio carefully before traveling to the Reapee. This will expedite the process of passage once you have arrived at their locale.
To travel to the Reapee, look to see where they drew last breath. There, you will find them waiting their fate. From the main office, simply state the location before stepping outside. On the other side of the door will be the place you have been assigned to complete your task. Main doorways maybe used as portals to the next assignment to be completed or to return to the main office at any given time. Any and all questions regarding this topic should be directed to your mentor immediately.
Slowly, s
he closed the book and returned it to the table beside the chair. The rules were simple, if not agreeable. Travel to assignments seemed easy to understand. There were three more pages to read, but Brigit was done for now. John would show her the rest of what she needed to know. The third rule was still echoing in her mind in a voice that she didn’t like.
Silently, she stood and slowly returned to the bedroom. Maggie was still sleeping peacefully. Carefully, Brigit lay on the bed and curled herself around Maggie. She could feel Maggie’s warmth against her body and she focused on it to quiet the voice that was repeating rule number three over and over in her mind. Though she was sure it was more out of habit than actually feeling Brigit’s presence behind her, Maggie sighed deeply and pushed herself in closer to Brigit. There was no sign of a shiver that so often ran through Maggie when Brigit touched her. In fact, the warmth between them seemed to intensify as Brigit carefully wrapped an arm around Maggie’s waist and held her tight. Every reason to find the loophole to rule number three was curled against her and Brigit became determined to find it – no matter what the cost.
7: Training Day
Brigit arrived at 666 ½ Bleecker Street shortly after sunrise. Maggie had left the apartment early to make sure she made it to her first day back to work on time. Mama Dee had tried to persuade Maggie to wait another week; but Maggie had resisted the notion with the argument that it was only for a week. Thanksgiving Break was the following week and she would have a few days to rest up before enduring another month of teaching before the Christmas Break came around. Brigit had followed her partner out of the apartment and once they hit the sidewalk, they went their separate ways for the day.
666 ½ Bleecker Street was a thin door nestled between 666 and 668 Bleecker Street. As Brigit stood in front of it, she searched her memory in an effort to see whether it had been there before her accident. She couldn’t remember seeing it at all. Yet, Bleecker Street was not a neighborhood that she had really frequented during her life. Any memory, if it existed, would have been brief and most likely forgotten.
Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross Page 5