Long Live Death: Welcome To The Afterlife

by Mercott, Joshua

  “I’m glad you had a good time freshening up, sir,” he said and I had a feeling he knew the budget limitations courtiers had. “I picked out this suit for you, and it’s yours. Compliments of the Baron and Baroness Von Heisen.”

  “Eeep, a new suit and from the Von Heisens no less.” I couldn’t control my elation. It’s not everyday I get rich gifts from vampiric nobility and the black-vested dark-gray marvel with a midnight tie and gold cuff links was fifty lifetime’s worth of work and it was sitting on the bed, all mine. I’ve always loved suits, just couldn’t afford them. I let the batler help me change. I knew it was his job and so didn’t want to appear rude by telling him I’ll do it myself. He smiled when he saw I was happy. “Do we get to see the Von Heisens now? I need to know who I’m going to start talking to. This file is long overdue at government.”

  “Sir, the baron and baroness don’t want anything to do with politics. Last night was recreation but this morning they gave me specifics to share with you. No offence to your station, Reincarnator Helidon, but the Von Heisens never did like His Majesty King Death. You see, ever since Count Dracula went missing he didn’t bother to search for his soul. Rumor has it that Death personally reincarnated the man, though for what rhyme or reason he hasn’t divulged to the family.”

  “Why? And how?”

  “Why is anybody’s guess. Whatever the King wants the King gets. There’s nobody who can stand up to him. His word is law. Why Dracula went to see him and what became of the young count after, nobody knows. We can’t harass Death for answers, now can we?” He sounded genuinely upset. He must have liked the young Count. Pity he didn’t know the count’s bloodthirsty deeds that I’d read about on Earth. I didn’t wish to remind him of them. Different generations, different opinions.

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  “Anyway, sir, I hope you can keep my unprofessional outburst in your confidence.”

  “Of course, Jacob. Nobody thinks highly of the King.”

  “Just his power.”

  I nodded at his clever observation. “What do you have for me?”

  “There’s this interesting case I’m sure you’d like to look into, sir. I picked it out myself.”

  “I’m certain it will make for a good preliminary report, Jacob. Thank you. Is the person in question living at the castle?”

  “She works in the kitchens, sir. She’s ready to receive you. If you’ll follow me.”

  We descended six flights of steps and then lower to where the kitchens were. The outside was ordinary, by Von Heisen standards, but the kitchens themselves were something to reckon with. State of the art technology on a scale that only ten five-star hotels combined could’ve been able to afford let alone maintain. I think they gave half the populace of Quadrant City a job, there were so many life-forms working in here. It was loud, it was worse than the city at rush hour. Horses and cars together wouldn’t have made as much noise as the gabbing crowd of food-makers and their equipment in this white-tiled chef express of a kitchen.

  “Are all of them...?”

  “They’re souls from different quadrants, sir.”

  “No vampires?” I sighed with relief and didn’t know why. After the party last night where everyone was kind to me, I liked vampires. But I wasn’t so sure my reception would’ve been warm if I were anyone but the Reincarnator.

  “Don’t worry, no vampires here. Except the chef.” He said that last part quickly as if he didn’t even want to share it.

  “I smell something different in my kitchen. Who let the badookshas in?” The woman behind the thick Russian accent walked into view from behind a steaming set of stoves. Not only was she as tall as a door she was so large I wondered how she moved around so fast. One second she was here, the next she disappeared in a puff of black smoke and appeared somewhere else in the maze of kitchens she called her lair. Oh, so that’s how she does it.

  “Reincarnator Helidon, meet Natalya Dunayevsky, vampire-chef extraordinaire and family to the Von Heisens.”

  “An honor, my lady.”

  She scoffed as she puffed into view and blocked the light. Her eyes were electric blue and she had on a white lace apron with gold trimmings. She wore no jewelry and her tattoed arms had a more masculine muscle tone than I’d expected. Her voice was matronly, almost royal, and it made me bow when she addressed me.

  “A lady? I haven’t been called that in a long time. We are getting tea ready for the family. What do you want Reincarnator Helidon? Does His Majesty need a special dish made again, hm?”

  “Er,” said Jacob and it was the first time I heard him ‘er’. “Madame, Helidon is scheduled to interview Carina Jelva. He isn’t briefed on His Majesty’s special requests.” He gave an awkward expression.

  “I see,” said Natalya and glowered at me. “Take him to the antechamber. CARINA!” I practically cringed, her voice was that loud. “I will bring you breakfast, da?”

  “That wouldn’t be necessary. I’m not hungry.”

  “Nonsense, Reincarnator Helidon,” she pronounced my name funny, “I can smell your emptiness. There shall be no vacant bellies in my kitchen.” She puffed away into another part of the kitchen and Jacob led me to one side and into a room.

  I sat in the musty space that looked like it could with some serious dusting. The air was thick and discomfiting. “You take care, sir. Please use the telephone to call upstairs and I shall come collect you.”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  After he’d gone, I searched for the phone and it hung on the wall behind a cocoon of cobwebs.

  I drummed my fingers on the table and made a nice clean patch there by the time Carina showed.

  “I apologize for keeping you waiting, Reincarnator, sir,” she was flustered. Her clothes looked like a patchwork of rags and her hair was so slipshod I thought she’d cut it herself, in a hurry, without a mirror. The woman was poverty itself. As she stood at the threshold to this dust-friendly room, it only seemed to enhance that image. “Sir, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to meet you. You caught me in the middle of dishes. I had to finish or Madama Dunayevsky will not have been happy.”

  “I understand. Do have a seat, Carina.” As she adjusted her clothes and patted her hair I couldn’t help but wonder why she and Jacob addressed the chef as if they would a Frenchwoman when everything else about her was clearly Russian. Mixed parentage sprang to mind.

  “I feel so lucky that you picked me of all people. Sir, this is more than an honor.” She tried her best to hide a full-fledged smile.

  “I’m no celebrity, Mrs. Jelva. I read your file again while I waited. Batler Jacob picked you out for me. Let me make it clear that I am here purely to work on understanding suicide rates among the living who are now dead, of which you are one. What I’m saying is—”

  “Please sir,” she said with a quivering lip. “I have noone else to talk to. Since I don’t pay taxes and since I can’t afford the form fee, any chance at requisitions are out the window. It was destiny that brought you here, sir. I know I am nobody to impose on your time but just one minute is all I need and I’ll do anything you ask of me. Please, Mr. Reincarnator, sir.”

  “Call me Helidon,” I sighed. I didn’t know how to say no. I motioned her to the chair. She plomped into the padded seat and a cloud of dust went up. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

  “Sir, you know I took my own life. I’m sure the file says that and more about how it all happened. But I felt it best you hear it from me. It was so hard, sir. My life was so very hard.” She didn’t sound as fake as some others I’d spoken to during my time as Reincarnator. She sounded so sincere that I couldn’t find it in me to stop her and say ‘Tell me something I don’t know’, so I went on listening instead. “You don’t know how it was, sir. I still carry the pain. He left us, my husband left us, me and my little girl. He took all our money, the money we saved up working so hard together, saying we’ll find a way to put our little girl through seamstress school and send her to Italy
where French weaving skills were much sought after at the time. She’d have earned so much, our clever little girl. She was nary three years old and already she showed promise. Her first word was ‘hem’ and she was drawn to knitting balls more than dolls. He ran away, my husband ran away with all our money.” She was tearing up now, salty fluid running down her cheeks. She did a bad job of dabbing at them. I knew the way this worked. I’d been through such moments before when people told me why they did what they did and how they needed fair treatment to be reincarnated again so they had a second chance at life.

  “Do you know how it feels, sir, to wake up one morning and find that the person you trusted most has left you without a word and you see that you have a three-year old to feed and you can’t find money anywhere to purchase milk for her?” Her voice had fallen into the cryptic range where I couldn’t make out what she said. She stopped, took a few chugs by way of breathing and continued. “That’s why I did what I did, sir. I couldn’t keep a roof over our heads with only one job. I was willing to work two jobs, sir, but I knew nobody who’d take care of my baby. The first job had a care center, part of the benefits package, you see.” She whimpered some more. “I wanted to kill myself but I could’t leave my baby behind. It wasn’t her fault. I know the rules, I’ve been here long enough to understand the category system. I took an innocent’s life but, based on soul energymetrics, she too would be considered part of the act. She would be categorized a suicide too, my poor little Maria. But, sir,” she bawled and cried in earnest, “I’ll work as much as I can now that I am a soul and cannot die. I’ll be here for all of eternity and work anywhere His Majesty wants me to in all of Quadrant City if I can only have my baby girl be free. Please help her get the chance that her father and then I robbed her of. Maria doesn’t belong here, sir, this is not a life for her. She is still an infant soul and can be reincarnated faster than any adoldescent, adult or old person. She can have a chance at no great energy-loss to our King. Please, sir, she of all people deserves to be reincarnated. She has been so unjustly treated and she has yet to even know it.” The woman was on her knees, her head bent with the weight of her tears.

  I knew I should be tough. Death had given me the speech once. I’m sure he’d give it to me again only I hoped it wouldn’t go the same way as his outburst earlier. He was prone to mood shifts when least expected. But still, this woman had more credence than most because she wanted justice for another soul and not her own. This might, just might, be approved by His Majesty. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said and tears, this time of joy, filled her eyes and fell on my pants because she’d grabbed hold of them near my shoes and wept. “Please, Carina, I haven’t done anything yet. Remember that my word isn’t law, that’s His Majesty the King. I will take this case to him but that’s the best I can do for you.”

  “Thank you, sir, thank you thank you thank you. You have done more for me than anyone else. You did more when you even chose to listen. I am forever in your debt.”

  “Mrs. Jelva, calm down. Breathe. We’re all forever in Death’s debt. I suggest you get back to work and wait. I’ll contact you if I have an answer.”

  I helped her up to her feet and she left the room, still sobbing. I held the door open for her and when I was about to exit the room myself, a huge arm shot through carrying a tray topped with eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice, strawberries, blueberries, muffins, milk, pie and cake.

  “Eat!” ordered Chef Natalya Dunayevsky.

  I took the tray from her and said thank you. “Cake? For breakfast?”

  “A fun breakfast is a healthy breakfast. But no matter. The energy is in your head.”

  She made no sense to me but cake was cake and I didn’t complain. I ate on the dusty table and tried not to raise any particles from the objects around me. After the most scrumptious breakfast I’ve ever had, I reached for the phone on the wall. I couldn’t find anything small enough to push the cobwebs aside so I took the fork I’d used to gobble the triple-layered Swiss chocolate slice and used it to noodle the webs. I saw there was only one button on the pad, which I guessed connected Batler Jacob. I kept my ear away from the receiver because it was so thick with dust but not too far that I couldn’t hear.

  “I’ll be right down, sir,” Jacob said as soon as the first ring went through. He must have been expecting my call.

  “I sat in that small room admiring the tray and all its contents. They were polished to a fault and I could see a distorted reflection of myself in some of the larger pieces. I tried lifting the tray. It was lighter than when I’d received it from the chef, obviously. I tested the difference because I was confused how Natalya carried it in one arm and moved it toward me without spilling a drop of orange juice or shaking off the chocolate swirl on the cake slice. Vampire, I reminded myself.

  “Ready to go, sir?” said Jacob after he made a silent entry. “Oh, you can leave that there. Someone will come pick it up momentarily.”

  I followed him out into a surprisingly empty kitchen. “They’ve retired for breakfast,” Jacob clarified. I followed him up one flight and then to the entrance where my adventure had begun.

  “Has it just been one day?”

  He chuckled. “I understand how you feel, sir.”

  “I have a good case to start with and the benefits have been sublime. Please convey my gratitude to the Baron and Baroness.”

  “I will indeed, sir.” He gave a short bow and ushered me outside. Down on the circular driveway was a train of horses, ten of them with five on each side and connected to a garishly decorated carriage of gold that had banners embroiderd with the Von Heisen family crest. The horses were as black as an unexplored cave and when the sun hit them they seemed purple. “Your transport, sir. It will take you to the harbor.”

  “The harbor? I need to be at government building alpha.”

  “We received a memo from government to send the Reincarnator to meet with His Majesty at the Imperial Harbor, sir.”

  “I didn’t get the memo.”

  “The memo was from King Death’s secretary, sir, and it mentioned, if memory serves, ‘when Helidon realizes that he hasn’t gotten the memo, kindly be sure to inform him that it is his job to go to the memo and not the memo to come to him’.” Jacob gave me an apologetic expression.

  “I best get started.” I was quite embarassed but what could I do.

  “Your meeting with the woman Carina went on for slightly longer than expected, sir. I wanted to call but felt it would get in the way of your work.”

  “What do you mean, Jacob?”

  He walked fast and bade me do the same. He cooed, “Come come come come come come come,” as he guided me down the steps to the waiting carriage. “The time on the memo was precise. And you, sir, are late.”

  I could understand why they gave me a carriage with ten horses. As I waved goodbye to Batler Jacob I felt Death wouldn’t be showing me as much consideration. He hated unpunctual souls. As the carriage rocked and rolled, all I could feel after a while was the monotonous lullaby of crunching stone, wooden carriage movement and puffing horses. It got to my senses and my lack of sleep made strange shifting weights appear inside me. My lids closed of their own accord but my arms were held steady. My body slumped but my neck didn’t. My hips wanted to go horizontal on the padded leather seats but my feet were planted firmly on the carriage floor. I was dazed and dozy but managed to stave off sleep because of where I was headed and who awaited me there.

  7

  It was sunny outside and I could open the windows. The breeze showered me with kisses. It was better than the cold slap of rain or the uneasy heatwave yesterday. This was just right. If there was any reason I didn’t like the breeze it would be because it made me feel sleepy. I shouldn’t sleep, I had to be alert. I took a look at myself in the small mirror on the inside of the carriage. Except for a slight reddish-pink swelling under both eyes, I was clean-shaven and well dressed courtesy the Von Heisens. I needed to maintain this image for as long as I could, beca
use it wasn’t going to get any better.

  I don’t remember seeing the driver get on top of the carriage to ride it from his customary seat. The magnificent horses were so much in the forefront of my memory that I jumped when I heard the driver shout ‘Yaaa!’ and strangely the horses started to slow down. The smell of salt in the air and the way the breeze felt mildly rough against my skin told me we’d arrived. Instead of letting me off at some discreet distance, the driver rode right onto the main square and made quite an entrance. I was debating whether to get down from the carriage or pretend I’d fallen dead inside of some unknown cause. It was so awkward I felt pinpricks under my feet and fingernails. What orders was this crazy man given to dare something like this, making an ordinary Reincarnator make such an entry, in the presence of King Death no less?

  He stopped with a screeching skid. If the fast ride through the square didn’t catch everyone’s attention the screech sure did the trick. I got down onto sunbathed stones while a wash of gazes studied me. All three hundred forty-nine courtiers were in the square, on a raised podium angled toward the vast wharf and unblemished ocean beyond. On a sharp-edged throne with talons for feet and silk for padding, with one exact half of the throne in ivory and the other half in obsidian, sat His Majesty. I wanted to shrug and point at the driver, to tell the King in no uncertain terms that this was in no way my plan, intention or idea. I wanted to slap the driver on the back of his head and give a good slap to each of the ten horses for this blatant disregard of etiquette in such a potent presence. Alas the words of Death himself rang through my head. ‘Helidon, when in doubt just shut up and put on a performance.’

  Something seemed to take over my body and knew exactly where the strings were. I smiled at the crowd and waved, I made a showy turn, faced the King and gave a crisp bow. The thing that possessed me had learned how to use my voice and it said loudly, “Long live His Majesty the King. Long live Death.” The entire square thrummed with a chorus of synchronized voices who echoed my words and bowed to the King. I’m not sure what to make of his strange head, outlandish wings and barely humanoid image but I think His Majesty may have either smiled, frowned or grimaced.