“Not bad. May I?” She pointed at the futon. I nodded. She slowly took a seat with a grace I had seen only in Miss America pageants. I had a couple of folding chairs by a wall, but I was too shocked to move.
“Are you here to kill me?” I found the courage to ask.
Death raised an eyebrow and analyzed me. “Sorry, dear, I’m not in the killing business. I’m more in the delivery one. So, no, I’m here because we have some business to attend to.”
I was totally lost. What did “delivery business” mean, and why did I have business with Death?
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I’m not following you.” Nobody could accuse me of not being polite. I was feeling pretty brave. I had spoken a whole sentence to Death.
“Do you remember Brooklyn, March ninth?”
Was she serious? I was so dead. This was getting worse by the minute.
“Unfortunately, I can’t forget it.” There was no need to lie to this woman—or being, or whatever she was. I’d had an ongoing countdown in my head starting on that day. It had been six months and six days exactly.
“Good. Tell me what happened.” She leaned back and waited. I wasn’t sure she was breathing.
“Excuse me? What?” The horror on my face was probably showing, because Death smiled very gently at me.
“Relax, dear. I want to hear your side of the story. So start from the moment you got to the party. And try not to leave anything out, OK?” The voice was soothing but firm. She was leaving no room for interpretation. She wanted the truth, and she wanted it now. I took a breath and then exhaled.
“My friend Tamara invited me to a party at one of her friend’s. I was planning to leave the following week. I wasn’t adjusting and couldn’t find work. I was planning a road trip. Tamara was one of the few friends I had made up there, and she actually wanted me to stay. I’d been out of the military for almost two months at the time, and I was already miserable. We made it to the party around ten p.m., and the place was packed. It was on the seventh floor of an apartment building in Brooklyn. The residents had moved out but hadn’t turned in the keys.
“The music was loud, and you couldn’t walk without brushing against people. Couples were making out everywhere. The smell of weed was thick in the air, and everyone looked drunk. I found myself getting sweaty hands. My heart rate increased, and I knew I was having a panic attack. I was feeling claustrophobic, and my senses were in overdrive. I had lost Tamara as soon as we walked in. I tried to head toward the door, but people kept grabbing and pulling at my clothes.
“I eventually made my way to the back and found a fire escape. I just wanted to get some fresh air before I broke down in the middle of the crowd. I swear I never meant to hurt anyone.” I had never told that story to anyone. My palms were sweating again, and tears were rolling down my cheeks.
“What happened next?” Death was so still, it was overwhelming. I wasn’t sure why she’d asked; by the look on her face, she already knew the answer.
“The window was open, so I climbed out. Unfortunately, when I was trying to get up, I accidentally knocked someone down. It all happened so fast. At the time I had no idea what I pushed. I tried to catch it. It was followed by a loud scream. By the time I made it to the ledge, there was a body on the ground. Please believe me; it was an accident. I went back inside and rushed back down. I wasn’t sure how safe the fire escape was. The apartment was even more crowded. It took me longer than I expected to get down. When I got to the street, the body was gone.” I was nervous. I knew I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop talking or crying. I was trying to calm down while Death continued analyzing me. “Is he dead?”
“Unfortunately, dear, yes he is. No human can survive a fall like that. And he is the reason I’m here.” Death shifted her body. I had the full weight of her stare on me. “The young man you killed was my intern.”
“Your what?” I was grateful I was standing, because I was getting ready to bolt for the door.
“Relax, Isis, and please sit down before you faint.” The statement was more of an order than a suggestion. Her demeanor was strong, and I felt as if I were in Death’s house instead of mine. I pulled up one of the folding chairs and dropped myself down. This was so bad, it was hurting my head.
“So are you here to take revenge for your intern?” That was all I was able to say very softly.
“I told you already, I’m not here to kill you.” Death was getting annoyed. I could tell, but I wasn’t sure what to say.
“There are things worse than death.” I had heard stories of pure damnation.
“That is very true, dear. Hopefully, my proposal won’t sound that bad.” Death took a breath, not because she needed it but more for emphasis. “With the loss of my intern, I’m in need of a new one. Since you killed him, the job is now yours.”
“Say what? What job? Wait. What are you talking about?”
Death actually smiled at me. She probably was thinking I was mentally challenged. “The rules are simple, dear. You kill my intern, and in turn you take his place. That is, if I find you an acceptable candidate. You passed.”
I was starting to feel like Tim Allen in The Santa Clause. Granted, I was sure Tim had a much better deal than mine.
“Rules? Who makes these rules? This is nuts.” I was yelling and pacing in front of Death.
