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Cashing In
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Cashing In
Britt DeLaney
Copyright 2014 Britt DeLaney
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Cashing In
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Cashing In
She found him playing pinball in the shabby arcade inside what used to be a bustling mall. It was half-closed down now, stores boarded up and bankrupt, and rumor had it the Mall was on its last legs.
It figures, she thought.
There was still something of a food court - a McDonald's and two sandwich places next to a few chipped tables and graffiti-spattered chairs. She could see people talking over milkshakes and Happy Meals from her vantage point near the change machine. Oblivious. The world was oblivious.
She, however, was not.
She approached him casually, sidling up next to him as if she were watching his game. He glanced at her briefly, then his gaze returned with interest. Ten years ago, she would have mistaken that for something sexual, but now there was little chance of that. Not the way she looked. She was wan, her skin tone grey-ish, and she was somewhat emaciated. Her head was wrapped in a bandana that made the bones of her face stand out in even sharper relief than usual.
"Hello," he said, returning his eyes to the game. His voice was a bit wary.
"I've been looking for you."
"Oh?" She had his full attention now. "You have, have you?"
She felt his eyes boring into her, but she didn't flinch.
"I know who you are. And I'm ready."
He gave her a sideways glance. "No one's ready. Not like they think they are."
"I am."
"And you think you know who I am?
"Yes," she said, simply. "You're Death."
###
He motioned her out into the food court, gesturing her to keep her voice down.
"How did you find me?"
"I've seen you before,” she explained, “You're...’dark’ is the best word, I guess. I saw you first at a movie theater. Then again down by the hospital as I was driving home. It's like you're dimmer than everyone around you."
"And you knew I was Death from that?" He looked skeptical.
"I had a great aunt who described you to me once. I was very young and everyone thought she was delirious, but I believed her."
"Hmmph," said Death. "You want some fries? No? Well, I'm starving. Buy me some fries and a Dr. Pepper, and we'll talk.”
She did as she was told, and they slid into chairs at a dirty table. Death munched a few fries, waiting expectantly for the woman to tell her story.
"I'm surprised you're not busy," she said. "Doesn't Death have a lot to do?"
"You keep talking about me like I'm The Death. I'm not, you know. There is no one ‘Death’. I happen to be your death, as well as death to a few hundred others.” He paused a moment to stuff a few more fries in his mouth. “I've been shadowing you, of course,” he finally continued. “But your time isn't here. You've got a good few months left, by the looks of you. Why the rush?"
She looked away a moment. "I want to die on my own terms. And I want to die alone."
"Everyone dies alone. Even if someone's holding your hand, when I get there, you're going it alone from that point.” He swirled a fry in a pool of ketchup. “I gather you don't want to be a burden."
"Something like that."
"You don't get to decide, you know."
"I know,” she answered quietly. “I'm asking a favor."
Death chewed for a bit longer, taking a long pull on his soda. "Well...I guess it's the least I can do since you bought me a Dr. Pepper. You're close enough, I suppose. Do you want to go here, or should I take you home first?"
"Here is fine, if it's OK with you. The sooner the better."
"Wait a minute – “he studied her closely. “You're not doing this for personal gain, are you? Your family won't get double your insurance policy or something if you go now, will it?"
She shook her head. "No. No extra money. I promise." Her hand tightened, and he noticed her reaction. His eyes moved down to the clenched fist she held in her lap.
"What have you got there? You can't take it with you, you know."
"It's just a rock."
"A rock?”
"Yes."
He waited for her explanation, munching a bit more. When he finally realized that was all she intended to say, he shoved the last of the fries in his mouth. He finished the Dr. Pepper with a slurping sound, then stood and held out his hand.
"Let's go. And no secret last messages or hysterical death scenes, please. Let's keep this neat."
"Neat is fine."
She reached out for him, her hand shaking a bit as she realized this was it. His eyes softened.
"It's going to be all right, you know,” he reassured. “Lots of nice stuff on the other side. You'll like it. Reunited with loved ones, all your memories intact....nice. Really."
"Do you promise?" she asked.
"I promise."
"Swear to me." she said, her eyes fierce.
"I'm Death. Serious as a heart attack." He cracked a smile, then raised his eyebrows as if to indicate that he wouldn't be waiting forever. She took his hand.
Swirling.
The taste of lemon, bursting on her tongue. Clean sheets, crisp beneath her as the sun streamed in the window. Arms around her. Raindrops, hitting her face as the boy squealed with laughter. Tossing rocks in a puddle and pretending they were pirate ships as the rain fell and they played in spite of it.
Gone.