Death's Realm, the Sunless Lands
Jamie turned over sleepily. The movement caused the fluffy pink comforter to slide off his bed and onto the floor. He sat up slowly, realization and memory filling his mind and waking him up all the way. There was none of the muzzy-headed confusion that dominated his usual waking moments back on Earth. In Death's realm, it seemed you knew who you were and where you were at all times. Jamie leaned back and enjoyed the feel of the sun (or at least light and warmth) on his face for a moment.
His host kept a really nice guest room. It managed to avoid the assembled-direct-from-Ikea look. The walls were painted a cheery yellow and the curtains billowed slightly from the breeze whistling in through the open window. A blue and white vase of fat yellow daffodils stood on a shelf against the far wall. They were freshly picked, sitting in water and looked identical to some of the flowers that he could see growing on the hills outside his window.
Jamie wandered out of his room and onto the landing, yawning and running his hands through his rumpled hair. All he had on were his striped boxers, the rest of his clothes were lying in a corner of his room. Sometime late last night, after he'd finished mourning for his family, he'd apparently undressed and went to bed. He couldn't exactly remember doing that, but he remembered that the night seemed extremely long, stretching for as long as he needed to give vent to his emotions. When he had finished, he felt cleansed. Hollowed out, but healed.
"Good morning," called Death from the kitchen. She was sitting at the dining table with a steaming mug of coffee. She was wearing tight leather pants, a short black leather jacket with long sleeves and a midriff-cutoff top that revealed her exquisitely toned abs. Jamie took just a little too long before saying good morning in return.
"You slept in longer than I thought," Death remarked, taking in the sight of Jamie's nearly bare body with an inscrutable expression. "The bathroom's straight ahead. You'll find new clothes in the wardrobe in your room."
"You got new clothes for me? Thank you," said Jamie, who was touched. So far, she had already done more for him than anyone outside his immediate family ever had.
Death shrugged her shoulders. "You're welcome. You'd look pretty silly wearing some of my stuff. I hope you like black though."
"I love it," Jamie called from the bathroom. He'd gotten into the shower, which was a single person affair with a sliding glass door. "At least, I used to love it. There was a time when I wore black every single day."
"What happened?"
"I grew up!" he laughed, turning on the water. Death kept a surprisingly ordinary looking bathroom, if a little too fond of scented bath oils and lotions. Jamie soaked himself under the roaring spray for a good long time and shaved with what looked like a newly procured razor before wrapping himself in a towel (black) and returning to his room to check out his wardrobe.
Death had good taste, Jamie had to admit. He could choose from a variety of outfits, none of which were too showy or really unflattering. Jamie settled on a black cotton pullover and jeans combination and went downstairs to join her at the table.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, sipping her coffee.
Jamie thought about it before replying. He suspected a frivolous answer would not impress her, and he wanted badly to do just that.
"Actually, I'm not hungry at all, although I still feel like I should be eating something."
"Force of habit, Jamie. Residual memory. Phantom longings, whatever you choose to call them. You don't need to eat because you're not alive. No matter how much you feel like you are, you're not. You have to remember this, Jamie. It's important."
"Yeah. Okay," he said, not entirely enthusiastic with what she seemed to be telling him. "What about you? You're not alive either, and you're drinking coffee."
"I'm not a mortal. I happen to be the anthropomorphic personification of a fundamental force of the universe, and I can do pretty much whatever I want. And right now, I want a nice cuppa."
Jamie had nothing to say to that.
"All right Jamie, if you're going to work with me, there are certain rules you have to follow. You must obey my instructions to the letter, or I haul you off to your official afterlife without another word. Do you agree?" said Death, suddenly becoming all business-like.
"Yes. I do."
"Good. I'll teach you to how to do my job, bit by bit. Maybe one day you can take over for me for a while, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. The important thing to remember is that it's an important job. I don't need to impress upon you how crucial my responsibilities are. In this line of work, the number one rule is the same as it is on Earth. Have respect for who you are dealing with. Remember, it's not any harder to be nice than it is to be nasty."
"Really?"
"Trust me. It's not. A lot of the people we're going to see are not going to be pleased to meet us at all. In fact every day we meet people on the worst day of their lives. We're going to help them to cross over, but there's no reason not to make the transition as smooth and as painless as possible. Do you understand me?"
"You watch CSI?"
"Jamie!"
"Okay, okay. Yeah, I get you. In fact I wish more people back on Earth have heard of your rule one. It might have made things a little easier."
"Well maybe. There are other things we need to discuss but this is the most important one. I'll address the others as and when they come up."
"You got it, boss."
"Boss? Nevermind...we've got a lot of work to do today, Jamie. You're going to accompany me on one of my rounds. We'd better keep just to Earth for the time being. It's going to be hectic, but you'll be with me all the time."
"I'm used to hard work," Jamie said, remembering his long shifts at the boxing ring and the comic book store. They had left the house and were walking outside in the grass. It was another beautiful day. Jamie wondered vaguely if it ever rained in Death's realm, and decided that it didn't matter."
"This isn't your usual nine-to-five. Or even your six-to-eight. In a certain kind of way, one which you'll learn later, I'm always on the job. I always have something to do. That's my responsibility, something which you'll also need to keep in mind."
She came to a stop at the same hillock where she and Jamie had landed yesterday and prepared to open the door between the worlds.
"All right. Let's go to work."
"Right behind you."
He held her hand, which felt as smooth as he remembered. Jamie recalled the freezing cold, and tried to brace himself for the shock of moving between the worlds. Without a word Death flicked her other hand and Jamie was once again clothed in the same velvety darkness that had shrouded him the last time.
"Can I learn how to do that?"
"I'll teach it to you, I promise."
With absolutely no sound or ceremony, the pair disappeared.
Canada
Earth
Jamie emerged a moment later in a dark bedroom. Soft toys were scattered about everywhere, a mess of papers and pencils covered a little writing desk. A nightlight stood on a low cabinet, illuminating a small girl tucked under her blankets with a soft orange glow. She was cuddling a large stuffed crocodile and couldn't have been more than seven years old. Death was leaning against a wardrobe, looking at the little girl.
"Who is she?"
"Jenny McKenzie," Death said quickly. "Daughter of Art McKenzie and Maya Malik. She has leukemia, poor girl. Her parents are trying everything they can to give her a fighting chance, but it still doesn't look good."
Jamie was speechless for a while. Jenny shifted, turning her head a little. The nightlight revealed a pretty little face framed by soft black hair, but one that had been aged years by her battle with the disease.
"And we're here to…you mean I have to…"
Death looked puzzled, and then brightened as realization hit her.
"Oh no! No, it's not her time yet."
"But the leukemia…if it's not her time, why are we even here?"
Death pointed to a corner of the room. A colourful plastic cage occupied the space, with tunnels entwined here and there like burrowing worms. It was lined with a mix of wood shavings and shredded tissue paper and kept remarkably neat. A small dark ball of fur was lying curled up beneath the spout of the cage's water bottle. It wasn't moving.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…" muttered Jamie. Death ignored him and knelt down beside the cage. She seemed to be waiting for something. Jamie squatted down next to her and looked around. The little bedroom was still and completely silent, save for the sound of Jenny's breathing.
He was just about to say something when Death laid a hand on his arm and pointed. A small grey hamster was sniffling around at the foot of Jenny's bed. Its fur was the exact shade of grey as the motionless ball in the cage itself. As Jamie watched, the hamster made its way to where Death was kneeling. It sat up on its haunches and cleaned itself thoroughly, washing its face, nose and ears twice. Jeff had a hamster once, Jamie recalled. Jeff loved the cute little rodent, played with it all the time until it managed to escape and was eaten by Joey's cat. Jamie had watched with interest as his little brother tried to kill his 240 pound older brother.
Death reached out and stroked the hamster gently. "Hi there little guy," she said softly.
The hamster looked up at her. "Good evening, madam. I've been expecting you for quite some time," it said in a curiously deep voice.
"The hamster is talking, Didi," Jamie whispered out of a corner of his mouth.
"Shush, Jamie."
"But it's talking."
"And I want you to stop talking. How do you feel, Mr. Furry?"
The hamster gave Death a reproachful look, insofar as a hamster could look reproachful.
"Now ma'am, you know that's not my real name. It's just something that Miss Jenny calls me."
"You're right, of course. I do apologise, names are important things. How do you feel, Cheek?"
"Much better now ma'am, thank you for asking. I was hoping to see my third year, as humans reckon these things, but as soon as I felt the pain in my side I realized it was not to be. Still, I've had a good life. Can't complain, really. I just wish I didn't have to leave young Miss Jenny behind." The hamster turned its head to look at its owner, nose twitching. "Is she…is she going to be all right?"
"Now, Cheek. You know I can't tell you. Everybody has one story. Jenny's goes on for a good long time, but you, my brave little friend, your time has come."
"Yes, of course," said the hamster. "Do I touch your nose now?"
"Well you see Cheek, today's a bit special. I won't be helping you to cross over. My friend's going to do it for me instead."
The hamster glanced at Jamie, appearing to notice him for the first time. "Him? Who is he? He's a human!"
Jamie looked at Death. "A human? Aren't you…I mean, don't you look-?"
"She is Madame Death, sir," said the hamster, addressing Jamie. "All rodents know of the Dark Mistress, the one who will help us to cross over when their lives are ended by cat or trap or disease or old age."
"Yes, but what does she look like to you?"
"A great lady rodent, of course. Dark of fur, with eyes like two deep pools, eyes that see truth. What do you think she looks like?"
"I'll explain later, Jamie," Death said, before he could reply. "You have to help Cheek here to cross over."
"Ok, but I don't know how."
"Hold out your hand."
Jamie extended his palm towards the small grey hamster. It remained where it was, nose still twitching.
"Now, Cheek, you touch his hand."
The hamster rubbed its ear again. "Do I have to, Madam?"
"Yes, little one."
"By your will." The hamster crept forward, and nudged the tip of Jamie's finger with its tiny nose.
The instant it touched him, a host of thoughts, memories and feelings flooded Jamie's mind. In a moment, he saw everything that the hamster saw throughout its brief life, from the minute it was born in a dark warm struggling mass with eight other brothers and sisters, to the time Jenny first laid eyes on it and fell instantly in love. He saw the times when they played, the lonelier times when Jenny's illness kept her from it, the joy it felt each time Jenny felt well enough to stroke its fur and talk softly about all kinds of things.
"Now, Jamie," whispered Death behind him. "Open it up. Think of my realm, the sunless lands. Think of how it felt to cross between the worlds, to move through the planes of existence. Think of the sense of freedom, of weightlessness, the sensation of leaving the anchor of this world far behind you forever. Imagine a door opening, and step through that door."
Jamie felt a sense of space all around him, a vast void stretching away to infinity, as if the universe itself was opening up. The hamster faded, and then vanished. There was nothing left of where it had sat except for empty space.
"That was interesting," said Jamie. "Is it over?"
"Yes, it is. He's crossed over. You did a good job."
Jamie leaned against the wall and tried to steady himself. He could still see a few images of the hamster's life, fleeting past him.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? In a way?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it actually is. I never thought a little hamster could have such an interesting life."
"All life is interesting, especially in this job. Shall we move on?"
"All right."
Jamie took a last look at the bedroom, and then followed Death into nothingness.
She took him on more journeys to assist the recently dead, staying small. Jamie crossed over a few more pet hamsters, guinea pigs and the like. He crossed a group of city rats who had been poisoned, and a little songbird that had froze to death. Death didn't limit him to just mammals, though. Jamie was guided through the crossing of a flea, a pond-skater, a trout, and finally a small flower that had the misfortune to bloom in a crack of a sidewalk and was trampled over by foot-traffic. Not all of them had voices, but they understood what had happened to them all the same. One journey ended. The next one begins.
Jamie rubbed his eyes. The flower, although it had no memories, was as vibrant as any other living thing he had taken so far. Jamie had felt something akin to contentment from the flower when the sun shone, a feeling similar to sleep when the sun went down, and a hundred other sensations that was completely alien to him. How long had he spent on Earth without truly considering the miracle of photosynthesis? Flowers were just there, things you stepped over or only noticed when they cost ten dollars a stalk in a store, but his brief tenure as the reaper of lives was opening up horizons for him that he never could have dreamed of existing.
"I think we should head back," said Death finally, watching the sky. The sun was going down and the stars were beginning to show again.
"How long have we been out here?" asked Jamie, head still spinning from his last reap. He leaned against a lamp post to steady himself.
"It's kinda hard to explain properly," said Death. "It's got a lot to do with n-dimensional chronology and quantum."
"Try me," Jamie challenged. "I was pretty good at physics in school."
"All right," said Death. "You know the theory that there are multiple universes, each almost similar to its neighbour, but not quite?"
"Sure, everyone knows that. A universe where a single atom spun in a different direction or something, and that causes Hitler to win. It's always Hitler, for some reason."
"Well, it's total rubbish," she said, and had to chuckle at Jamie's confused look.
"Maybe one day I'll get it," he muttered, and followed her as she opened up another gateway between the planes and prepared to head on to the next being.
The next few weeks were more of the same. Death carefully guided Jamie through the delicate process of taking lives. She acted as though every life was equal, whether it was a tapeworm or a human, and it was this philosophy that Jamie found himself agreeing with. After all, Darwin's Theory stated that every single organism alive today was equal on an evolutionary level, no matter how simple or complex they were. Jamie was also traveling to places he never knew existed. From the highest mountain peaks to the deepest, darkest crushing depths of the abyssal oceans, Death walked and Jamie followed. For the kid who had only been out of New York a couple of times on family vacations, it was nothing short of incredible.
The Pacific Ocean
"Would you look at that?" sighed Death. They were in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, watching a whaling ship hunt down a humpback whale. Jamie's feet were hovering just inches above the rolling waves, although the foam and the spray were soaking his jeans. Wherever he looked, the sea stretched out in front of him, all the way to the horizon. There was nothing else in sight but the little ship, riding the waves from one crest to the next, following closely as the whale arrowed through the water like a torpedo. Jamie could see streaks of blood flowing from where the ship's harpoons had struck the whale and stuck into its hide.
"This is so 19th century Melville," she continued, taking a few steps forward over what looked like thin air. Although she only appeared to move a short distance, they were suddenly close to the ship once again, which had gotten quite a long way away from them. "Don't you guys know that whales are sentient?"
"They are?"
"Sure they are. Language, music, family groups and a semblance of society, traditions involving huge journeys all around the Earth, mating rituals…they're definitely self-aware."
"You know, I once dated a girl who said the same thing."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Weird girl. Really into the whole hippie thing."
"Dude, that's not very nice."
"She tried to stop me from eating meat and refused to shave her legs…" Jamie went on, and ducked as Death bent down, scooped up some water and splashed it at him.
"It's almost over," she said, watching the hunt go on. The whale was slowing down. Its blood was staining the water red and it didn't look as though it could go on much further.
"Can't we do anything?" asked Jamie, wincing as yet another harpoon struck the whale, just below its left eye.
"I'm afraid not. It's not our place to judge or to decide who gets to live and who dies. We just help them along the way. It's important you remember this, Jamie."
"Is there a judge, though? Someone who decides who lives and dies and where everybody ends up?"
"Is the answer really important?"
"I'd like to know, yes."
"So why didn't you cross over and find out?"
Jamie looked away and did not answer.
Death laughed merrily. "Forget it Jamie, I was only teasing. We have a job to finish. Do you remember everything that you need to do?"
"Yes. Make contact, make an opening, counsel the being if it needs counseling."
"Very nice. Look, the poor thing's almost done for. It's time."
"All right."
Jamie mimicked her steps and wasn't surprised to find himself moving smoothly towards the huge creature as it broke the surface of the water for a final time. It leapt into the air, and Jamie's heart went out to it. It didn't seem right that it should have to die this way.
The whale flopped back into the water and laid still, its great heart silenced at last. The whaling boat edged closer and Jamie could see the sailors celebrating at their success. He turned away from them and watched the horizon.
The shade of the whale was swimming serenely towards him. It circled its own body one final time, as if to say goodbye. Jamie stepped up next to it.
Great one, he began. The whale rolled over to look at him with one massive eye.
What are you, little one? You look like one of the creatures who sail the sea in their floating things, hunting down me and my kin. What do you want?
I was one of those kind once, but no longer. I am here to help you to cross over.
You?
The whale moved closer, looming in front of him and Jamie couldn't help but feel nervous. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Death off to one side. She gave him an encouraging nod.
Yes, great one. It is your time to leave this world and go on to whatever awaits you.
The whale didn't answer immediately. Eventually, it "spoke" again, in its own strange language that Jamie could somehow understand perfectly.
I've led a long, long life. I've swum from one land mass to the next, exploring all that the ocean has to offer. I've seen amazing things. I've had dozens of wives and many, many children. I've seen my children grow up and explore the same seas with me. I've seen the world, little one. It was good.
Jamie waited. Death had went over next to him and stood by his side. Without looking, he reached for her hand and held it. There was a tiny pause, before she grasped his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
I am ready to leave, little one. Who is your companion, by the way? She appears to be one of my people.
She is my guide, and my friend.
That is good. Friends are good. Hold on to them.
Jamie nodded. He reached out with his other hand and touched the whale's side, feeling the texture of its wet, rubbery skin. The shade of the whale, faded, and then disappeared completely. As usual, every single memory and thought that the whale ever had spilled into Jamie's mind, along with something that felt wonderfully familiar. Emotions, genuine sensations of happiness and sadness that he had not experienced from his other reapings. The whale had indeed been a thinking, feeling being.
Throughout it all, Jamie held on to Death's hand. It felt strangely comforting, her slim white hand in his, the two of them alone together the middle of the sea.
"I think it's over," he said finally. The whale's shade had moved on to wherever it was going next.
"Yes. You did a wonderful job."
"Thank you. Shall we go home now?"
"Sure."
Still holding his hand, Death opened up the portal between the worlds, and Jamie followed her home.
Death's Realm
Home, thought Jamie later, as he sat down on Death's couch with a cup of tea and watched her feed the fish. This place is really starting to feel familiar.
Jamie had changed out of his wet jeans into a pair of comfortable shorts that he had found in his room. He leaned back on the couch contentedly, sipping his tea. It was blackcurrant, and was only one of the many varieties he saw stocked in Death's kitchen. Jamie hadn't known there were so many kinds available. The window was open and the bright yellow curtains were drawn back, letting the pleasant night breeze into the house. At least, it seemed like night. It was dark outside at any rate.
"What are their names?"
"The big orange one's Slim and the little yellow one's called Wandsworth."
"Cute."
Slim and Wandsworth gobbled up their fishy flakes and swam around their bowl. Jamie watched them thoughtfully, reminded of the great humpback whale he had helped to cross over. Death was lying down on her side on the couch opposite, propping her head up with one hand. She too was staring dreamily at the goldfish bowl, a faraway look in her large dark eyes. She had changed out of her stylish clothes and was wearing a simple black t-shirt and shorts.
"Didi?"
"Hmm?" she said sleepily.
"Could you tell me why that hamster and the whale didn't see you the same way I see you now?"
Death sat up and drew her knees to her chest, hugging her shins. She didn't answer for a while. Jamie waited patiently, seeing things from her perspective. She was an immortal being of unfathomable power and immense responsibilities, while he was just a dead human from Earth. He was asking questions that had not needed answers in countless centuries. Still, he had sworn himself to her service and he was determined to show that her trust would be repaid. A little information was the least that she could give him, if he was going to do the job right.
"As you know," she began eventually, "My job doesn't limit me to just your planet. Or even your galaxy or universe. There are loads of inhabited planets with life out there, you wouldn't believe how many. Not only that, but yours is just one plane of existence. There are thousands, each more fantastic and weird and wonderful than the last. Each with their own universes and galaxies and planets."
Death watched Slim swim around a plant, twirling a lock of her hair around one finger. Jamie didn't hear an answer to his question, but he sensed that he was hearing something more important instead.
"I love my job. There's not a lot of people who can say that honestly, but I can. I was made for this job. I like meeting all the people who lived, every form of life the universe has to offer. I like talking to them, and hearing their stories. Everyone's got a story to tell. No one is insignificant."
"I don't want to come across as being whiny, but all the endless years…sometimes I get tired. Really tired. I am on the job, all the time. Even now. I'm sitting here talking to you, but some part of me is still out there, reaping lives and helping people to cross over. I never truly catch a break. I have to be the responsible one, the one who does her duty. If not me, then who? At least, until you came along. I don't know. Before I answer your question, I'd like you to answer one of mine first. Why did you really want to take this job?"
Jamie had gotten up from his side of the couch and sat down beside her.
So many reasons, Didi. Because I hope to see my mother and brother again. Because I'm afraid I won't find my father and brother if I do cross over. Because a few weeks ago I was just a kid living in New York, wondering what to do with his life before it was snatched away from me. Because I refuse to believe that the little that I've managed to accomplish in my life will be the last mark that I make in this world, or the next.
But most of all, Didi, I didn't get to say goodbye to the girl I loved. Morgan. I need to be with her. Even if it means taking advantage of the kindness you've shown me so far. I need to find a way back to Earth.
"Jamie?" her voice broke in on his thoughts. She was looking up at him through her curtain of hair. She looked as though she knew what he was really thinking. He needed to come up with an answer.
"I want to help you. Any way that I can. That's all I want to do."
He stopped, dreading the simple question that would come next. She would ask why, and he'd either be forced to tell the truth and pour his heart out, or come up with some pathetic excuse and lie to her. He couldn't do either one, not at the moment.
But she didn't. Perhaps on some level, she knew he would need time to come to terms with his own feelings. She kissed him chastely on the cheek, and Jamie felt the blood rush to his face.
"Thank you."
"Um, I've been thinking, said Jamie hastily, to cover up his embarrassment. Do you want to hang out tomorrow?"
"But we are hanging out."
"Oh, I don't mean here. It'd be good to get out, see some sights."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Okay, one of the things that I was really looking forward while I was alive was the World Cup in South Africa."
"You follow soccer? But you're from New York."
Jamie shook his head in mock disappointment. "Stereotypes. The curse of human relations. I'd thought you'd be wiser, being the all-powerful personification of Death and all-"
Death threw a cushion at his head. "Idiot! I've not seen a game before, but it sounds interesting."
"Excellent. My timing's messed up, but I'm pretty sure the quarter finals are about to take place."
"Sure, we'll watch it after work. It's a date."
"It is?"
"It's not?"
"Um, no. I mean, yeah. It's a date. Wonderful."
"Sweet! It'll be fun."
"Yeah, I can't wait."
They finished their tea in a comfortable silence, side-by-side on the couch. When they were done, Death began to tell Jamie everything that he needed to know about doing her job.