“Good evening, Joseph,”
I enter the room right after Death. I am clutching onto my notepad for reassurance. I wait for Death to go to his seat and give me some sort of signal on where I should sit. He glances beside him and I go to where he asked.
I set the notepad down and raise my head finally. There are three people from their side. A woman and two men. I am guessing the one with the perfect posture and the heavy gaze to be the Joseph that Death called to.
“Good Evening, who is this young woman? You’ve never had a secretary before,” Joseph says. He is the guy I thought he was.
Death scoots up to the table. “Yeah, I thought I needed a change,”
“Interesting,” Joseph says, leaning in “May I have your name?”
I look to Death for help but he doesn’t give me any obvious signals. It would be rude for me not to answer.
“Anwen,” I say.
“Anwen?” He says “Executive Assistant Anwen. You must be pretty skilled to have such a high position,”
Death clears his throat. “You wanted to talk about the soul dealership or my assistant?”
Joseph backs up, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “No, no, let’s discuss the soul predicament,”
Death looks down at his paper. “It says here you want Soul Information. For what reason?”
“We want to gather enough data to market properly,” Joseph starts. “I understand your company needs some more productivity levels. The stress levels are out of the roof and is the main cause of most of your reapers quitting. We can help reduce that number bringing in more profit,”
Death leans in. He’s thinking about it. “What do you want in return? Intel and what else?”
“Intel and we need a soul consultant as well,”
“Those two can be provided,” Death says “We can have further meetings to work out the details but, as far as I can see, I don’t see a reason not to go through with this,”
I scribble random words trying to make myself look productive. I even pull my eyebrows in for good measure.
“Okay, that’s all I wished to discuss,” Joseph says, rising to his feet.
Everyone follows suit afterwards. We say polite goodbyes and they leave. It really wasn’t that bad. I didn’t mess up.
“Hey, Anwen,” Death says as he takes my hand. He snaps and the usual vortex happens leaving me temporarily blind. My head isn’t pounding as much but the nausea is not going away any time soon.
The place is pitch black and the soles of my kitten heels rub up against a soft surface.
“You messed up,” Death says, flipping on a switch “Big time,”
My eyes blink rapidly trying to adjust. I take in the interior before me. The entire floor is carpeted and there is a long couch lining the stone walls. The chandeliers and the staircase look frighteningly expensive.
“Don’t touch a thing in my house,” Death mutters, “How could you have said your name? Your real one at that? He’s going to look you up and ask me why he didn’t see your name in the academy. He is always trying to find ways to meddle in my affairs,”
“What was I supposed to do? Be rude?”
“Yes, you were supposed to be rude. I told you not to say anything,”
“No, you told Sofie not to say anything,”
“Because I didn’t want you to answer questions. Are you really that dense?” Death says.
“I’m not dense. I just didn’t understand,”
“Which is why we’re in this mess in the first place,” Death says “Come on. I need to go to the kitchen.”
I follow him. The embarrassment overtaking me once again.
I am not dumb. I’m just slow. I’ve always been that way.
Even when I was at school, I often had to study three times more than other people to get a concept that people got quickly. It would take a while for things to sink into my brain. My dad used to joke around saying he dropped me once as a baby. I didn’t think that joke was funny.
I trail behind Death as he switches on the light. Everything in the kitchen is low and flat. The stove blends in with the counters and the cupboards are all low. He begins to take out some food from the fridge I mistook for a wall. It was the same color and only had two handles to indicate it existed.
Death doesn’t say anything else. He just takes out ingredients and begins to cook up a storm. He chops veggies and boils pasta looking like a true chef. He does not pay me any mind. It’s like he’s trying to forget me. That’s fine because I am finding myself doing the same thing.
Death takes his alfredo that he made and puts into a single bowl not leaving a thing left. He heads towards a table and sits down.
“There’s cereal in the cabinet and milk in the fridge if you want it,”
I hate him.
I hate him with everything I have.
Calling me dense is one thing and calling me a Neanderthal is another but denying me food is a whole other level. He made enough for two. I know he doesn’t have to but it’s just a decent thing to do.
“Fine,” I say, turning my back on him.
The alfredo smells so good and I haven’t had any fresh food in years. I can’t help but imagine eating the dish in my head. The cheesy taste and the parsley he topped it with. It would be divine but here I am reaching down here to get some Fruity Pebbles. Well jokes on him, this is my favorite cereal. I open all the drawers to find the spoons and the bowls. I close them back afterward, making my way to the fridge.
There it is. I grab the milk and make myself a bowl.
“You can sit on the couch. It stretches far enough,” He says before taking another bite “Damn, I outdid myself this time,”
I glare at the back of his head praying he’d drop cold on the floor. I sit on the couch and begin eating my sad cereal.
“We’ll start the first step tonight,” Death says, calling over his shoulder “We should get this over this as quickly as we can,”
“I agree,” I say, slurping down another spoon “What’s the first step?”
He peers over his shoulder. “So, you have to unattach yourself from every single aspect. The first aspect we’ll tackle is your past things mentally and physically,”
“It will be difficult but out of the six steps it will be the easiest,” Death says, standing up with his empty bowl “Come on. Let’s get to it now,”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Like I said, I want to get rid of this inconvenience as soon as possible.”
___
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