Category: Other

For Part 1, click here.

 

“Good evening, Death,” Jeremy greeted him cheerfully. Jeremy was a young man who had been a wonderful scholar until one evening, as he was walking to his dorms, he had a heart attack and died. He had grown fond of Death and often made for Death’s only real companion. Then he noticed the look on Death’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his jolly grin turning to a look of concern.

“Meh.” Death shrugged. “This job has sort of… gotten old. It bores me.”

“No!” Jeremy replied, making a long face. “You’re Death. You’re immortal. What would we do without you? The people need you.”

“Guess the Sun was right. I just have to make the most of it.” Death sighed.

“Well, you could always change it up a little.” Death looked curiously at Jeremy. “You know, make it fun. Add some dancing, a couple jokes, you get the idea.”

Death thought about it and, for the first time in his highly extensive life, actually did some research on people and their hobbies. He found out about music, and card tricks, and everything else that seems like everyday entertainment to you. And then it hit him. The idea that would develop his monotonous career into a fun, capricious… game! He started running out the Gates of the Underworld.

“Where are you going?” Jeremy asked, looking up from his books. Part of his liking for being one of the Dead was that he had all of eternity to read his books, reread his books, and read books he had never previously had access to.

“Changing it up. Want to come?” Death asked, halfway out the door. Jeremy very quickly closed his books, slid them into a drawer in a desk that he had made, and stepped out with Death. Now, stepping outside into a North Dakota winter without a jacket may seem foolish to you, but I assure you, it had no effect on either man whatsoever. For, you see, not being able to feel cold and heat was yet another benefit of being Dead.

They made a sharp turn and started down a busy road. “So, what’s the plan?” Jeremy asked.

“We’re going to change it up,” Death replied. Then he turned down a street into a park and started singing and dancing around, randomly tapping people. He eventually returned to Jeremy, triumphant, and said, “Ten more people. That should be all for this week in North Dakota.” With that he turned and led Jeremy back to the Gates of the Underworld.

When they got back, Jeremy asked, “How will all those people die?”

Death turned and responded, “Assorted reasons. The young man will Die in a car accident, that family of four’s house will burn down, taking them with it, and the rest will die of stuff like old age and diseases.”

For once, Jeremy seemed lost for words. “But… but isn’t that sort of mean? Killing some off so young?”

“No, my dear boy! I only let those who are Ready – pure of heart and soul – Die and join us in the Underworld. It is a gift! Eternal life! No pain! No rules! It is access to all the knowledge they ever wanted!” He waved his arms emphatically.

 

What about there? Was that the ending that satisfies you most? Death explaining the good that has come from his role? If not, I have one more possible ending for you, the one that I originally used for the contest, coming next week!

It occurred to me that it has been over two years since I received an honorable mention in the Felix Dennis writing competition in the Stratford Literary Festival for a story I wrote about Death. Literally. My main character was Death. And it occurred to me that perhaps, I should share that story with you. And then it occurred to me that that story was too long for one post, so I decided to split it across three. Enjoy! (And please pardon the cheesy plot: after all, I was younger then.)

 

For All Time

“This job is getting old,” Death said to himself. And his statement was quite literal. For, you see, Death’s story went back way past most anything you could imagine. Past the Louisiana Purchase, past Babylon, even past the dinosaurs. For, in fact, Death’s story started way back when the universe itself was said to have been created. He witnessed what you mortals nowadays can only dream about. Let me explain.

Millennia ago, when the universe itself burst into existence, so did Death. Death was not cruel, as many today picture him. He was, much like you, a normal human being. Well, almost. For, you see, Death was immortal. He himself was created, like the rest of us, different. Taking the form of a human being, he was created as a full grown man. Yet he knew not of his job to-be, nor how he came to exist. In fact, none of us did, save the Sun, who guided us into our rightful positions.

I was there when the Sun told Death his name, his new line of work, and the job criteria, so to speak. Old as I am, I still remember the conversation I witnessed, fresh as grass in spring. “Your name shall be Death.” The Sun began. “Your job is to take the Lives of those who are Ready, and welcome the new Dead to the Underworld.” Death seemed to understand the job reasonably well. He dispatched himself to the Underworld to begin his job.

That was when the Sun turned to me. He spoke in a stern, deep voice, yet it was still kind. “You shall be the Moon. You shall light the Night with the Stars during my rest. The people will look to you for guidance as you reflect my Light unto them.” To my surprise, I understood exactly what he meant.

We all went to our works. Centuries passed. Every decade or so we held a council to discuss our jobs. That’s when things changed. We had gathered for one of our councils, and the Sun had started talking to Death. “And how is your job?” he asked, expecting the usual response.

“Honestly, it’s getting kind of boring,” Death replied. “Could we, say, exchange jobs for a day? Or take a vacation?”

“This is your job, Death! There is no vacation from a job as important as yours!”

“Well, has it ever, ever, occurred to you, brilliant you, that I might not like my job? I quit!”

Sun gasped, then regained his composure and replied, “There is no quitting your job, Death. Don’t even try. You are destined to pluck Souls and welcome them to the Underworld.”

“Easy for you to say. Everyone looks forward to the Sunrise, when the dark and scary Night passes,” Death scoffed. “I, on the other hand, am feared, banished to the Underworld, and hated! People always look forward to you, but I am despised. I’m sick of it. I quit!”

“Death, you cannot quit. Please try to make the most out of your job.”

Death slumped his shoulders and went home, if anyone can call the Underworld a home.

 

I hope you enjoyed the beginning of my story! The rest will be posted these next two Sundays, if you’d like to finish it. Or, perhaps, you liked the message of the Sun’s statement as a final note, and you don’t really want to read the rest of the story, in which case, don’t! It’s all up to you!

 

Alright, we’re taking a new twist this week. Instead of me rambling incessantly over some game, person or event, I want you to leave me a comment telling me about one of your favorite things. It could be anything: a game, book, toy, person, group of people, or a memorable event. I’d love to hear what you all have to say!

Happy Holidays and may the force be with you!

Yeah, a little off topic, I know. But cats are an important part of my daily life. Plus, they’re adorable.

The reason I’m posting about cats goes back a month or so now. At my school, every kid in my grade has to take a mandatory 9-week speech class. During that time, we had three speeches to present. After the second one, our teacher asked us all what we wanted her to ask our parents for. Thus, per my request, she sent home an email saying that they should get me a kitten.

A few days ago, we were headed home and my mother detoured to the local animal shelter. As could be expected, I was over-the-top excited and couldn’t wait to meet everyone. We started by greeting the older cats, the youngest of whom was a shy brown tabby named Omelette. We liked the cats, but we were looking for someone young enough to keep our older girls, June and Diane, on their toes, with a strong enough personality to compete.

So we went to meet the kittens (oh, the horrors!). There were only three, two of whom were Omelette’s offspring: Bacon and Eggs (nice, imaginative naming, guys!). They shared her quiet and skittish personality, but the third, a white and black who was at the time called Haley, came right up in our faces, asking for attention. She was constantly purring and bounding around, so we decided that she was the perfect choice.

As could be expected, there was a little trouble in introductions, leading to at least a day of the older girls hissing, growling and frantically pawing whenever any other cat came close. The kitten just kept bolting around and exploring, though, so eventually the other two came around.

Next was the matter of naming: we already have a relative named Haley, so we knew that the kitten’s would have to change. Mom rooted for Eowyn, but I decided that she was more of an Arwen. I prevailed and we officially named my kitten after an elf.

Cats are excellent companions, for both entertainment and cuddly purposes. They are, true to stereotype, very mischievous, but I can assure you that black cats are not bad luck. Quite on the contrary, in some places they are considered good luck! Those places are correct, as I spent the first 9 years of my life with a black cat in the household. During that time, I (or my parents) won everything from little raffles to a car at a baseball game (Camry 2012, Cubs game). I never managed to break a bone, get a cavity or require glasses, which is only somewhat luck, but I count myself fortunate anyways.

Can somebody tell me where that superstition came from anyways? But seriously, if you haven’t done so today (and you aren’t allergic,) go pet a cat!