Don't Fear the Reaper (20 page)

“Wish granted,” I replied. I thought of how the demon offered to reenact my sister’s murder. “I’m mad enough that I’d kill Pete right now if he was here.”

Banning gave me another glance. “Remember, Keely, it’s also in their best interest to lie, to make things sound worse than they might have been. I’m not saying I know exactly what happened with your sister before she died—I’m not the reaper who came for her. I know some details, but not all. Demons always play things up.”

“Believe me, they’d tell you anything if they thought it would work to their advantage,” Daniel chimed in.

The Taurus took us about a mile from the house. Banning made no attempt to find us another ride, so we walked.

“Best not to dwell on it,” Banning said, ruffling my hair. It was a gesture I’d expect an adult to do to a small child, not a teen. Maybe he was thinking of his daughter. “Thinking on it for too long is exactly what the demons want—your imagination working overtime.”

And my imagination
was
working overtime, making me angrier. I wanted more than ever to avenge Jordan’s death. But, I couldn’t. Banning would go to hell with me. He had a family in heaven, and if he went to hell, he’d see them less than he did now. I couldn’t take his chance to be with his family away from him. Not when I wanted my own as much as I did. Besides, Jordan belonged in heaven. I needed to be sure she would be okay. I hadn’t slit my wrist to spend time with the likes of Baldy and his tattooed friend, and even though I really liked Daniel, I didn’t see myself spending all my time with him, either.

“So, how
do
we find Jordan?” I asked. “Because, regardless of where I end up in a day or so, I’ve got to find my sister.”

We returned to the house a few hours before dawn. Banning said I should catch a couple hours sleep. He claimed I’d heal faster. I
was
tired, and I still hurt from the beating I’d taken. He thought I’d have a clearer mind by morning, too. I didn’t want to tell Banning that technically, it
was
morning. Tuesday. Besides, I had to admit, fatigue had clouded my ability to be rational about where to start looking for Jordan. A few hours of sleep
would
help me think more clearly.

The house was dark and quiet when we got in. Daniel didn’t waste any time before taking one of the sofas. We were
all
bone tired and I guess he didn’t care to check upstairs to see who was sleeping where.

“Sleep well,” Banning said as he took the sofa opposite Daniel.

I trudged up the stairs. “You, too,” I managed to mumble. I made my way down the hall and to my room. The door was closed, and I considered trying the knob for a minute. Everyone was asleep, so I reasoned that it might work. But, fatigue won out and I just walked through it. I flopped onto the bed, too tired to worry about clothes or shoes. My bedside clock with its glowing numbers proclaimed it was four in the morning. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.

The high school would be our first stop. Daniel had already been there to check on leads that might help us find Jordan. An earthbound kid told him someone fitting Jordan’s description was hanging out by my locker yesterday. Apparently, my locker had been plastered with letters, sympathy cards, and photos. Daniel felt pretty sure the kid really had seen Jordan because he’d pointed to a photo of her and me and said he was as certain as he could be since he didn’t know either of us in life—his own death had been years before.

The more I thought about it, going back to school made me feel jittery inside, as though it was the first day of school instead of approaching mid-semester. As I lay staring at the ceiling, I thought it had more to do with the idea of seeing my locker with all those photos and cards. There would be my friends, too. What did they think of me now? And, there was Miles. I cared more about what he thought than anyone else. Funny, I guess I still loved him. The longer I stayed in purgatory, the more I missed those I had shared my life with.

As worn out as I was, sleep eluded me. I got up and paced, thinking about my friends and about Miles. I was overtired, and whenever I got this way, random thoughts kept surfacing, one after another. Sometimes, I just had to let them exhaust themselves. I stayed in my room, trying to keep out of everyone’s way. Dad’s parents were frail and the last thing I wanted to do was cause them harm. I listened to the sounds coming from the guest room. A floorboard creaked as one of them got up to go to the bathroom. They’d go home soon after the funeral. Then Mom and Dad would be alone here. Alone with all the memories.

I wondered how much time I’d be allowed to spend with my parents if I ended up in hell after all. Did demons who didn’t mean any harm affect the living more than earthbounds? Daniel wasn’t the typical demon and he hadn’t affected my parents—so far. Maybe I could just stay out of Mom and Dad’s way, but still stay close enough in case they needed me.

And then what? What could I do to reassure them?

There were so many questions I wasn’t sure I wanted the answers to, and yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I tried telling myself knowledge erased all fears, but somehow, I didn’t think that applied here. After an hour or so, I tuned out the questions and just listened to the way the house settled, let the quiet familiarity comfort me.

Unable to convince myself of the need for further rest, I checked on Mom and Dad, who were both fitfully asleep. For a while, I stood by their bed, watching them twitch and turn, listening to them breathe. I took in the way things looked in the dark, with the house and all its occupants at rest. The bathroom glowed eerily in the darkness. Shadows from the night-light and the moon’s filtered glow crisscrossed, leaving double silhouettes of barren trees on the walls. I stared out the wide bathroom window over the tub and into what should be the heavens above. If Banning’s plan failed and I couldn’t go to heaven, then I supposed there was nothing more than the night and the stars up there for me, and I would have an eternity to view them. I’d have nothing to do but contemplate the mistake I had made in this very room a few nights ago.

I turned, trying not to look into the tub. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to block out that night. But the whole scene played out before me with such clarity that it was like watching a movie.

Ribbons, pretty ribbons…

I saw Dad pulling me from the water as my mother screamed.

No!

My eyes flew open, halting the replay. On the bathroom counter I noticed matching prescriptions for sleeping pills and valium. I touched the bottles, running my fingers across the labels. This was my fault. Me. The former drug addict. I left the bathroom, doing my best not to look at the tub again.

After giving each of my parents a gentle kiss, I went downstairs into the living room and curled up on one of the overstuffed chairs. Banning was stretched out on the sofa across from Daniel, a cushion behind his head.

“This whole reaper thing. How do you do it?” I asked Banning when he glanced up at me.

He sat upright, his brow furrowed in suspicion. “Take souls?”

His tone caught me off guard. It sounded uneasy, as if he thought I was asking something else. “No,” I said. “How do you deal with all this. How do you deal with eternity—the thoughts that won’t stop?”

Daniel sat up from his nap. “I’m outta here,” he said, sounding a bit grouchy. “I’ll be upstairs. Maybe there’s more quiet in the bathroom.”

Daniel didn’t fool me. He wasn’t headed for the bathroom. At least, not to pee. No food, no drink, no need. The thought made me smile anyway. I could almost imagine Daniel choosing the upstairs hall bathroom and coming face to face with one of my grandparents. I bet I’d find him sleeping in my room when I went back up there. Daniel was nothing if not opportunistic. Not that I blamed him. The sofas were fashionable and quite practical, but not the most comfortable to sleep on.

“What’s up with him?” I asked Banning. “Demons need special beauty rest or something?”

“If you figure him out, let me know,” he said, reconciled with the fact that I wasn’t going to rest and that he probably wasn’t going to get much either. He stretched his head from side to side. “How do reapers deal with eternity? We sleep. Take walks. Go places. Sometimes, we visit with family or friends—alive or dead.” He smiled. “And, movie tickets are cheap.”

“But you’re
stuck
in purgatory. You’re stuck looking at this.” I motioned around me with my arms. “Well, not exactly here, but
here
. You’re stuck in this plane, with the living and the memories. Demons can move between hell and back. Angels can move to heaven and back. You can’t, can you?”

Banning shook his head solemnly.

“Forever?”
The thought of watching the ones I love suffer, go on with life, get sick, even die, was more than I thought I could bear. It’d be worse to be a reaper, to be someone destined to sever the life force from the dying. “That’s awful.”

He shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. “I know, I know. You’re waiting on a replacement. That’s the problem. You’ve never been
sent
a replacement.”

“It’ll happen. Someday.”

I bit my lip. “I’d almost prefer hell to your job.”

“It changes. And you haven’t been to hell. Not that I have, either. But at least here I can help. I can make a difference. I doubt I would have had the same opportunity in hell.”

Leave it to Banning to find a silver lining in his black duster.

“You’ve got a couple of hours before we go,” he said. “You should rest. Those bruises will go away a lot faster. You wouldn’t want everyone to see you with a shiner, would you?”

“No,” I replied with a small laugh. Even though no one would be able to see me, I didn’t want to have to walk around with a black eye on top of everything else. Suddenly, I felt weary. I got to my feet and headed toward the stairs. I took the first step before it occurred to me what Banning must have thought I was going to ask him. I turned. “Banning?”

He had already lain back down on the sofa. He raised his head. “Yes, Keely?”

“How do you become a reaper?”

He frowned, lowered his head onto the pillow, and closed his eyes.

“Go to sleep, Keely,” he said softly.

I awoke almost four hours later. Light streamed in through the curtains, and I rolled over, looking at the time—nearly nine o’clock. School had already started. I scrambled out of bed and rummaged through Jordan’s closet for something to wear. I chose her favorite pair of jeans, a white short sleeve shirt, and a black hoodie.

I stood in front of her dresser mirror thinking how weird it was that the
real
hoodie and pair of jeans still hung in the closet where they’d stay until either one of my parents or my aunt packed them into boxes. Aunt Jen would probably drop them off at a donation center—I didn’t think Mom would have the strength.

Someone tapped on the bedroom door. Daniel or Banning. It’d never be anyone else. “Come in,” I said.

Daniel entered through the door and took a seat on the edge of Jordan’s bed. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, as okay as it gets, I guess. You?” He looked perfectly normal again. Not a cut, not a bruise. The same was true for me—my bruises and cuts were gone.

Daniel took in Jordan’s room, paying special attention to her desk with the iMac and the shelf full of books. Most of them were fiction, with the exception of a dictionary and thesaurus. Jordan read a lot. My sister’s room was nearly identical to mine except hers had been painted a sage green and mine was blue.

“Today’s going to be hard on you,” Daniel said, his eyes finally meeting mine.

“Thanks for the warning,” I replied, mustering a smile. He was trying not to go all soft around the edges, as he’d say. But, he cared. “I’ll stay tough. Promise.” I held up my hand. “Dead girl’s honor.”

“I’m not talking about finding your sister,” he said. “I’ve been where you are.”

I swept my hair into a ponytail and sat on the bed beside him. “Thanks. For yesterday. For everything.”

I wasn’t sure what to expect from him. Maybe for him to say something sarcastic or rude—his trademark way of dealing with people who were nice to him. What I hadn’t expected was the flush of red that briefly colored his cheeks.

He stood quickly and straightened his shirt, then walked toward to the door. “Well, whatever, Sunshine. Let’s get going.”

Daniel had been right, though. It felt odd walking through the doors into school. I’d thought the last time I’d walk through these halls would be during final exams before graduation. It’d been what Jordan and I talked about almost incessantly after school let out for the summer. No more juniors. We were going to be seniors. I didn’t know back then that Jordan wouldn’t even start that final year of high school with me. That Monday in late August had been more than the first day of my senior year—it had also been the first time in my life I wasn’t a twin.

I remembered thinking how we’d talked about homecoming, choosing a college. Spring break. Prom. Saying goodbye to our classmates, teachers, and public education. The end of what we’d be able to call our adolescent years. The beginning of our adult years. In all those endings and new beginnings, death, the mother of
all
endings and new beginnings, never entered into the equation.

I don’t know what I’d expected to find when I walked through the hallway before the start of second period—maybe friends crying in the halls. A somber attitude, a sense of loss. And while there definitely seemed to be an air of quiet among the students, the day also went on as usual. Everything looked the same—the olive-drab lockers, the mural painted on the wall opposite the cafeteria, compliments of the senior Advanced Arts class, the same dingy black-speckled white and gray floors.

Yet, it felt different, too. All different now that I wasn’t a part of it.