“Yeah. I slapped my ex-boyfriend. It was rad.”
Louisa lets her arms drop and sits back down. “Well, okay. When do I start?”
As soon as the question exits her lips, she is sucked away. She doesn’t have all of the instructions and helpful hints.
I guess whoever’s in charge here isn’t crazy about suicide souls having help.
Chapter 14
“Where’s Edgar?” the girl swivels her head, looking around the non-café. She’s more of a woman than a girl, I suppose. But she’s petite and blonde. Not bottle blonde, but that blonde that usually only occurs naturally in children. Like sin hasn’t had a chance to darken their heads yet. She’s wearing something that’s overalls on the top and a skirt on the bottom. It’s like a scout uniform without patches or buttons. The overall look is familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Was he your mentor?” I ask.
She nods and crosses her arms tightly across her chest like I’m trying to undress her with my eyes.
I honestly don’t think I was.
“I’m Luke.” I extend my hand.
She releases her right hand reluctantly and we do the fake shake that I’m growing used to.
“Sondra,” she says, and her right arm rejoins her left across her chest.
“Do you know how long you’ve been dead?” I ask.
She shakes her head and says, “I’m not sure. The last time I saw Edgar he said I was almost done.”
“I recently completed my grief watch after being dead about ten years.” An entire decade. Ten years of doing nothing but sitting around and not making people cry fast enough.
“Wow,” she says. “You must have been terrible at grief watch.”
“I’m really, really bad at it.”
Sondra smiles a little and looks down to her lap.
“Edgar’s gone, Sondra.”
“Gone? What do you mean?” Her eyes are back on me, but I’d rather they weren’t.
“Oblivion. The Shadow took him.” I’m not sure if I should explain further. I don’t think I know how.
I expect her to freak out. To cry or scream, or at least panic and tremble. She looks the type to do all of those things.
“Oh,” she says. She lets her arms drop to the table. “What now?”
“You’re okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Edgar was a butthole. He made fun of my hair and outfit every time he saw me. I had to put up with that crap when I was alive.”
“Well, okay.” Village of the Damned! It’s so obvious now. She even has those chunky bangs.
“But what happens now?”
“I don’t know.”
A file appears before me on the table. I’m not sure if it’s weird spirit magic or if Doris is Big-Brothering us.
I open it and there’s a form letter inside. I read it to myself first, almost forgetting that I’m not alone.
Congratulations Sondra Truman,
You have officially completed your Grief Watch. We trust that you have learned the impact of your actions and will strive to make better choices in your next life.
We hope you agree that this second chance is more than generous. If you choose to end your own life a second time, you will be immediately transported to Oblivion.
Your next stop is a waiting area until your Body Selection Concierge becomes available. Once the concierge is available, a selection of vapid bodies will be presented to you. You must then make a choice within twenty-four hours. You will be given an appropriate time-keeping device for this purpose. If you fail to choose a vapid body within the twenty-four hours, you will be moved to the end of the line. You are currently number 254 in queue. If you fail to choose the second time, you will be escorted to Oblivion by the Death Shadow.
I don’t realize that my mouth is hanging open until Sondra says, “You look like you’re about to catch flies with that thing. What the heck does the paper say?”
My mouth closes, then opens again to say, “Sorry.” I read it to Sondra, even though she’s probably capable of reading it herself.
“So now I’m going to a waiting room for what is probably a long time?”
“Sounds like it.”
She leans forward and quietly says, “This place is a bunch of crap, isn’t it?”
I nod my head, even though I’m afraid that Doris is watching and listening.
“You don’t want to go to Oblivion, though. I saw Edgar go. It was terrifying.” I place the letter on the desk and slide it toward her. “Maybe the waiting area will be fun.”
“Fun?” she asks, raising her blonde eyebrows.
“If there are other souls there, you can make some new friends. You already have your icebreaker. You’ll all have suicide in common.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Look, I’m trying to process this information, too. I’ll be doing the same thing hopefully very soon.” I shrug and say, “It’s all you’ve got right now.”
“You’re right.” Sondra picks up the letter. I don’t know if she’s reading it, or just putting her eyes on it so she doesn’t have to look at me.
“Don’t you think it’s interesting that we’re going to have choices? I mean, what if we can choose a different race or gender?”
Sondra looks up and says, “Did you want to be a woman? Is that why you killed yourself?” Her eyes light up like she’s about to receive the best gossip ever.
“No. I did not want to be a woman. I just didn’t want to be alive.”
“I can relate to that. I guess that is the icebreaker.” She places the letter back on the table and says, “I know one thing: I don’t want to be a blonde again.”
Before I can respond that she probably just doesn’t want to be a natural blonde, she’s gone.
The weird waiting room again. It seems like anything would be possible in this place. So why are there no Picassos on the wall? I’m sure they could find one to match the orange chairs.
Luke appears beside me.
“Hi.” He smiles at me without glancing at my tits. It’s sweet.
“Hi.”
“You’ll never believe what I just read.” He tucks his hair behind his ears, and he looks really young.
Is he ten years younger than me, or are we the same age? I’ve been trying to work that out since I met him, but my mind can’t seem to stick to a decision.
“What?” I’m so relieved to see him. He’s much less emo after losing Edgar.
I guess soul-eating shadows tend to remind a person that their problems really aren’t that big of a deal.
Doris appears through the undetectable door once again.
“Luke, Naomi.” She motions for us to enter her office.
We stand and follow her in.
“Please, have a seat,” she says in a way that indicates it’s more of an order than an invitation.
I have no way to know for sure, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that our Doris didn’t get laid often when she was alive. She probably didn’t even own a vibrator.
“I have some good news and some bad news.”
Doris pauses as if she asked a question. Luke and I look at each other and then back to Doris.
“You are both off to a great start with your charges.” Doris smiles like she just gave us both a new car.
“That’s the good news, right?” I ask.
“Indeed, it is.” She sits behind the desk and says, “However, things are still out of balance.”