“Fortunately, that body is gone. It was destroyed in an electric chair.”
“Well, I suppose that’s good.”
Ernesto pulls a binder from a shelf and flips through it. It doesn’t look like he’s actually reading a word.
“Luke, chances are you’ve angered someone high up. We have to figure out who that is and make this stop right now.”
“How do we do that?”
“Let’s speak with your mentor. Find out about your grief watch, who you might have interacted with. All that.” He closes the binder and puts it back on the shelf.
“My mentor is gone.” I lean forward with my elbows on my knees. I would bang my head against the wall right now if I could feel it.
“Gone?” he asks.
“Death Shadow.” I sit up straight as the scene replays in my mind. “It was terrifying.”
“That complicates things.” He strokes his chin again. I wonder if it actually gives him comfort or if it’s just a response leftover from his living days.
“Of course, it does,” I say, then immediately worry that I sound like a smartass. I don’t want to be rude to the most helpful person I’ve met in this place.
“Who did you speak with after he was taken?” He narrows his eyes at me like I’m about to reveal an important truth.
Taken is such a better word than eaten. The Shadow just took him somewhere. It didn’t consume him as he screamed.
“I was with another soul named Naomi. She was helping me with my grief watch.” I sigh in the way souls do and continue, “After that we met a woman named Doris.”
Ernesto’s eyebrows jump up and he says, “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Doris wields a lot of power. And she’s known for being rather unpleasant.”
“I got that impression,” I say.
“You’ll have to speak with Doris. I’ll go with you. Odds are she’s the one who is causing this.”
“But why?”
“That’s what we’ll have to find out.” Ernesto stands, so I do, too.
“Thanks for helping me, Ernesto. I’m glad I don’t have to face her alone.” I grab my letter from the desk. I’m at number 249. I put it in my pocket before the number can change before my eyes again.
“No problem, young man. Just doing my job.” He motions for me to walk toward the door.
I have been a natural at several things in my life. I was a natural at walking into a bar and leaving without paying for a single drink. I was a natural at selecting the right shoes for any outfit. I was a natural at selling advertisements to local retailers. But now this. Natural. A natural at choosing souls to curse to Oblivion.
I wonder how that would look on my resume.
I can’t stop to think about where Tony is now. The thought pops in my brain for just a second but I push it away quickly. He’s not my problem. He’s not my problem. He’s not my problem. I saved Louisa and Luke and Nolan.
Doris has me sitting behind her desk to get a feel for things. The temperature is strange in her space. One second I’m freezing and the next second I feel like I would sweat if I could.
“There is an actor available. He’s not as handsome as the other three but he probably has more long-term career potential.” Doris looks up from her photographs and waits for me to respond.
It takes a second for the appropriate words to gather in my mind. Between pushing Tony away and trying to congratulate myself for saving lives, there isn’t much room for other thoughts right now.
“How handsome is not as handsome as the others? Does he look the type who’ll age well? That’s one thing to consider with men. Many of them become more attractive with age.”
Doris looks back to the photograph and says, “That’s a very good point, Naomi.” She holds the photograph up toward me and says, “He’s on the good side of average looking. I believe a few wrinkles and a little gray hair would do him some good. What do you think?”
I take my time regarding the photograph. It’s a good distraction.
Doris obviously has higher standards than I do. Though the young man is not as attractive as the model she had been considering, he is very handsome. He has large brown eyes and dark hair that will undoubtedly look dapper with age.
“This is your man, Doris. Or I guess I should say, this is you.” It makes sense to me now. Why getting this job actually is a positive thing. If I can just live with what I’ve done and what I will continue to do. But I guess I’m not living at all so maybe I just need to reframe my thinking.
Doris smiles in a way I’ve never seen her do it before. It’s not snarky or cynical. It’s just a normal smile. “You know what? I do believe you’re right.”
“What’s his name?”
“Dylan with a Y like Bob Dylan. Dylan Pine.”
“When are you going to go?” It’s something I hadn’t really considered. That Doris would be leaving me soon. That I will be in charge of this shit show.
Doris places the photograph on the desk and clasps her hands together. “I can take my time since I’m in this position. No one can take the body that I want, or even one I am considering.” She picks the photograph up again and without turning away from it she says, “But I will probably go soon. You have lots of resources here. Lots of books. A lot of this will be on-the-job training that you will figure out as you go.”
“Is there anyone here who will be able to help me if I have questions?”
Doris nods and says, “You won’t be alone. It will often feel like you are, but you won’t be.”
“Louisa is still mine, correct?”
“Yes. She should be checking in with you any time now. I’ve been getting reports that she is doing better than expected. I’m sure that is a testament to your skills as a mentor.”
It’s most likely due to her brush with the Shadow, but I’ll take it.
“Where do the reports come from?” I ask. As with everything here, I don’t feel like I am getting all of the information I need.
“The reports will come to you after I’m gone. Things have a way of working themselves out.” Doris looks back to the desk. Only Dylan’s headshot remains. The others have disappeared to take their place in the vapid body program. “You won’t do the job the same way I have done it. You’ll have to follow your own instincts.”
I’m tempted to fall into sentimentality. Doris is suddenly a mother figure, a longtime boss, a bitchy but wise aunt. I remain silent so I don’t say something she can use against me later if the mood strikes her.
Chapter 24
As we leave the bookstore, we see a young man running toward us. I recognize the Black Crowes T-shirt before I recognize the face. Greg.
“Are you Ernesto?” he asks and for some reason I hear his words like he is out of breath from running even though that can’t be the case.
“Yes.”
“I was told you could help me.” Greg pulls the letter from his back pocket and unfolds it. He points to his number line and says, “I don’t know why this is happening.”
“Did it start as soon as you got the tattoo?” I ask.
Greg looks down to his forearm, to the tattoo that reads Naomi and has two circles and a dot in the middle of each one just beneath it. Rod draws boobs like a grade-schooler.
“But that’s all I bought, and my space keeps slipping.”
“Mine, too.” I see the desperation in his face and feel bad for him. Bad for us both.
“Do you know if you’ve angered someone since you’ve been dead?” Ernesto asks.
“I don’t think so.”
Angered someone. He had angered me by appearing in my space. By appearing when I was close to Naomi. But I’m not responsible for this.