“Wait,” I say. “Tony, you’ll get your chance to kill me. But first we have to save Luke and Greg.”
“Luke’s going to be fine. He’s young and attractive and has a job. There’s no way he’ll be returning with you,” Doris says. “That only leaves Greg and really he would have squandered his next chance anyway. He was way too self-involved to see the consequences of his actions.”
“That’s not your call to make,” Ernesto says.
“But it is. That was my job for a very long time. I’ve seen souls like Greg hundreds of times. They show up with no awareness of how they affect others. Even after grief watch. Even after Naomi killed herself, too. Sure, he was a little sad, but he didn’t really blame himself. I’d bet he felt like a goddamn rock star during grief watch. All of those people, mostly pretty girls, crying for him. Fuck Greg.”
“Okay, but what about Luke? You know some concessions have to made if he stays here,” Ernesto says.
“What type of concessions?” I ask.
“It’s about the balance. Always about the balance,” Doris says with a sigh. “You know, when I first started organizing the souls I loved the balance system. It was so sensible and orderly. But it eventually started to drive me nuts. Too many damned rules.”
“I thought you liked rules, Doris,” I move to the couch and sit back, melting into the cushions. I don’t feel right. I don’t know if it’s because I’m ill, or from Doris’ drugs, or sitting still so long, or all three.
“I like order. But I also like being able to make executive decisions without all of the constraints of the need for constant balance. Trying to maintain balance all the time is impossible. I drove myself mad with trying.” She holds her arms up and says, “But it doesn’t goddamn matter. I’m not going back. You can figure it out, Ernesto. Give them Louisa. We all know that girl doesn’t have a chance.”
The edges of my vision start to go blurry and gray. My head bobs from side to side. It’s too heavy for my neck.
“Naomi!” I hear Ernesto say in Bree’s shrill voice. It’s kind of funny, but I can’t seem to laugh.
“What’s wrong with her?” Tony asks, though he makes no move to help me.
“She’s dying. That body is in worse shape than I thought,” Doris says.
A modicum of clarity returns to my vision, but I still feel like I can’t really move.
“She can’t die of natural causes. You know that. This isn’t what is supposed to happen to her,” Ernesto says.
“Why not?” I ask. It comes out in a mumbled slur. “Doris s—said it would be okay.”
Ernesto looks at me through Bree’s too-pretty face. “She doesn’t know that for sure. This is an unreliable path.”
This revelation gives me enough of an adrenaline surge to sit up. It’s a start. “Edgar said we couldn’t lie in the afterlife.”
Ernesto sits down and takes my hand. His nails are painted neon orange. “First, we’re not in the afterlife right now. Second, losing the ability to lie was one of your specific regulations.”
“Well, that’s bullshit. Why didn’t Edgar tell me?”
He smiles softly and says, “You had so much to learn, Naomi. Not lying was a gift for you. Something to help you out. We didn’t tell you that it didn’t apply to everyone because we don’t typically discuss the terms of other’s paths. Each soul in Suicide Soul Station is a true individual.”
“Even with your breasts showing you sound like a damn hippy,” Doris says to Ernesto. She’s not wrong.
“She told me I had to send you to save the others, Tony. I never would have done that on my own. She also said that you killed your wife before you killed yourself. I didn’t know why you did it until it was too late.” I don’t know why I tell him all that. I don’t necessarily want him to hurt Doris, but I don’t really mind if he does. Is my enlightenment fucked? I try to push myself into standing but I can’t.
“What the hell, Doris?” Tony asks.
Why are they all so attractive? It’s like I’m watching an HBO sitcom and everyone is about to get naked.
“As if you don’t know,” she says and crosses her arms over her chest. She just needs that big-bow blouse and she would look just like her old self with that expression.
Thoughtfulness and then resignation cross his high cheek-boned face. “Because I was thinking about taking over Dylan Pine.”
“Bingo,” she says.
“But there are plenty of attractive vapid bodies walking around at any second,” Ernesto says.
“Plenty? Seriously, how the fuck did I end up as Juniper Haskell? Was this supposed to be a joke?” My outburst drains the little bit of energy I had built up. I slump toward Ernesto, bumping right into a D-cup. I put my hand on it and squeeze. It’s fake and very firm. He leans toward me and gently pushes me upright.
“It’s a loaner body. Not the permanent one. But you have to kill yourself again. Right now,” Ernesto says.
“What about Doris?” I whisper.
“Tony and I will deal with her. If you die of natural causes right now, we won’t be in a position to help you,” he says.
“What if they’re the ones lying, Naomi? You might be making a big mistake,” Doris says. “Tony hates you. He hates me, too. Ernesto could be backing the wrong horse.”
She could be telling the truth but probably not.
Tony gathers the pill bottles from table and drops them in my lap. I try to open one but I’m too weak. Ernesto takes over while Tony pours me a glass of water. Doris watches the entire scene with her arms crossed. She’s managed to tarnish Dylan’s pretty face with the Doris smirk.
Ernesto scans the bottles and tosses the benign pills to the side. He opens three of the bottles and dumps their contents into my lap.
“You have to do this yourself or it doesn’t count,” Ernesto says. One of his breasts presses against my arm to keep me upright. It’s quite soothing.
“I don’t want her dying on my couch,” Doris says. None of us acknowledge her statement.
I grab three of the pills and raise them to my mouth. It takes too much effort. I’ll have to grab more at once for this to work. Tony presses the glass to my lips and I swallow. “What was that?” I ask.
“I think morphine and Norco,” Ernesto answers.
“Nice,” I force a weak smile. Hopefully I’ll get a decent buzz before I kick off.
“You have to try to lift the glass yourself this time, okay? If we help you on the fatal dose it might be classified as murder,” Tony says. He’s become much more helpful than I expected.
I nod slowly and grab five pills this time. I can do this. With my old body I swallowed a full bottle of Xanax. My old body.
I get it now. What it all means.
“I’m more than a body,” I say directly to Ernesto’s chest.
He smiles and says, “I know, Naomi. I know. Now get these pills down you.”
I put the pills in my mouth and lift the water glass to my lips. It takes more strength than it should. I gag as the pills go down my throat but get them all the way down.
“You have great tits,” I say to Ernesto.
He smiles and says, “I know. I won’t be keeping them, though. Not really my style. I always preferred athletic women with small breasts.”
“Weird.” I’m smiling. I can feel it for a second before my face goes numb.
“Come on, Naomi. A few more. There are some sleeping pills here. Those will give you the extra push,” Tony says. He sounds honestly concerned. It’s weird.
I grab as many pills as I can get in my fist. It’s a mix of large and small. Some are green and some are white. I lift the water to my lips. It feels like I’m trying to swallow a tennis ball.
Darkness creeps at the edge of my vision. I’m almost there. Almost dead again.
I fumble with the remaining pills in my lap. There are more than I’ll be able to swallow. I grab as many as my fingers will let me. I lift them up to my face. I squint to see what I have. Only two pills. Maybe it will be enough. I place them on my tongue and start chewing in case I can’t swallow them whole. The bitterness spreads across my mouth but it’s not as awful as I would have thought. Maybe my taste buds are already dying. Does it happen that way? Or maybe they’re just numb from the amount of narcotics in my system.