030. Death - Death of the Endless

I sit in the hospital, and I remember Death.

*

The first time I saw Death, I was six, seated front row at Haly's circus. Just me and my dad. I remembered watching the boy in the acrobat family, swinging high in the air, grabbing the trapeze bar as it swung within his reach, perfect and flawless. I remembered thinking I wanted to try to fly like he did. He flew into the arms of his parents, and we all cheered. It was great. Really great.

Then they lowered the net. He swung out on the bar, and he did a real fancy maneouver, and reached for the bar. But it wasn't there. The bar didn't swing far enough. The flawless boy fell. I covered my eyes and screamed, and the crowd gasped. I opened them. I had to know if the flying boy had grown wings, or if he had hit the ground.

I looked out at the floor, and saw not the boy, but a teenage girl. She looked about my sister's age, sixteen or so. She was pretty, but very pale. Her hair was black, like her clothes, and she had a little curlicue in black under one eye. It looked like the masks I had seen in the museum trip. The necklace she wore did too. She smiled, and pointed up. I looked up. The boy still flew.

He held a cord, and dangled from it above the girl. Slowly, he slid down it. His parents slid down a long ladder, and joined him. Together, they pu thteir arms around him, and held their free hands up proudly. The girl in the centre ring applauded with the crowd, then touched his parents on the shoulders. For a moment, I saw double. The parents, the Flying Graysons, looked at her, surprised. She drew them away from their son, and they came reluctantly. And yet, they stood there, waving to the crowd. I was trying to clap, but my hands shook, so I balled them up in my lap, pressing my knuckles into my knees.

Across from me, I saw a lady in a pink dress, and a man I recognized from TV. He was watching hte boy. He looked impressed. I was impressed too. Then, two claps of thunder echoed in the big top. The grown up Flying Graysons fell, brains and blood spattering their son. The two who stood with the pale girl looked sad. His mother wanted to comfort him, but instead, the girl shook her head, and they faded away. Their souls faded away. I knew then who she was, as people ran screaming from the Big Top. She was Death. One of the circus performers, I thought maybe it was the pretty lady who rode the elephant, ran towards the boy who could fly. He stared down at his parents in shock and fear, and did not look away. I saw them too, but I just remember staring at his face. His grief was plain, and I felt my insides tighten, and my dad covered my eyes with his hand.

"Don't look, baby." he whispered, and pulled me into his arms, trying to protect me. I turned my head at the last moment, and I saw the boy. He was held by the woman who rode elephants, but like me, he looked around. Our eyes met, and I wanted to tell him it hadn't hurt. They hadn't felt the pain. Those things on the ground were just vessels. THe stuff that was his parents, what had filled those vessels, was at peace. I wanted to tell him everything would be okay. But my dad covered my face again, and when I could see once more, Dad was carrying me out to the limousine, and I didn't see the boy who could fly again.

*

When I was ten, I saw Her again. The girl I knew was Death. I was standing in front of the shopping mall. It was cold, but I was christmas shopping. I was waiting for my dad. He was buying me a present, something special he wanted to get before it was too late. Watching her, I stamped my feet and rubbed my arms, hugging myself in my warm coat. She smiled at me across the street, and waved. I waved back, tentatively. She winked at me. I gave a trembling smile. She knew I could see Her. I thought it was wierd, that I could see her, but nobody else could. Then she stepped into the crowd, and touched the shoulder of an old woman, huddled in her coat. She gestured across the street, and the spirit of the old woman nodded, smiling. Death and the old lady crossed the street, and stepped onto the curb in front of me. I looked past them, and watched the rude man bump the old woman. Her empty body cried out, and stumbled, slipping off the curb. Her frail old head hit the ground, and cracked with a sicknening sound. She was dead. I looked at Death and the old lady. They were stepping up the stairs, right in front of me. I smiled at the old woman. "Merry christmas, Ma'am." I said politely. She patted my head. "Such a kind child. Merry christmas." she said. The old lady began to fade. I looked at Death. She looked at me, and ruffled my hair. I almost thought it was fondly. Then she was gone, and my father came out. He took one look at the people trying to revive the old dead woman, and swept me away, telling me not to look.

*

I was twelve when the speeding truck hit my friend Alex. But I did not see Death. I was at home, with a terrible fever. I wasn't there to watch Alex die. But when my dad came in to tell me, I just nodded. I was so very tired, and there she was, standing behind him. She smiled, almost apologetically. When my dad left, she came into my room, and sat beside my bed. "Is it my turn too?" I whispered then, and she shook her head. "No. Alex will come back as someone who leads a happy life though. He asked me to say goodbye to you for him." she stated. I smiled at her. "Thanks. Can I ask you another question?" I say. She nods, chin propped in her hands. "How come I see you?" I asked. She smiled. "Because you're special. When you get a little older, I'll introduce you to some of my bothers and sisters. You'll be able to see them too." she stated. "What makes me so special? I didn't want to see the Flying Boy's parents die. Or the old lady at the shopping mall." I state, and tears prick my eyes. She smoothed my red hair off my face. "I know. But there's a reason for everything. One day, perhaps you'll meet my brother Destiny. He knows all about it." she states. Death bent at the waist, and kissed my forehead. "Sleep tight, hon." she said, and vanished. I did not see her again until just recently.

*

I see her a lot since I started working at St. Luke's Hospital, in San Francisco. Sometimes I'm with them, waiting while they die. Other times, I see her in the halls. We chat the odd time. Today, she sat with me at the side of old Mr. Dormeins while I held his hand. "Tell me something, Kid." she smiles crookedly at me. I think it's a pretty smile. "Sure." I say. When we're together, it's like she's a friend from my childhood. We visit, talk, even laugh sometimes. "What are you doing here?" she asks me. I stare at her. "I'm..." I begin, then fall silent. "Actually, I have no idea why I'm here. People dying all around me, and I always know. Because I see you. When I know a patient is dying, I sit with them, and wait for you to come. Maybe I come here to see you, Death. Maybe I come here so that they don't all have to see you alone." I tell her. "That's sweet. But aren't you afraid of me?" she asks. "Not really. Should I be?" I ask, and she laughs.

"Not really." she replies, and takes Mr. Dormien's hand, helping him out of his body. He kisses my cheek on his way by, and his spirit feels warm, while his physical hand chills in my own already. "Bye." I say, and he smiles. "Thank you, dear." he murmurs, and Death winks at me.

"See you round, Kid." she says, and I smile. They leave, and I sit for a while longer, just holding his hand before I call for the nurses.