THE GRIM REAPER'S GIRL

There’s a lot of things you learn on the line of duty as a wing-man or wing-lady. First and foremost is understanding that you’re only a link in the chain, and when the time comes you’ll have to disengage yourself and let the big girls and boys play. Sweat and hormones, it’s always been about this. Second, mind your own business. Walls have ears, however inviting it is to keep yourself in the know of what’s going on with the hookups you’ve made, you have a right to remain silent. This by extension means you are supposed to be deaf, blind, mute and numb. Do not try and third-wheel yourself into anything. Two unknowns have always been enough for any mathematical equation to be complicated, do not be the third unknown. Lastly, there is a code of respect and honor in the affairs of men that goes unwritten and unspoken. You just know. The eleventh commandment is written in red, capital and underlined fine print. It says thou shall not break the code.

For me, winging the Ripper was a matter of all or nothing. In fact, it was a matter of eternal bloom or eternal gloom. Heaven or hell. I had to do my homework and score at least 110% or else it’s not going to be a happy ending.So, I set out to discover the best way to get the girl. They said nice guys finish last, except Ripper isn’t a nice guy, death is as macho as they come. However, looking at it from a different perspective, the objective wasn’t as shallow as getting some nookie somewhere in the middle of Uptown Limbo. Ripper would have learnt all of that from Casanova or King Solomon or Christian Grey. My assignment was to capture her mind and keep her hooked on him like a drug, a drug with an eternal high.

Cysgod walked into the pub slowly and gracefully. She was almost unsure where to step. I could sense this was one of the few times she’d been here. Funny how grace can easily be mistaken for perfection when it is in fact, innocent cluelessness with a whiff of caution. Clearly her feet weren’t used to the geography of downtown Limbo. Ripper told me a ripper only comes downtown when looking for something. Being new here, she has obviously been chasing pavements, steering clear of the cracks and gaps in the concrete. You never know what will crop up for air from the shallows of hell.

When she finally took a seat, the pub hushed up. The faint red hue of the walls and streets of downtown Limbo hung low like a reminder of how close one was to the eternal embers of Hades. The bartender showed up from behind the shadows and filled a cup with a thick liquid that seemed to fizz like some type of soda. He lifted it a little off the surface of the counter and pushed it towards her. Physics clearly had its horns bent a little here in Limbo. Gravity didn’t work. The cup drifted across the room to her table where she sat gawking at it like a magic act.  The drink was tossing and turning in the cup. It was like an old cat lady setting her weight correctly on the sofa so her 300 cats can perch themselves like pigeons on every strand of hair and fabric she had.The bartender then disappeared into the shadows, like it was an automated slave ghost invented by the drinks themselves.

Looking around, I figured this was no place for Ripper to pull any stunts. Given her back story, she enjoyed poetry. I had a few ideas. I told him to get a piece of paper and write down what I say. He grabbed whatever he could find worth scribbling on, wrote exactly as I said and shoved it in her general direction. It was interesting seeing death himself on his best behavior (and handwriting) for a lady. It sailed through the room like a paper plane and stopped just above the surface of her table. She unfolded it and I could see a faint grin germinating on her face.

Look at the calendar, circle the date,

It’s Thursday, it’s getting late,

Soon, I’ll not be standing at the gate,

Step inside, drive the point home,

Frankly I’m taken by surprise,

How much we put a price,

On people at first sight,

Beauty is like light,

It is reflective as much as it is relative,

You’re only as beautiful as you think you are,

You’re never at peace, till you’re at par

In the dim red light of the horizon of hell I find you,

Over the hills and under the Great Grey Bell you find me,

                                                                                           -:)

….She was impressed.

Just before the end of the first season of reaping, all rippers had a ceremonial break. Like any other release from duty, it was met with merry making. All the rippers meet at the great hall. Meanwhile, Ripper and Cysgod were walking across  the bridge between Uptown Limbo and Heaven. In the middle was a small tower with a great bell atop. The bright colorful lights of heaven reached one side of the bell  and made it glow while the other side remained dark. It was the equivalent of the moon for Limbo. Keeper of the darkness, four phased with a dark side. They stopped just before the tower, it was prohibited to cross the tower unless ferrying a soul into paradise. On both sides of the bridge was a small telescope. It was small enough to hold with one hand but powerful enough to zoom into all creation down below on the lower planes. Rippers considered the affairs of men trivial. They did not interfere, unless to clean up the mess and only while on duty. The existence of men was a stage play, reading off a script the rippers did not write, making what happened there on the lower planes none of their business.

Speaking of reading off of scripts, Ripper guessed she was wondering why he brought her here. It was time to bring in the big guns. Time to judge a book that has no cover.

“I’m tired of running from the grass,

That’s under my feet so I can be alone,

Then I must break the glass ,

And free myself from the sins I must atone,” he whispered.

Sensing some familiarity to what he said, she spoke the first words that came to mind

“But to do that, I have to let this story burn,

Not with one or two or three a sun,

But as many as can fill an urn,”

“I’ve been to many places,

Nothing changes, just the names and the faces,”

He says, speaking less than he should, trying not to give it away.

Now she reads off a very familiar script, almost out of memory,

“Still there are two souls,

Far apart they may be,”

Ripper continues,

” About her I can’t say, eyes with the luster of a pearl,

Deep with a hollow stare, hollow enough to look into your soul,

Deep enough you might get lost in them,

Like going down a rabbit hole,

They are the essence to her beauty,”

“In many a cold night, I look up at the sky,

In your line of sight are two stars in the night”

“Close they may be,

But life has been malevolent,

It is a gift, indeed benevolent,

Not wrapped in boxes and strings,”

“In all this chaos he is her music,

Her keys and strings,

These two live in each other’s stories

very much alive and athrive,”

“Sadly, they are but holograms,

Close enough to share a stare,

Close enough to share a laugh,

But it remains as a stinging ouch,

That they can all but touch,”

“What humans call love,

Is but chemicals in the blood,

They smell it in the air,

Feel it in each other’s bosoms,

It’s so strong, so easy to promise paradise,”

She pauses a little and looks away, perhaps waiting for him to finish.

“It is a blinding lens,” she says. “But what would they do without it? Compassion is enough for beggars. Eternity demands love, these chemicals in the blood. truly there’s peace and comfort in this madness.”

“That was quite a fitting end.” he says. She turns around and starts to walk away towards the hall. “how did you know?” she asks

“How did I know what?”

‘How did you know all of that?”

Ripper shrugs.” I don’t know. All the romanticists and realists I’ve ever met- Picasso, DaVinci, Casanova, Shakespeare…they all had a soft spot in their hearts of stone fortified with reason or those touchy-feely ones with gooey hearts held together with spaghetti. Someone had to write something like that.”

“”And how did you know it would be me?”

“Let’s just say I did my math.” he says and leaves it at that. She takes his hands and tugs at it, leading him away towards the merry. “Wait,” he says. "There’s something I need to do first.” She makes headway and he promises to follow.

“You’ve done well Fred. Wing-man of all time. I will not forget this. "he says and looks away. Something turns inside me. ”It’s time to fulfill my end of the bargain.” While still looking away, he pulls away the black hood. Slowly he turns, inch by inch, ready to show me his face. What I see makes my skin start to itch, then it burns. I want to scratch the pain away but my fingers go right through my body. The pain escalates in intensity like a fire ant eating competition. My knees go weak and I fall to the ground. He strides towards me and tilts my chin upwards. “Yes, I am you.” As quickly as it came, the pain drained away first from my feet then my legs, chest and head. Meanwhile, my ethereal body vaporizes and I feel a soft heat behind me. The lights at the other side of the bell tower flicker brightly and the door swings open. “Go, enter paradise, my friend.” Ripper says as he walks away. ”Our deal is done.”