He Comes Knocking

Geraldine Rutgers had her routine. Since retiring from the local police force some years ago - the exact number was long forgotten to Geraldine now - Ms. Rutgers occupied her days in the sprawling garden outside and her nights, sat before the fireplace, her calico Topsy in her lap, watching the flames dance before she eventually took to bed once more. It was a quiet, unremarkable routine, but Geraldine was a quiet, unremarkable woman. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The harsh rapping at her bedroom window on a late, stormy evening in May had no place in Geraldine’s life. The sudden noise shot through the house like a bullet, waking Ms. Rutgers from her half-asleep state with a jolt and sending Topsy darting for the cold, linoleum kitchen in fright. After rubbing her eyes, Geraldine craned her neck, eyeing her bedroom with suspicion. With only the blazing fireplace for light, though, the rest of her cottage was cast into a nondescript darkness that concealed the source of the unwelcome disturbance.

Muttering to herself, Geraldine painfully lifted herself from her overstuffed armchair, arthritic knees creaking with the effort. She hobbled to the window scornfully. Outside, despite the raging winds and the sheets of icy rain, a figure stood just beyond the glass, waiting, eyes staring through the window pane and into Geraldine’s soul. A chill ran down her spine.

If the stranger were a passerby that had simply lost his way, he was a fool. The streets were neat and orderly, and even the slightest research on some device should set him straight. If his presence here was someone’s idea of a prank, Geraldine was not amused. She’d lived a long life in service to her town; she had most certainly earned the right to enjoy her evenings in peace.

The stranger was still standing outside, though, and his gaunt frame seemed ready to snap with every powerful gust the universe sent his way. With a scoff, Geraldine nodded towards the front door. The stranger nodded back before darting to the front of the house.

Once certain the man was stood on her front porch, Geraldine peered through the peephole, tentatively taking in the strange man’s appearance before daring to invite him inside. He was tall, lanky, nearly skeletal in build; his hollow face and round, staring eyes were paler than the hair on her head. But she opened the door despite his odd appearance, and the stranger gave a wide, toothy grin that put Geraldine at peace in an instant. Despite his tattered, water-logged clothes and his horrid, deathly frame, the man brought with him an essence of calm that she appreciated.

“Thank you, ma’am,” the stranger said as he stepped into the entryway, a trail of water droplets falling in his wake. “Nasty weather, this. Always gets me turned around.”

“You shouldn’t be walking in a storm like this in the first place,” Geraldine scolded. She watched in silence as the stranger invited himself further inside, the glow of the fireplace impossible to ignore. It was clear the storm had shaken him. “Take off that jacket before you catch a cold. I’ll fetch us some tea from the kitchen.”

As Geraldine went about setting up a spread of tea and cakes before the fire, the stranger discarded his drenched layers as she had commanded, hanging each beside the fire with care. The two sat down across from one another, Geraldine in her chair and the stranger on the floor, and Geraldine poured each a steaming mug of tea. “Now then, what on Earth are you doing outside on a night like this?”

“Important business, ma’am,” the man replied, gratefully accepting the mug Geraldine offered him. “I’m to meet a friend this evening.”

“In this weather? Hogwash.” Geraldine grasped the dainty china mug with both hands. Her hands shook dangerously at the best of times, and more so when the cold set in, but the warmth from the tea was one of the few luxuries Geraldine would allow herself. That, a cozy fire, and a timid feline to stroke was all she needed as far as she was concerned. “Your friend will appreciate that such a meeting is impossible tonight, I’m certain. Drink your tea.”

The stranger took a long sip from his own mug. “Unfortunately, I simply cannot rearrange this meeting. Deadlines and whatnot. I’m sure you understand.”

Geraldine shook her head. “Nonsense. I used to be like you, back in my day - live to work, work to live. It does a person no good. You must take time for yourself.”

“You’re a wise woman, Geraldine. And you make a fine cup of tea.”

That comment caught Geraldine Rutgers off-guard. Curious, she raised a brow. “You know who I am? Can I take it that our meeting is no accident then?”

“Indeed.”

Geraldine furrowed her brow. “And what did you say this work of yours was, exactly? I certainly hope it won’t ruin our tea.”

The stranger ran a skeletal finger along the rim of his mug, a comfortable smile playing on his lips. “I don’t see why it should. I’m in… Let’s call it real estate.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that. As I’m sure you can see, this home is perfectly pleasant. I’ve no plans to leave it.”

“Not that kind of real estate, ma’am. Not the kind that a person seeks out.” The man chuckled to himself, garnering another stern look from Geraldine. “Consider me to be a grim reaper of sorts, Ms. Rutgers. A spirit guide to the land beyond.”

Geraldine pressed her thin lips together. The joke still did not amuse her, if it were a joke at all - the man’s face gave little away, from what she could see. “A grim reaper that can’t navigate in the rain? Sounds like a rather pathetic excuse for a spirit guide.”

At this, the man’s grin dropped. “I’m- Look, I only just got the job, okay? This is my first ever shift. You’re my first ever client . I’ll admit, I’m still learning the trade, but there’s no need-”

“My apologies, hon,” Ms. Rutgers cut in, resting a hand on the stranger’s. The stranger looked her in the eyes with surprise. “We all started somewhere, please don’t let yourself be discouraged by me. You’re doing a perfectly fine job.”

“Well.. Thank you, ma’am.” The man bowed his head shamefully. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I realize my work can be intimidating, and I hoped I could make the process more comfortable. Only when I couldn’t find the front door....”

Clicking her tongue, Geraldine stood from the armchair. “No bother, hon. I’ve had a lovely time. And I’m more than ready to pass on-” She frowned. “Oh, dear… I don’t suppose Topsy could join us?”

“Topsy? The cat?” The stranger retrieved a folded scrap of paper from his pant’s pocket and scanned the immaculate calligraphy within. “He’s not on the list, I’m afraid. I probably shouldn’t-”

“Ah. A shame.” Geraldine smiled to the kitchen; a small, calico head had emerged from around the corner, curious about the commotion in the living room. “She’s a good girl. She’ll make another family very happy.”

Geraldine walked to the simple gold mirror that stood beside the front door. In it’s reflection, she could see that her plain face had already begun to face. Sighing, she adjusted her bun one final time before turning back to the stranger. “We should depart, I suppose. I’m sure you have much more important clients to see tonight.”

The stranger rested a hand on Geraldine’s shoulder. “Not at all, Ms. Rutgers. I have other clients, it’s true, but I assure you none are more important than you.” With that, the stranger gently took a hold of Geraldine’s and led her through the front door, leaving behind only an alarmed Topsy and a rain-soaked jacket hanging near the fire, dripping onto the worn carpet below until long after the storm had subsided.