I'll Be Death For A Little While.

I think that everyone can be perceived differently depending on who's looking. 

There is really only one kind of person that is universally perceived. That would be the truly ugly. I’m speaking from experience. To be clear I don't mean plain or scruffy. I’ve made my peace with having an appearance that makes people startle back. My mother told me the doctors at my birth had handed me over and told her I was perfectly healthy in the most confused tone one could imagine. 

Mom and I might live on a tight budget but she had inherited a nice small home and we lived well, all things considered. Being in package delivery wasn't so bad. 

Weather depending.

I had powered through my lunch today. No need to take an hour when I only had a few stops left and could wrap up my whole shift right after. My work truck rambled along down the worn road to the edge of town. It was morbid to put the bright and lively old folks home next to the cemetery but the ride there was quite charming. 

Arriving at the “Carlstone Care Home” was probably depressing for most people but it put a small pep in my step. The nurses there saw the reality of the human body all day and the residents were either too blind or too far gone to have much of an opinion on me. Unless there was someone new, it was about as close to being treated normal as I got. 

Pedro, the head nurse was searching for something at the front desk and besides the usual double take people do I was given an absent “Hello Riley, someone got a package today?” and waved me through. I tucked my clipboard under my arm and gripped the small plain shipping box.

The yellow lighting offset the white floors but the colors were balanced by cheerful blue walls and bright hanging art. I strolled through the hallways before finding a door with the correct name tag.

 Maybe the tap of my footsteps on the linoleum floor alerted the people inside the room I was heading for. The door was propped open from the inside and a young teen girl's head popped out of the doorway. She opened her mouth to say something but as she laid eyes on me it turned into a startled yelp and her head disappeared into the room. 

“Kelsey?” I heard a new woman's voice ask and in short order, a tired-looking woman stepped out of the doorway to see what was happening. I was prepared in advance and held the package out in front of me and was able to cut off the unasked question.

“I have a package delivery for Mrs. Virginia Monroe? I need a signature, it was shipped express.” 

In credit to the tired-looking woman she pulled her gaze away from my harsh features and focused on the package, pushing frazzled dark bangs out of her eyes. “I didn’t know anything was coming. Does it say who it's from?” 

“Who is it? A visitor?”

An elderly woman's voice called from the room with all the insistence of the old and stubborn. The doorway revealed part of a standard small apartment with beeping machines next to what was probably a bed hosting the yelling woman. I was supposed to ask if the woman in front of me was a family member but It seemed self-evident. 

The woman in front of me shifted on her feet in tired frustration, choosing to ignore who I assumed was Mrs. Virgina Monroe. 

“Someone brought you a package, Grandma! Mail!” The teen - Kelsey - hollered back into the room loudly. “The girl, looking tired as was dressed in sweats. She stepped fully out of the room with hands out, ready to take the box and shooting looks at me as she tried to subtly take in my appearance.

“Sorry yes, I can sign for it.” The woman in front of me reached for the clipboard under my arm. The package disappeared from my hands as the teenager took it, standing closer to her mother in what I assume was a natural response to how uncomfortable people feel around me. 

“Come on in, It’s wonderful of you to stop by!” The elderly voice echoed out. 

The woman sighed and thanked me, handing back the clipboard. I waved, as my smile usually put people off, and pulled my tracker off my belt to mark the order. Both family members returned to the room. 

The was a flurry of noise from the other side of the doorway and after a moment I heard raised voices echoing back into the hallway.

“You’re trying to keep people from me Liz,  but I can have guests over if I want! Don't treat me like a child!” Older folks can get like that towards the end as their grasp on reality slips.

“Mom, you need to stay in bed!” 

 Pour some coffee and get a chair for my visitor. I was expecting them!”

After some deliberation, I decided I felt too bad to just leave things, and I took a few steps forward, leaning slightly into the doorway. I tried to keep as much of myself out of sight so it didn’t look like I was ‘lurking’ as my mother liked to call it. 

“Just making sure that package made it,” I called. My voice is been unusually deep, and I made sure to keep it gentle. “Would you like me to send a nurse over?”

Liz had her hand on her mother - who was trying to twist her legs over the side of the bed. I saw now that there was the original teen girl- still holding the box as well as a younger boy. Maybe 10 or so the boy’s eyes were huge as he shuffled in place in front of the chair he must have just stood up from. He kept shooting his mother looks, to make sure she was also seeing me in all my misshapen glory.

The elderly woman was frozen in place sitting up in her bed.  Her eyes squinting and un-squinting as she looked at me with deep black irises. Age had made her form sort of crumple in on itself but I could tell she probably had been a small round-faced person in her youth, similar to her daughter and grandkids standing around her.

“So you’re here after all.” The old woman's voice was surprisingly slow and serious and she obligingly laid back against the propped-up pillows as Liz nudged her. I felt a butterfly of relief that her sight seemed to be too bad to fully take in my warped appearance. At least I thought so seeing as she never took her eyes off me.

“Grandma, do you want your blanket?” The boy asked unsure, hovering while shooting stunned looks at me. The old woman paused and then gave a warm look to her grandson, making a shooing motion at him. “Thank you, Jonah, Your mothers got it. Move aside so our guest can sit down.

I had been waiting for an answer on if they wanted a nurse but I looked up in surprise.. 

“Right here dear, I’m sorry about them.” With all the grace of the lady of a manor inviting old friends into her parlor, I was directed to the armchair next to the half-inclined bed hosting a small Elderly woman. I shuffled my feet, glancing at Liz in askance. She gave me an apologetic look and after a moment I found myself taking slow steps over to the seat. 

I cleared my throat “Mrs. Virgina Monroe?” 

I had recalled her name from the package and Mrs. Monroe closed her eyes and breathed deeply, nodding more to herself than my question. 

“So you finally came for me. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” Mrs. Monroe's voice had the warbles of age and she spoke softly. I turned my head to Liz who was looking sadly at her mother, the open curtains casting a light on her that emphasized the sorrow lines on her face. It seemed Mrs. Monroe’s grasp on reality was weakening. To be honest it wasn’t common for me to be greeted with such serious warmth as this old woman.

 I took a seat. 

“I hope I’m not intruding,” I said softly, willing to be an old friend for a while. 

Mrs. Monroe shot me a dry look, “I Imagine death comes in his own time.” 

“That seems to be the case,” I replied tentatively, unsure what else to say.

The elderly woman straightened her back, leaning against the pillows with her hands crossed gently in her lap. She turned her head briefly to her small family standing on the other side of the bed and smiled at them with such warmth she looked like a fairy tale queen. Then she laid her silver head back against the pillows and turned back to me. 

“I always hoped I would greet death again as a friend. I am quite ready now, I think. Thank you for waiting this long for me.”

My stomach dropped as I took in her words and I felt my eyebrows go up, a look I knew made my face seem unnaturally long. I heard a breath of a shocked laugh from the teen and panicked shushing from her mother. 

I was still as my mind whirled. I had been called all sorts of things in my life. I had a long stretched frame with a flat chest and perpetual pot belly. My extended neck giving me the appearance of a hunch was enough to have children sincerely ask me if I was some monster or other. That was just the tip of the iceberg in the ways my body just appeared wrong.

I’d never been called the Grim Reaper before though. 

With such sincerity too

 I could feel the weight of old dark eyes waiting on me with-seemingly, all the time in the world. I honestly wasn't sure how to respond. I could feel the air thick with horrified shame as everyone seemed to clue into what was happening.

 Liz’s frantic whispers of “Jonah no” were audible over her son whispering “Why do they look like that? Is nobody going to say it?” Even his older sister looked horrified by the pressure of the elephant in the room. 

How do you tell a dying woman that you’re not death come to reap her soul, you’re just really ugly? Before I could think better of it, I huffed out a laugh and as if it was in direct response to her, Mrs. Monrow’s face lightened and she smiled back at me.

“You’re right to laugh at me. I suppose calling us friends might be a stretch. I got the feeling I’d see you again after you came for Dan. “ Mrs Monroe's voice grew louder even as her eyes seemed to see less. 

“Telling myself that the burden of his passing was just between me and Death made me feel better, I think. ” Her voice was so calm and serious I couldn't think of a single thing to say. 

“Thank you, is what I mean.” She concluded, inclining her head to me regally. 

I was perched uncomfortably in the armchair and could see the 3 members of Mrs. Monroe's family quietly arguing with each other. The urge to jump in and explain I was just bringing a package was there, but I think we could all feel the heavy emotional weight of whatever Mrs. Monroe was talking about. 

“You have nothing to thank me for.” I said honestly, “I’m happy to see you and your family doing so well.”

 I could see Liz standing on the other side of her mother looking like she couldn't decide if she should intervene and I suddenly got the impression that this might be the most ‘with it’ Mrs. Monroe had been in some time. Case of mistaken identity aside. 

Mrs. Monroe paused to process what I had said. Then she sat up a bit from her pillows and rotated her body to face me better, reaching out an old wrinkled hand that I took after warring with myself a bit. She used her other hand to pat mine and looked at me with an intensity I wasn't sure how to handle. 

“ I am sure you have seen it all. I want you to know that the strength you gave me as Dan was dying means everything. My family is here and safe and I honestly thought you would come for me or my children before that man. I don’t know how often you’ve been told ’Thank You’ but please know I have waited this whole time to tell you.”

The emotional weight of her tone of voice was more than I knew could be put on me. I suddenly felt overwhelming pressure not to let this woman down. It would be more honest to poke the taboo topic and just explain I am hard to look at instead of death himself. As I thought about it I really felt like there was only one thing I could say. 

“You’re Welcome.”

That seemed to be enough.