The Stalker, Part 4

Dumpy’s boss snorted in disgust, noting the projectile on her screen, but he did grasp what had happened and was glad that he had stopped by. He was always looking to reduce the department’s headcount, but doing it that way always struck him as extreme. He questioned April about what had happened and confirmed that she was now fine. He ran to get her a bottle of water. He also grabbed the Windex and paper towels so she could see through her monitor again.

Death was beside himself. Inconsolable. Not only would April live to play again another day, BUT she was on guard now- might be pondering that someone really is out to get her. Plus, he may as well hang up his scythe right now, and he didn’t t even want to think about what Deader was going to do to him in retaliation for interrupting her favorite recreational activity of an island hopping golf scramble. She could be so mean when her month-long binges were disturbed—especially if she thought the reason for the disruption was lame. And there was no doubt that she would think that, because it was Death’s sheer incompetence that would be interrupting her. Again. She had sworn to him last time that if his ineptitude cost her any more of her hard-earned time off, he would pay dearly and forever.

Death sulked in the window. He blotted out all hints of the brilliant sunshine without, making the pane black as night. While he was not visible to the naked eye—nor the clothed one—the river of tears flowing from what would be his eyes if he were in traditional human form, were visible. April headed over to investigate why water was pouring from the windowsill like a mountain waterfall during spring runoff. Death was so distraught that he did not even notice that April was kneeling directly in front of him floating a paper boat in the unexplained, indoor river—within strangling distance. Since he had given up all pretense of subtly, strangling her would have easily accomplished his goal of ending her life, and his quest. But, alas, he missed the easiest opportunity of the day. Story of his post-death life.

By the time he realized the opportunity before him, it was a memory. He began trying to pull himself together so he was somewhat presentable when Deader arrived. He would need his wits about him; else, she would eviscerate him on the spot. She might well do that anyway, it was a crapshoot.

April was thanking her lucky stars, and coming to the realization that maybe it was not her lucky day, as she had almost knowingly died twice within the past two hours. She realized the possibility that she could have unknowingly cheated death a few more times already and then sat down heavily to ponder this. However, maybe it was her luckiest day, after all. Maybe she could not die today. Testing that theory would require much more thought, not to mention a level of courage that she doubted she possessed. She’ would put that one on the back burner and come back to it later. No, she would banish the entire concept- she was just having a bad day, no invisible force was trying to kill her. Accepting that possibility, that someone/something was trying to kill her opened up doors in her mind that led down hallways that she refused to acknowledge. It was not possible. She was just unlucky followed by unbelievably lucky. Twice. That is all there was to it. It was all there could be.

A startling sound from the windows interrupted her reverie. Thunderclaps echoed throughout the cube farm. The sounds came from the darkened window and April swore that she saw several lightning bolts, but she knew she was indoors and that it was a beautiful day outside. April’s mind raced. It was overloaded with emotion from the two near death incidents and now from sights and sounds coming from inside the window. She collapsed in her chair in a dead faint.

Death missed this opportunity also, as he was being ‘schooled’ by Deader in how to do his job. It appears that she was midway though the twelfth round of the tournament, which with Deader means twelve cases of beer into the festival (it was a weeklong tournament that started early), and that hole was on Maui. She loved Maui and was not the least bit happy at being summoned to do the job of a worthless minion. She let Death know if no uncertain terms that he would be her caddy for eternity for this one. She carried a lot of clubs, and beer. And, she took them everywhere, not just to the golf course. She liked to be ready at all times, for all things, and thus had a host of demoted minions following her around as she flounced about the world pretending to do spot checks and train those of her staff who needed it. The minion carrying the golf/beer bag was ecstatic. He could not thrust the gargantuan golf bag onto Death’s back soon enough. Then he pranced around doing a happy dance that would have energized the most lifeless of the Buffalo Bills offensive players. Death, physically burdened on top of the mental anguish he had been suffering collapsed in the corner sniveling.

Deader got right to work. She filleted Death for his incompetence and then squared her drunken and quite broad shoulders, cape flying overhead. She pounced over to April, still passed out. She towered over her chair screeching her frustration at Death’s incompetence and April’s resilience in infrasonic waves that April could not hear, but would definitely have felt, were she awake and not hopped up on Benadryl and snickers bars. Heck, she should have felt it anyway.

Deader, used to her minions and every human she encountered quailing in front of her when she spoke, though they never had any idea why they were trembling in fear, was taken aback. April was non-responsive. Her breath came in a steady rhythm, but she was not absorbing anything that Deader was sending her way. This was unusual and made Deader stop to think. Normally, even when they were sleeping, Deader could see the fright on the faces and bodies of the folks receiving her less-than-welcome attentions, but this time there was no response.

Deader waved the back of her hand at April, backhanding April’s head. Nothing. That should have snapped her neck instantly. But it did not. Maybe it was not purely incompetence at work here. Deader kicked April in the shin- the most accessible part of her, as she was still in her chair. No response. No sign of any physical pain whatsoever. Death ventured over, dragging Deader’s golf clubs behind him. As a minion, he had little physical power over his consignees, that is why he had to manipulate their worldly circumstances to kill them. However, he could, if he really, really concentrated, hurt people physically from within his realm. Death picked up a stapler, wound up like a beefed-up Roger Clemens, and pitched it at April’s body. It glanced off before it even struck her.

This was something that he had never seen before, but that did not mean much. He did not get out much and only knew the things that happened to him (and those he killed) by rote. But Deader had seen a lot more than he, frankly had been around a lot longer, though she hated when he pointed that out. She did not like what she was not seeing here.

Deader gave it one last try- she pulled out her 189-iron (bigger course and much more powerful players than we humans are used to) and she whacked April’s sleeping form with it. Sparks flew as the club ricocheted off April’s motionless form and back at Deader with more force than she had swung it with and she screamed as she let it go. The last that they saw of the 189-iron, it was sailing through the air high over the parking lot. April, in blissful repose on her chair, smiled, just a tiny bit, at the corners of her mouth.

Deader and Death huddled over by the window, careful, despite not being in physical forms, to avoid the puddles that remained of Death’s earlier uncontrollable crying jag. They spoke briefly about what they were seeing. Deader had to go to her home base to do some research on deathipedia to try to figure out why April could not be touched. In addition, she had to ask some of the elders if they had any ideas or if they had seen such a thing before. Deader dissipated and Death, dragging Deader’s clubs behind him, as though they were some kind of dead animal, followed meekly.

April sat up and smiled. She felt refreshed.


Copyright 2007 Antigone Lett. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.