The Attic

I take the days one at a time without rush or the need to move them along. I enjoy the quiet of my position. I suspect, that had something to do with it being given to me.

  The world has not always been this lonely a place for humans. I remember when petty thieves ruled and the more serious offenders were taken out and put to death immediately following their offense. Now they have rights to lie, steal and kill. They can justify their crimes but when it’s over, I am there to deliver them. It’s then; at that moment I am usually able to tell in which direction they are headed by the smell of their soul. I can even detect the ones who have failed their God and then were cleansed to start over, saved, and for some to no avail. I will never understand the driving force of the evil behind the frailty of a human being.

  I came into the office Alice turned and gave me yet another startle but then there was the breast and her sexy voice. I am still not understanding the attraction to breasts that men seem to have.

  “Good morning Mr. D. How are we today?” She asked propping her right eye up to its socket. “You look good today. New suit?”

  “Thank you Alice. You look rather catching yourself today. This old thing? Gnaw,” I placed a blue Iris on her desk, “Is the boss in yet?”

  “Oh, flowers, what a man Mr. D.,” she held it up to her eye and smiled with her lower jaw hanging from her chin bone. “Are you flirting with me?” She asked.

  “Flirting? Not familiar with that one Alice. Must be a residual of your human state,” I added. The air was strained for the moment but I had no idea why. I just knew it was. “The Boss?”

  “Oh yeah, he’s already been and gone. Want me to leave him a message for you?” Alice leaned on the counter half-assed batting her eye.

  I turned towards the break room and said “It can wait. I’ll check back later on,” and then proceeded into the break room for the morning sales meeting you would call it, we just call it the meeting. This is where we voice concerns, report back on situations and things like that and get our leads, what I call assignments. I don’t drink coffee but it always smells like melting chocolate to me. I don’t eat chocolate either. Smells great but it doesn’t look good at all.

  I pulled my leads out of the box on the wall and flipped through it before the meeting started.

  “Hey D, how’s it goin’ man?” Charlie asked, “You hear about Drummer?”

  “Yeah, that’s a shame. Is he still in there?” I asked. A few more of the guys came over to listen.

  Then one of them spoke out, “Man that sucks. One time I spent an entire month with a kid before he finally got it.”

  “Really? Oh yeah, he can’t come out til he gets that Rex guy to submit and accept the sentences and the Judge’s decision. Man sometimes these people are really hung up on their lives. They just don’t get it; it doesn’t matter any more.”

  “Yeah I hear ya; that’s too bad.”

  We stood around waiting for the final words from the higher up so we could go on with the day. Finally Mr. M came in and the meeting got underway.

  “Good morning Deaths. There seems to be some confusion as to what you can and cannot do to human beings. We are not Gods nor are we Judges and Juries to these people. Our soul position is to collect and deliver. That’s it. If they are in your District then collect them and deliver them to their destination. Is this understood?” The man looked around the room looking for hands, tails, whatever to indicate a question to be answered. “Are there any questions? If not then I will assume everyone within hearing range understood. Fine, let’s continue.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was talking about me or not, or referring to the Ed incident out in the woods. I noted that I must be more careful in front of the collected. He continued talking to the newbie’s and the rest of us were dismissed to go our way.

  As I headed out I saw several of the guys headed for a bar down the street. I was curious and had a light schedule for the day so I followed. Charlie, Mack, and Brewer went on in and sat down at the bar. There were only a few guys playing pool in the back and a couple of kids playing pinball, a punked out girl and a wannabe gangster boy.

  The men playing pool had a few friends sitting on the side nursing a pitcher of beer and smoking. Kind of smelled like pot but who knows. My nose works better on dead souls than live ones. We’ll have to see how this plays out. It wasn’t my assignment and I had an hour to kill so-to-say.

  The front door swung open and some rough necks stomped in. The bartender looked up in time to see one of them hop over the bar and grab him by the front of his shirt. The bartender seemed to be in his late forties and the other guy maybe early thirties. The guys with him a bit younger.

  “Hey, I hear you do quite a business in here old man. Is that right?” he asked the bartender then looked back at his buds and laughed. I always wonder why these thug types think they are all so amusing, even funny.

“I do okay,” the bartender replied hold his head up so not to be choked by the twisted shirt under his neck. Hummer and Duke came over to the bar sizing them up…this was definitely their assignment. The man holding the bartender saw the girls in the back and let go of the bartender. In that moment the bartender reached for the shot gun and all hell broke loose. Flashes of gun fire and yelling and screaming rang out. When it was over two lay dead on the floor near the front door. One made it out the door but was hit in his shoulder. He would need medical treatment but that was not out problem. The police would pick him up later at the hospital.

I looked at the clock on the wall and it was time for me to go to Mrs. Wheeler’s house so we could wait for the repair man. Her regular man had recently retired and she asked a new neighbor to help her out. He was all too willing; I remember the day they had the conversation. She’d never known anyone like this guy and unfortunately will never meet another.

Esther reminded me of Virgie but even more naïve and unaware of the dangers in her world. Lately she’d been a nervous wreck with the threatening phone calls late in the night. She told the police about them but they thought she was just wanting attention, being old and all. This guy was a real charmer. Ester’s hair was ruby red, short and well coiffed. Every Friday was hair day and she never missed an appointment straight up eleven o’clock am. A shampoo, rinse, curl and comb out. That was her routine.

The doorbell rang and Esther got up to answer the door. She opened the door and there he stood. “Hello Joe, please come in.”

Joe smiled, closed the door behind him, and lowered the shade. Esther never saw it coming as he hit her over the back of her head and bludgeoned her senseless. She was still alive when he repeatedly took her but she went in and out of conscientiousness. Even though I turned my back to them to wait; I knew every evil thing he was doing.

If I could have stopped him I would have. About like if I could have been physically ill I would have done that too. This man has killed before. Many times in fact and many more to come I am afraid. I do not see him being stopped any time soon.

Joe came out of the bedroom and went into the kitchen, got a knife, then went and cut her heart out and put it in a bowl. He put his pants back on, grabbed the bowl and left.

A few moments later Esther came out of the bedroom. “Did you do this?” She asked looking at her clothes red with blood. “I can’t remember. I remember answering the door and then not much after that. What’s going on here?”

“Ma’am I am afraid I have some bad news and after I tell you I hope then you’ll understand.” I could see she wasn’t going to take this easily as she turned her head slightly tilted towards the ceiling.

“What kind of bad news,” she asked taking a step closer.

“There’s been an accident Esther and I am afraid you did not survive. Do you understand?”

Esther stood there thinking about the situation. “And you are? Besides standing in my living room, you are?”

“I am your deliverer Esther. I’ve come to take you home. There’s no sense in going over it all again. Look in the mirror.” She paused her searching eyes and directed them to the mirror in the hallway. She walked up to it and placed her aged hands on the glass smearing it with her own blood. “I see,” she said. “I will have to change before I go.”

I placed my arm around her and whispered in her ear to calm her fears, “Its okay Esther, we’re just going home; it’s okay.” I escorted her back to my office to leave with the other suddenly departed before they changed their minds about going on. This happens more than not because once the shock wears off they dig their heels in and you’ve got one heck of a fight with the older ones; especially the women.

My next stop would be across town in an addition called Riverbend. Nice homes and upscale living professionals abounded. A man named Lonnie Leroy had been having mild cardiac infarctions ignored the signs and continued playing golf.

A few doors down from Lonnie’s home was a woman backing out of her driveway. She was in a terrible hurry when she felt a thud under her tires so she stopped to get out and take a look. It was her five year old son and his bike. Realizing what she’d done, she called 911 and broke down. When I arrived her boy Daniel was sleeping peacefully and woke up to greet me.

“Hi, I’m Daniel. Why is my mommy crying? Why can’t she see me any more?” He asked.

I stood there looking at Daniel then back at his mother and for a moment I thought I felt something. My eyes seemed itchy, like I had something in them. That’s right, both of them. I shook it off and extended my hand to him. He reached for it instinctively as we waited together for the Coroner. His mother sat beside the driveway on the grass, sobbing surrounded by her neighbors.

Later that evening we went over to the Church on the Rock where Lonnie Leroy and his family would be seated on the third pew of the Wednesday night service. Lonnie started balding at an early age and was quite a ladies man.

It was a charismatic non-denominational church with very powerful electric sermons. Lonnie was a retired high pressure, hard sell insurance salesman, owned his own company. He made millions in his lifetime but lived mentally poor. He always was out to own the world but he thought first; he’d have to buy it. Lonnie lived in a fancy neighborhood with doctors and lawyers but he was self made and proud of it. They were old money and Lonnie would never measure up to them no matter how hard he tried. A perfect example would be that he drove the newest and best Mercedes made but held on to his old black velvet, tacky framed Elvis pictures. You just can’t buy class.

Lonnie usually slept through the services with an occasional elbow from his young wife. He was thirty years her senior but she was quite the compliment on his arm to the rest of the congregation.

About halfway through the sermon Lonnie let out a brief snore, a whimper, then slumped over just a tad. His wife nudged him but he didn’t move a muscle on his own, just forward a bit from the gravity of it all. She just ignored him through the rest of the service snickering to those around her from time to time.

Lonnie got up and looked at himself then looked at me.

“Is that really me?” He looked back and forth from himself back to me.

“Yep, that would be you at every service. Peaceful huh?”

“Peaceful? Is that what you call it?” He was mortified seeing himself sleeping through the sermon and then he realized that it was quite an accurate picture of himself to those around him. “She never even noticed.”

 Afterwards they greeted the people around them with a neighborly handshake in a peace offering to each other. Lonnie just sat there. Finally his wife noticed he wasn’t breathing.

“Oh my God, my husband’s not breathing!” That’s all it took for the congregation to stop the service and gather around. Someone laid him out on the pew but there was nothing left anyone could do. Lonnie was gone. His widow sat there holding his hand on the third row of the Church on the Rock church.

Lonnie and I walked out of the church with him shaking his head. He had a bad habit of rearranging his private parts any where he felt like it; like no one could see him. Strange but interesting. So, to follow suit in death his traits in life, he did so while he was trying to figure out what would happen next. I stopped dead in my tracks, of course, turned to him and said.

“Has anyone ever told you how annoying that is and in front of the child?” He had this genuine look of ignorance all over his face, He continued to explain.

“Sure. My friends and family, but I never saw what it hurt. It was out of necessity. They didn’t have to look, you know? My self being quite endowed and all, it was necessary. Just isn’t right having them all bunched up or hanging out. Keeping ‘em together, that’s all. Now, I have a lot of questions. Like the third pew positioning. Is it true that provides me a closer walk to the mansion? I would have bought one closer but they were all sold out by the time I’d heard about it. It wasn’t about the money. I want Him to know; it was never about the money. The way I see it, I should get some kind of credit here…there should be some margin for making an effort…”

I rolled his eyes and the corner of my mouth curled up, and let out a gentle sigh. Lonnie had everyone’s undivided attention. Even the five year old was listening attentively. Lonnie was a talker and I could tell it was not going to be a quiet or simple transition.