Call Me Grim (7 page)

His words drift on the air between us. Slowly, I nod. It makes perfect sense.

“I’m not as bright as everyone else. Actually, I’m not bright at all.” I’m speaking more to myself than to Aaron, but he nods in agreement. “My time is out, isn’t it? That’s why Max is so much brighter than me. I was supposed to die today. I was supposed to be squashed by Jason’s truck.”

“That’s right.” He beams as if I figured out a complex calculus problem he didn’t think I’d ever understand. “You would be dead right now if I hadn’t stepped in. Your death has been rescheduled to tomorrow, exactly twenty-four hours from when you were supposed to die today.”

“What?” I stagger back a step. “I’m scheduled to die tomorrow?” I thought when he saved my life today that was it. I didn’t think I’d have to worry about tomorrow.

“Yes.” He bends and plucks a long blade of grass growing between the ties of the tracks. “I don’t know how it will happen—it depends on where you are and what you’re doing—but it will come.” He looks up at me, and he must see the panic in my eyes because he smiles and says, “Don’t worry. I’ll be there to stop it.”

“Why?” It’s a stupid question to ask. He’s offering to save my life. Again. And I’m scared as hell to hear his answer, but I have to know. “Why didn’t you let that truck pulverize me today, Aaron? Why did you save my life? And why would you save it again tomorrow?”

“You’re a smart girl. I thought you’d have figured it out by now.”

“Maybe I want to hear you say it.” I give him the scorching glare Kyle calls my “no-bullshit stare.”

Aaron twists the grass around his finger and sighs. “I need a replacement. There’s something I need to do that I can’t do without a replacement, and I thought you might want the job.”

“Why would you think that?” I ask. It’s not like I’m emo. I don’t need an entire drawer dedicated to my various shades of black lipstick.

“It’s just good timing.” He shrugs.

“Good timing? That’s it?” I cross my arms and glare at him. “Maybe I don’t want your job. What if I say you can shove it up your—”

“If that’s your decision,” he cuts me off. “Then tomorrow, at 3:12 p.m., you’ll die and there will be nothing I can do about it.”

My legs jiggle under me, and I almost collapse at his feet. I lock my knees before I topple over onto the tracks like a melodramatic damsel in distress.

“Are you okay?” Aaron grips my shoulder. “You look like you’re gonna puke.”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m fine. Let go of me.” I shrug him off, but his eyes bore into me.

I don’t want his job. It sounds morbid and scary and better suited for a chick with dyed black hair. I can’t even watch a horror flick without my hand over my eyes half of the time. But I don’t want to die either. And Aaron doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would mess around with something like this. He is Death, after all.

“So, what if I say I’ll do it?” I’m still light-headed, but at least I’m not in danger of going face-first into the railroad tracks.

“Then we start your training.” Aaron’s eyes twinkle with excitement. “The sooner the better. Once you say you’ll take the job, you only have a week to learn how to do it. And there’s a lot to learn.”

“Fine. I’ll take the—”

“Shhh.” He places a finger over my lips. “Before you say it, I’m obligated to tell you what it’s like being a Reaper. It’s part of the rules. But remember this: I can only save your life twice. Your death will be rescheduled each time. And if you don’t decide before the last rescheduled time, you’ll die.”

“The accident counted as the first?”

“Yes. And at 3:12 p.m. tomorrow I can save your life for the second time. Which means, if you decide not to take the job, you will die on Saturday—”

“At 3:12, sharp. I get it.” My knees turn to rubber again, but I manage to hold myself up. “So I have until 3:12 on Saturday to decide.”

“Exactly.” He’s giving me the proud teacher look again, and I feel like I’m about to hurl all over his shoes.

In just a few hours, my life has changed. Forever. No matter what I decide, it will never be the same. Everything I’ve wanted. All of my hopes, dreams, and plans for the future. Gone.

“Just one more question before you start your sales pitch.” I keep the vomit where it belongs and try to rub some warmth into my arms. Wind or no wind, I’m shivering. “I already asked you this, but you didn’t answer. Why me? Why not ask one of the other dim bulbs in this town? I can’t be the only one who’s about to burn out. There must be dozens. Why not ask Rosie?”

“Because she’s too old. Abaddon only accepts Reapers who are eighteen or younger.” He shrugs. “There aren’t any other kids scheduled to die soon. So, it has to be you or I don’t know how much longer I’ll have to wait.”

“For what? What do you need to do?”

“Never mind,” Aaron says. “It’s personal.” He yanks at the hem of his navy blue T-shirt. It’s a shirt I’d expect Kyle to wear, not Death.

A high-pitched whistle cuts through the night. My right foot rests on the rail. It’s been vibrating for a while, but I just now notice. The train that sometimes startles me out of sleep is about to make an appearance. Right on schedule.

I move my foot off the rail and take a few steps back. The gravel slips out from under me and I skid down the incline backwards, arms wind-milling. Aaron catches my hand and steadies me. His skin is warm, his grip solid. He leads me to a pile of old railroad ties at the edge of the woods, far enough away from the tracks to be safe from the speeding train, but still a little too close for me to feel comfortable.

The whistle pierces my skull again. The train is close. The tracks rumble as the headlight rounds the corner. The blast of wind from the engine as it passes blows me back into the pile of old wood, and I sit down hard. Something stabs the back of my leg, but I’m not about to grope my own butt for splinters in front of Aaron.

“So, what was the fight with your mom about?” Aaron yells over the roar of the train. He settles next to me on the plank as if the hurricane-force wind is a light breeze.

“I don’t know. Stuff.” I’m not paying attention to him. I’ve never been this close to a speeding train before, and I’m focused on the wind, the rails, and the solid wall of metal moving in front of me. Anything to distract me from the insanity Aaron just told me, even if it’s only for a few minutes. I stretch my neck to look for the caboose.

“Like what stuff?” he says, and I stop looking for the end of the train to frown at him.

“My life sucks right now, okay?” If he can cry “too personal,” so can I. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The caboose finally turns the corner and the engine’s lonely whistle sounds in the distance.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Well, it is.” I cross my arms over my chest. My jaw aches. I’m gritting my teeth. “And it’s none of your business, really.”

“You have friends, a brother, and a mother who care for you. Plus, you just won first place in the school art show.” He scratches at a spot on his jeans and then meets my eyes. “I wanted to tell you last night that I think you’re really talented, Libbi. I mean, amazingly talented. I’d like to see more of your work.”

“Thanks,” I say, but he can’t win me over that easily.

The train is gone, but the after-breeze ruffles Aaron’s hair. The moonlight accentuates the sharp angles of his face, and I briefly imagine sketching those lines. He drags a long finger across my pale knuckles.

“So tight,” he says, and I reflexively loosen my fist. The cool metal of his thumb ring chills my skin as he curls his fingers around my hand and squeezes. I’m surprised when I squeeze him back.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You’re right. I shouldn’t assume your life is good.”

“Yeah, well, remember that.” I pull my hand out from under his. “So, are you gonna tell me the wonders of being a Reaper, or what?”

He stands from the pile of wood and offers me his hand. I push up without taking it.

“Actually, it is a pretty awesome gig.” That shit-eating grin returns to his face. “But there are a few things that might not appeal to everyone. And before you say you’ll take the job, I have to tell you about it.”

“Fine. Enlighten me.” I look up at his bruised chin, his full lips, his pale blue eyes. He starts to walk and I follow.

“Well, first of all, you’ll see somebody die, several times a week, and sometimes more than once a day, like today with you and Rosie. Some deaths are peaceful and quiet, like Rosie’s. But some aren’t. And sometimes, if you could change one little thing, you could save their lives.” Aaron shakes his head. “But you can’t.”

“Why not? You did with me.” I turn to face him. We’re back on the train tracks again.

“Yeah, because you can take over for me. That’s the exception to the rule. I can only save the life of someone who can take over for me. Abaddon’s rules are very strict, and I’m not about to take it up with him.” A shadow passes over Aaron’s face.

“That bad, huh?”

The dark look disappears instantly, and Aaron chuckles. “Nah, not too bad. Abaddon can be a tough boss sometimes, but he’s almost never around.”

“Okay, so as a Reaper, I’ll see lots of death. Check.” I nod, though I’m still not convinced that’s something I can deal with. But it’s better than dying myself, I suppose. “I can’t say I was totally shocked by that one, honestly.”

Aaron laughs. The sound echoes off the trees, and something rustles in the underbrush, probably that glowing raccoon.

“No, I guess that’s not surprising,” he says. “But you’ll also have to witness the deaths of people you love, Libbi. And some of those people might…”

He stops talking and turns toward the bridge, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I touch his shoulder. It’s a gentle touch, meant to comfort him like his holding my hand comforted me, but he jumps. “Might what?” I say.

He faces me with the smile, but his eyes are careful, flat, emotionless. “Well, let’s just say this work can be scary sometimes.”

“Okay, I’ll see people I love die.” My mother’s face pops into my head. Then Haley’s and Kyle’s. Then Max’s. I push the thoughts away. “And the job gets scary. Check and check.”

“And you’ll be stuck in Carroll Falls. No career as an artist.” Aaron keeps his eyes focused on a point over my shoulder. “Not that you’d be able to do that anyway, if you were dead,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself.

That gives me a moment’s pause. I shake it off. Being stuck in Carroll Falls might only be slightly less awful than a death sentence, but I can’t think too much about that. I need my pencils to help me sort it out.

“But at least I’ll be alive.” I whisper the words. “If I die tomorrow, I’ll be gone for good, right? There’s no coming back.”

“Right, there’s no coming back. And if you take the job, you could live forever, if you wanted. Think of all the cool things you could see. And you could stay with your friends and family. You could see their grandchildren’s grandchildren.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ve made my decision.” The choice is simple, really.

“Wait.” He holds up his hand. “Before you say it, there’s one more thing.”

His feet shuffle the gravel. I impatiently motion for him to continue.

“This is the hardest thing, I think. After your training, when I…I mean, when you take over for me, you’ll become invisible. The living won’t be able to see you or hear you unless they’re about to die.” Aaron takes my hand again, and I don’t pull away this time. I only partially notice he’s holding it. “You’ll lose all contact with the living. It’ll be like you’re a ghost. A living ghost.”

“But I can write letters, right? You wrote me a letter.”

“You should be dead right now. Only you and the dead can read that letter. To anyone living, it will be a blank page. Anything I do, any change I make in this world at all, is forgotten immediately or invisible to them.”

“But, how will I—? What will happen to me?”

“You’ll disappear. Your family will search for you, and they’ll cry for you, and eventually they’ll get used to you being gone and forget you. Sure, you can stay with them, if they stay in town. You can eat dinner with them and watch TV with them at night. You can attend your brother’s graduation and his wedding, but no one will see you there. You’ll be with them, Libbi, but you’ll be alone.”

His words cut me deeper than anything he has said tonight. He’s speaking from experience. It’s in his hollow eyes and the tight set of his lips. He may try to pretend his job is awesome, but Aaron is a boy who knows loneliness.

“Oh my God.” I want to put my arms around him. Pull him close. Tell him he’s not alone anymore. But I don’t. “How long has it been since you’ve spoken to a living person?”

“I talk to living people almost every day. They die within twenty-four hours, but…” Aaron shrugs like it doesn’t bother him, but I know it does. “Other than that? Forty years. They’re either dead or about to be dead. And most of them think I’m someone else.” His voice becomes hushed and I have to lean in to hear him. “I think my sister can hear me in her sleep—she talks to me sometimes—but she doesn’t remember when she wakes up.”

I shake my head. “I thought you were trying to convince me to take the job.”

“I am.” He blinks a few times, like he just woke up in the middle of sleep-talking. He gives me a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. It really is great. Did I tell you I can fly?”

It feels like I’m spinning. I need to sit down. I walk away from Aaron and the hulking shadow of Jumpers’ Bridge and stumble back to the pile of railroad ties. My knees give out as I try to sit, and I plop down on the piled wood. Aaron slowly walks over with his head down and sits next to me. He grips his knees and turns his face to the full moon.

“So, I know you said it wasn’t my business, but maybe you should make up with your mom. If you decide to take the job, you’ll have a whole week left with her. But, if you decide not to, you only have about…” He counts on his fingers. “Thirty-nine hours. That’s not a lot of time.”

“Then I have to make a decision.”

“Unless you know your answer now.”

“I—I don’t know anymore.” My fingers tremble as I brush a wisp of hair from my eyes. “I need more time to think.”