So he did. Markus sat there by his mother’s side and told Rai stories about his mom for the next two hours. Tales that had them both laughing, some that brought more than a few tears to his eyes, and the story of his last visit with her before she fell further down in the grips of the disease.
“...so I covered her with her blanket and left. She was already asleep. And now I’m back from Japan, with a new job, a new girlfriend, and ready to start this new chapter of my life. And I’ll be doing it without her. All I wanted was for her to be proud of me, and to maybe meet Akane. I’ve no idea how she would have reacted, so maybe this is for the best.”
Rai patted his arm gently. “I understand that. Sometimes our wishes are meant to be just that - wishes. Doesn’t make them any less important. And now, here you are. Dealing with the reality of your situation. Have you called your girl to let her know?”
Markus nodded. “Yeah. I called her the day I met you. She talked to me for a couple of hours that night. I wish she could have been here, though.”
Markus sighed and let the memory wash over him. Akane had sounded so sad for him, but at the same time, let him take the lead on what he wanted to do about it. She’d asked if he wanted to come over, and was surprised when he refused.
“I don’t think it would be in either of our best interests. I have to learn to face these kinds of things on my own, and not run to shelter at the slightest hint of unpleasantness. It’s not that I don’t want to come over -I do- it’s rather the fact that I want to deal with this in as healthy a way as I can.”
“I understand, Markus. That makes a lot of sense, really. Even though we will be together, there will be times when I’m unavailable to you. I want you to be mine, but I also want you to be yours, first and foremost.”
“I’m glad you get it, sweetheart. I’m going to go lay down. I love you.”
“Rest, my love.”
He looked up at Rai and smiled. “Thank you for listening to me ramble about mom.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all! You feel free to pour your love for her out whenever you feel like it. I’m more than happy to listen,” Rai said as she patted his arm.
They sat in a comfortable silence, broken only by the steady beeping of his mother’s machines. Markus watched his mom as she slept, wondering just what she was experiencing. None of the research he’d seen had any idea, only that it had to be frightening for the people with Alzheimer’s.
To lose your faculties slowly, day by day? To be so certain it was 1985, when it was, in fact, 2023? To not recognize your own child, but to know that somehow they belonged to you in some familial way? Markus had to conclude that it must be akin to Hell on Earth.
Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, he checked it, seeing a message from Lucifer.
I need to see you. Go home as soon as you are able.
He typed a reply and sent it. Turning to Rai, he gave her a half-smile. “My boss needs to see me. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
Rai stood with him and hugged him. “Okay, darlin’. You go do what you need to do. I’ll watch over your mama. Let me know when you get home, so I can tell her, okay?”
Markus nodded and walked to his mother. Enclosing his warm hand around her smaller, much cooler one, he sighed. “Gotta go, mom. Work needs to talk to me. I love you.”
He stayed that way for a long moment, feeling no response from her. He nodded to himself, and turned his feet towards his house.
Once he walked in, he looked around, half expecting to see his manager in his home. He messaged Rai to let her know he had gotten home, then sent one to Lucifer to let him know he was available.
Come to my office, please.
Markus shrugged and held the image of Lucifer’s office firmly in his mind. Opening his closet door, he stepped into the office.
Lucifer looked up from the stack of papers on his desk. “Markus! So good to see you, my boy.” He extended his hand towards the chair opposite him. “Please take a seat.”
Markus sat in the proffered chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “This seems a little odd, Lucifer. What’s going on?”
Lucifer nodded his head, still filling out whatever forms he had in front of him. “I understand that it must seem strange, Markus. However, I wanted to meet with you one final time before your training begins.”
Markus nodded to himself. “Okay. So what’s on your mind?”
Lucifer finished a final pen stroke on the last sheet he had in front of him. “And….there. Done.” Capping his pen, he looked up. “Tomorrow is the big day. Are you ready?”
Markus sighed and leaned forward, his arms on his knees. “I dunno, man. I guess so? I mean, how does one prepare for a job like this?”
“Simply put, you don’t. You go in on day one, and you do whatever you have to do. You learn, you grow, you move forward. And you do that for the next thirty days, Markus. As sharp as you are, I still expect this to take a fair bit of time for you. From what I understand of the position -which frankly, isn’t much- even Miss Ikeda will have difficulty in her job.
“Our duties here are not for the faint of heart, Markus. While a mistake isn’t the end of Reality, it does make things difficult for a time. Not only for us, but for the soul or souls in question. While you most likely won’t make any decisions regarding the placement of a soul, you may end up directing them to the wrong place sometimes. A non-violent Buddhist winding up in Valhalla? A murderer ending up in Svarga? We must avoid these. It’ll happen on occasion, as there are just as many paradise locations as there are people. And it holds true in the other direction, as well.”
Markus pinched his lower lip as he thought. “Most likely? What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” Lucifer got up and thumbed through a bookshelf behind him. “Ah. Here we are.” He placed the book in front of Markus and sat back down. “Take a look. You might be interested.”
Markus turned the blue book over in his hands, peering at the faded lettering on the spine. “A Treatise of Souls: Paradise or Punishment?” Opening the hard cover, he was treated to an illuminated page, obviously hand-made.
“Hang on. I recognise this lettering… You wrote this, didn’t you?”
“Guilty as charged, my boy.” Lucifer chuckled softly.
Markus flipped to the final page, seeing the numbers. “Just over five hundred pages? Damn. You want me to read this, do you?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Only if you’re interested. If you get bored or overwhelmed at any point, simply return it. For now, put it on your desk and leave it there. Can’t let it get to the realm of mortals.”
Markus nodded and held on to the tome. “Any words of wisdom for me?”
“Relax. You got this, my boy.”
Markus gave him a half smile and nodded his head. “I suppose I do. I should put this on my desk, then. What time will someone come get me?”
“A few minutes before eight AM Eastern. Maybe even seven-thirty. It will be Cecily Monroe. She’ll meet you at your front door. Let her in, and she’ll do the rest. Mind you, I’ve not briefed anyone about you, other than your address, what you look like, and your general demeanor. You will work all twelve shifts over the month, so be prepared for that. Go put your book away, then get some dinner and rest.”
Markus nodded and opened the door to his office. Once the door was shut, Lucifer sighed heavily.
“Are you sure about this, Death?”
Death nodded, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Yes, Amun. I am. May the Creators have mercy on him.”
Amun placed a hand on Death’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They won’t, you know. He will get whatever it is that he gets. Maybe he’ll be just fine with no issues, maybe he’ll have a serious mental break. We -and They- do not know. It’s up to him now.”
Death nodded, staring at the door, hoping Markus would walk back in and put the book back on his desk. “Yes. The ball is squarely in his court.”
*********
Markus laid the book on his desk, then went home for the evening. He found that going home was ridiculously simple compared to coming to his office. Idly, he wondered if he would be able to go anywhere else from his house.
Deciding to put his musing to the test, he went into his bedroom, and stood in front of the closet door. Picturing the hallway firmly in his mind, he opened the door --
--only to find his closet.
Huh. Seems like I’ll have to go to work and then go wherever I’d like from there.
With the new knowledge at hand, he checked the time, and figured that a couple hours of gaming wouldn’t be amiss, especially with everything that had happened in the past week. Bedtime came, and with it, nervousness for the reality of his new job.
Tomorrow is the day. I begin working for Death itself in a few hours. I wonder what my first trainer is like? If we all only work two hour shifts, does that mean another trainer will come to…what was her name, Sara? Whatever. Will they come to her office to get me? Will I walk to their office? I wonder what the job itself is like? Can I work any voluntary overtime? What happens if….
Markus awoke to the sound of his phone’s alarm blaring the Legend of Zelda theme on an electric guitar. Groggily, he switched it off and sat on the edge of his bed. He laid out his clothes for the day, then showered, making sure to scrub his beard well. No sense in giving a poor first impression.
All in all, he was up and ready by six. Plenty of time to cook a light breakfast. Rummaging about in his kitchen, he found bacon, eggs and bread. Plenty of each, so he made enough to take a couple of bacon egg and cheese sandwiches for lunch. No sense in going out somewhere if he didn’t have to.
He had no sooner finished making the toast than he heard a knock at his door. It was barely seven, so he was assuming it to be his trainer.
Opening the door, he found a short, petite, native American woman of seeming middle years with hair the color of raven’s wings. Her otherwise nondescript appearance would make her blend in with a crowd fairly easily.
“Markus? I’m Cecily. Cecily Monroe. May I come- is that bacon I smell?”
Markus laughed and stepped to the side, allowing her entry. “Yeah. I just made myself some breakfast, figuring I had some time. Looks like I may have been wrong.”
She waved off his concerns as she walked into his home. “No, no. You’re fine. I wanted to be early so we could tak a bit. Over breakfast seems like a good idea. If it’s no trouble, that is?”
“Of course not! Please have a seat. How do you like your eggs? Two or three?”
“Over medium and three, please.” She eyed the mounded plate of bacon. “Just how much bacon did you cook?”
Markus cracked three eggs into a bowl and gently transferred them into the hot pan, with a touch of bacon grease for lubrication. “Three pounds. I baked most of it, the rest I cooked here. I like bacon. Help yourself. I’ll put some more toast on, too.” He dropped four slices of bread into the toaster, and placed the butter crock onto the table.
Cecily stared at how he gently flipped the eggs without a spatula. “What were you, a chef?”
Markus laughed. “Of a sort, I suppose.” He plated her eggs and toast, setting them in front of her, along with a fork. Patting his round belly as he sat, he said, “You don’t get as big as me by being a shitty cook. Or, well, I guess you can, but it’s more satisfying this way.”
She shook her head as she dug into her eggs. They were over medium, indeed. Exactly as she would have made them had she cooked. Impressive. She watched as Markus pulled the lid off the butter crock, cocking her head to the side as she saw water dripping off it.
“What’s that?”
“Hmm? Oh. This is a French butter keeper. I pack a stick or so of butter inside the lid here, then place it into the base, which is filled with water. The water creates a seal around the butter, allowing me to keep it at room temperature without it going rancid or getting eaten by critters. Picked it up a few years ago at a local farmer’s market.” He spread some butter on his toast, then handed it to her.
“Huh. I’ll have to get one. That’s a lot more effective than anything I’ve done.” She copied him, slathering a generous amount of butter onto all four slices of toast. “So, tell me what you did before this.”
“Before this? I worked at a local factory. Nothing prestigious or anything. Just a mid-level grunt.”
She took a bite of her toast and relaxed. Nodding, she pressed him further. “What do you think the job is like?”
Markus shoveled a bit of runny egg into his mouth and nodded. Swallowing, he said, “I’m guessing that we go to the office, boot up whatever it is we have for our records and wait until the door opens or is knocked on. We look up the file or whatever for the soul in front of us, and make sure they know where they’re going.” He shrugged.
“That’s essentially it. The soul’s files are kept in a massive database, and we have access to all of it. Anyone who’s ever died is able to be researched. Also, it’s expected that you’ll look into a few people of personal interest, so that is never penalized.”
“Will we be answering questions?”
Cecily nodded as she took a bite of bacon. “Absolutely. And there is no time limit to how long a soul may stay in your office, provided they are asking questions and getting what they need. We’ll see ten to twelve humans per shift, and a couple hundred animals. Those are easy. Most animals go on to reincarnate, some will go to a paradise and a few walk off into oblivion. Yes, they can talk to you. It’ll be surreal at first, I’m sure.” She checked her watch. “About time to go. You ready?”
Markus nodded and hurriedly placed the dishes in the sink, followed by slapping together a few runny egg and bacon sandwiches into a sealed dish. He put the remaining bacon into a bag and tossed it into the fridge.
“Let’s go!” He smiled broadly.
Cecily shook her head and walked to his closet door. “Now. To get to your office you have to-”
“Hold the image in your head firmly as you open the door.”
She once more cocked her head. “Yeah. How did you know?”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “I’ve done it a few times already.”
“Show me. Let’s go to your office.”
Markus shrugged and, holding the image of his office in his head, he walked over and opened the door. Gesturing, he said, “Ladies first.”
Cecily saw a stark office, with no furnishings and blank walls. Shaking her head, she looked up at him. “That was quick. Now let’s go back so we can get to my office.”
Markus shrugged and opened the door back into the hallway as Cecily followed behind, gently closing the door. With a brief pause, she turned the knob again, unveiling her office. Soft pastel blue enveloped the walls, adorned with hanging plants, as well as some resting on low shelves. A small desk fan hummed quietly atop her workstation, while a comfortable blue fabric office chair stood sentinel behind it. Adjacent to the desk, a plush armchair beckoned, its presence offering an inviting respite from the business of the room.
“The fan is always on. There’s no dust of any sort here, so it won’t ever get dirty. The motor burns out every couple of years, though.” She picked up a watering can that had been out of sight behind her desk, and began to lovingly water each plant.
Markus leaned against an open patch of wall as he watched the short woman take care of her charges, making sure to commit her office to memory. She spoke to each plant tenderly as she watered them, caressing their leaves or flowers before moving on.
Once she finished, she placed the can back into its little hidey hole and sat down, beckoning Markus over.
“Ready to learn how our system operates?”