CHAPTER 12

"What is being the grim reaper like?" Mike spotted a book that looked promising and opened it. The letters lifted off the page and reformed into English, so he scanned the contents.

"That is not a question I can answer." Death stared at him. "Other than a few rare moments in history, I have no recollection of ever having thoughts or desires of my own."

"That makes sense." Mike tucked the book under one arm. "You've been with us for a couple of months now, though. Surely you have some thoughts on the matter?"

Death nodded. "I only exist on this plane when a creature dies. Though it happens constantly, each moment is but the blink of an eye. Rarely do I even walk among you. Rather, I simply come and go."

"Really? Then what?"

"I reap, but do not sow. The souls I collect upon, they do get passed on, but to where they go, I do not know." Death put the book away, then flashed a toothy grin. "It was only recently that I was able to even contemplate the creatures I am sworn to collect."

"You mean humans?" Mike pulled out another book.

"Indeed, Mike Radley. I was not created to experience your human emotions, only to serve. I have witnessed the best and worst of humanity in their final moments, but I do not judge. However, I have become curious about your kind, and found my attention lingering on more than one occasion. Think of it as a professional courtesy." Death held up the book he was holding. "Imagine that every letter in this book is a single soul. I flip the book to a random page, read my letter, then leave. I have gained very little."

"Okay." Mike held onto his current book, now giving his full attention to Death. "So do you get to read the book when all the souls are collected?"

"No. The letters keep moving." Death flipped to a different page. "In the course of human events, I will often find that I must collect many souls in the same area in a short amount of time. It is during these times that I was able to briefly walk the earth and know you, to see the whole page as I pluck some letters from it."

Mike paused, deep in thought. "Are you talking about wars?" he asked.

"A bit. War is a brother of mine, and thanks to him, I have seen much of this world." Death closed the book. "Natural disasters, plagues, acts of gods, I am there to reap, to collect my bounty and move on. It is those moments that linger with me as I walk this plane of existence with you. I have a chance to think about what I've seen and to process it."

"That sounds like a lot. Is that why you've been looking at old maps? Is that when a bunch of people died?"

"It helps to put my thoughts in order, yes. I am no mortal being, Mike Radley, and my memory is infallible. However, my sense of time is very distorted, and I find comfort in being able to organize those thoughts much like this library, to put order to my collection. It also allows me to put imagery to locations, to see the world proper, though I never leave this house."

"So you remember everybody that's ever died?"

"I don't reap everybody. There are other entities similar to me, like your dear Cecilia. Unlike her, I have had very little chance to interact directly with mankind, and I am trying to properly appreciate the opportunity while it lasts. To do this, I am trying to better understand myself."

MIke frowned. "That's... pretty deep, to be honest. So you stare at these maps and remember stuff? It sounds like kind of a bummer, really."

"It is no bummer, Mike Radley, to offer relief to those who are ready to cross over. Grief and pain exist only for those who are left behind." Death winked, a process that involved one of his eye sockets temporarily folding shut. "As for what comes next? That is the true mystery."

Mike shivered. "That's a mystery I'm willing to put off for as long as possible, if you don't mind."

Death stared at Mike for nearly a minute, then nodded. "That is appropriate."

"You know what though?" Mike held up his book. "I'm glad you're getting this chance to hang around and explore, but don't focus too much on the past. You can enjoy looking at your maps and such, but take the opportunity to see how humans live. Quit staying in the office all day, and instead get involved somehow. By contemplating all these lives you've seen while they're ending, all you are doing is looking at a story from the final few pages. That's no way to read a book, you know."

"I see." Death stroked the spine of a nearby book that was gilded with gold letters. "Perhaps that is the first thing I should know about reading."

"It's one of many things. Never skip to the end, often the journey makes it even sweeter."

"I do enjoy our chats, Mike Radley."

"When I'm not so busy, I'd be happy to help you learn how to read." Mike took a peek inside the book in his hands and nodded to himself. It had a few mentions of faeries in it. "Until then, you can help me carry some of these."

"I can do that." Death held out his bony hands to accept the book from Mike. They perused the row they were in, and Mike pulled a few more books from the shelves and handed them to Death. When it was time to move to the next row, they stopped to set the books down on a nearby rolling cart.

The light of the lantern left many times, and each time, Mike followed. He collected dozens of books, piling them onto the cart as the hour grew even later, fighting off the occasional yawn.

Death said very little, content to observe.