Afterlife:the Retired

The building’s fire was just starting to creep down. Smoke was stirring through the windows, the brick dark with soot and ash. I could still feel life struggling, only to know that inside, it was a useless and a futile fight. I walked through the doorway without disturbing the ash. How calm and quiet it seemed. But then again, most things living are deaf to me. I come across a man it the stairway. His skin had peeled off of his face so much; I could see the bone where his fatty cheeks must have been. I gave him a tap on the foot. No movement. Another tap.

“Sir” I whispered. “Open your eyes to see me.”

Slowly, the man wrestled, unsure of his reaction to sound, weightlessness and pure terror of not being attached to a body. He was dead, after all. To the ones in full living form, they wouldn’t see anything more than a burned, roasted body. Yet to me, and the rest of the agents, he was now useful and a mark.

“Whaa..What’s going on?” He shook.

“Mr. Valentine. You’re dead.”

I stopped to allow this blow to sink in. People have to digest the reality that their body was nothing but a shell of themselves. Luckily, he was not a crier.

“Mr. Valentine, My name is Cecilia Scott, and I am prepared to help you towards your afterlife journey” I gave the warmest smile that I was taught, and gestured to the Heavens above. I flipped out my card. A simple buttered color card (soothing and feminine) with my name written in dark brown. I’m a sucker for éclairs so I indulge whenever possible in the cream and chocolate influences.

“I would like you to please consider Him as you know as God in Heaven as your final destination. He in whom you know as God would be delighted to include you in all future endeavors.”

I knew this both true and false. The fact that G.D was a round table of about five people was not relevant yet. Mr. Valentine would find out sooner or later. Hopefully after the contract was signed. He took the card, and smiled helplessly at me. After a few inquires about how what and why, I put my hand on his blooded and crispy shirt. Shame. Looked like a nice suit. I whispered the magic words and instructed him to follow the directions I gave. We shook hands in agreement and then ejected him upwards.

I felt the death around me. At least four more were looking for guidance. I continued up the stairs to find a little girl, no more than ten. Obviously the smoke got to her lungs sooner than the fire. I lay down and she looked up. Children. For some reason, they know what happens before adults do. She looked up at me, expecting instructions. Good girl. Her big brown eyes, filled with so much hope still.

“I’m Cecilia, and I’m going to help you.”

She looked up at me, brown eyes that could reflect all the world if she wanted. Children don’t take much to convince. Most of them have their family’s stories of where you go to die stuffed in their heads that they go aimlessly wherever you point them to. However, she was more eager than I expected. That could mean only one thing.

“I’m not done yet” she said, before disappearing. “This is my second trip, and I was told I will come back at least a fourth time.”

I smiled, shook her hand and waved so long to her. That’s the key. When you die a youth, and haven’t lived out twice your first life, you can reach the living form again. Rebirth. It’s rare, but it happens. Unfortunately, no one can guarantee what that life is worth. From the looks at her bruised body, multiple scars and general lazy upkeep, I’d say she was ready for term three before the second one ever really got started. Too bad you only remember these things when you‘re dead.

I had been in the building for what seemed to be an hour, meaning that about 30 seconds had slipped. I knew that I had to hurry before chaos came. It’s most important to find the spirit in the body when they first awaken; otherwise they stand up and get lost. It’s hard to set in the reality that they are dead and need to transport to another plane. That and they are increasingly belligerent and hard headed the longer they are out of living form.

I walk up to apartment 286D and open the door.  A man was already hovering outside his body. He looked about 30 or so, unkempt hair, stretched lobes and way too tight a jean. I swayed over to give a courtesy hand shake. That was when I felt it. The pull from my stomach. The tightness in my throat. I was taking too long. I tried to hurry my conversation with Krys (stupid new age parents) when I felt a force behind me.

“Excuse me, Mr. Fuller” a deep voice echoed. “I understand you are of superior intelligence”

“Nico” I shot behind me. How I loved and hated that name. A name that meant everything and nothing all at once. A name that would forever remain on my lips. For a moment I stopped and searched my surroundings. Pot, booze and a library of conspiracies about everything from UFOs, Hitler and Hearst.

Krys was circling around. I straightened out my suit, sticking out my chest just enough to prove I had control over this. There was no way in any form of Hell that I was about to let Nico Barlow take him from me. After all, I’m a capable, determined business woman. To be beaten by him was unacceptable.

Nico glided in the room, standing 6 foot 2. Short brown hair with a few locks lying on his forehead. Must have been watching the classics again. All he needed was the smokes rolled up in his sleeves. He curved half a lip to me, and then rested eyes on the floating dummy.

“Sir, I realize you far above all the lies that the Ms Scott has to offer. I would like to open your eyes to a world and experience you can only get in one place. One place only”

“Hell” I interrupted. It’s a low blow, considering it’s just a pleasant as at the G.D facilities. But then again, not needed info when you‘re trying to make contracts.

I shot the fiercest of looks at both Nico and Krys.  I don’t like to play dirty, but if it needs to be done…lets just say I’m not above a little cheating.

“Oh, you hurt me so, Ms Scott. And here I thought you would welcome a bit of friendly competition. Especial since you lived in M Co. until last century.”  He smirked. “And I believe I know someone who has that spot still open for you.”

I knew that tone. Creepy and so tempting. This prick was playing every button I had. I found out only a little before I left that he had been reading my manuals from the G.D. I’m not saying that I didn’t glance at his M Co books, but I sure as hell didn’t study them. A relationship was hard enough. Put two ambitious competitors together, the mix came be toxic or wonderful. After a while, both positive and negative passion can become exhausting.

A third agent appeared, Gregory, a trusted colleague. He gave a quick nod sideways to me and urged me silently to hurry up with the process. I tried my best to swallow the “Holier than Thou” lump in my throat and focused back on Krys. However, someone had a broacher already handy. Bastard.

“Mr. Fuller, if you would look at these, you will see that our facilities are more becoming to anyone who is not interested in mindless droning.” interrupted Nico. “We have the best in arts and literature and all residents have free access to our Library History. It is the written word of the Universe and always has something new. Nothing you have heard is true. There is no Heaven, there is no Hell. ” He glanced at me “Isn’t that so, Ms Scott?”

I rolled my eyes to resist me sticking out my tongue.

“The fact is that false propaganda was made by” …I hate his dramatic pauses… “Someone and the world has never been the same. Tell me, friend, would you ever believe the politician that had to lie to get votes?”

“Oh bull crap” I interrupted “Who doesn’t use marketing strategies?” Though it was true. Religion was like using tooth paste. Whatever you needed, you bought. We just had better advertisement.

“Wow. I had no idea dying was like finding a retirement community” Krys replied while looking at my card and the papers.

“There’s a lot about everything you don’t know” I responded. “Good luck, Mr. Fuller. Good time, Mr. Barlow.”



After the event, my colleagues and I went to the Afterlife Bar. It was a little joint that stayed on Earth, but was only available for us who died, as were all shops, bars, coffee shops and what have you for the dead or never lived. It was Thursday, which meant Cal was making the buffet. He made a mean potato salad. Most agents met after work to swap stories or boast about their recent commissions. It wasn’t a designated spot for us, but then again, not many came in unless you were. Gregory handed me my drink (what, you think you could survive Forever without alcohol?) and sat to my right. He was the only one in the entire bar with a striped button up dress shirt and tie still on. Between the stripped shirt, polka dotted tie and thick black glasses, the only thing he needed was a pocket with a calculator and he could pass as an accountant. He dribbled some of his Bloody Mary on his chest. That just added to his uniquely dorky charm. We’ve been on a few dates here and there, but his timid nature resulted in nothing more than hugs good bye.

Gregory pulled up his device and tapped in what I assume was the remainder of the filing paperwork from today’s events. He was new, only about 50 years in. Only newbie’s are over zealous and can’t just let the shift end. I swiped it away.

“Hey! I needed that! I think I…”

“Oh shut up and relax” I said. “It will get done when it gets done. Besides, the registration does most of the work. All you need is a shake and the rest is up to them. We are nothing more than the once that open the door.”

Gregory frowned and crooked his mouth to the side.

“You know as well as I do they are incompetent up there. I lost 12 residents to Michelle because she couldn’t remember to alter her dialect microbe from Yi to Sindhi.”

“Well, that’s why she does the show cases for M Co. now and not at the G.D.  They hire by profile only it seems…from the navel up.” I snorted. Its not that I’m a bad looking gal. But let’s just say I was born and died before they had all those “improvement” practices. Whalebone and ivory corsets were the only way to disfigure your figure. If you weren’t born with it, then too damn bad. Michelle died with breasts that would remain in the same condition underground or not. Most of us get a chance to visit our funerals. When we register, it asks at which state, age, we would like to remain if we are not approved for Rebirth. What kind of person looks at their dead shell and says “Oh, wow. I meant to get a bigger size. Make me 22 with triple Ds. Forever.” Michelle, that’s who.

Gregory didn’t follow my remark. In fact, he seemed to be looking right through me. As his lips lingered open, I turned around to see what he was gapping at. Twice in one shift. Nico waltzed in with his usual entourage of too many. I looked back to my friend and drank the rest of my beverage.

He looked down and sipped. “Are you going to…”

“Don’t even” I interrupted. I smiled to not show my discomfort. I was a denial pro. As long as I pretended he wasn’t around, which was difficult considering he and his frat club were roaring it up so loud the windows were shaking.

I hurried a second drink and then turned around so my back was to the bar. I had just made it to the door, thinking I made a great escape, when heat resonated from my arm. I turned around to see that my arm was being pulled by none other than him.

“Hey, where you running off to?” Nico’s last word almost winced in anticipation that I was going to clock him in the jar once our eyes met. And he would have been correct in that assumption.

“I’m retiring to my condo so I can continue my work and career. Please let me go so I can do that.”

“Cecilia, you break my heart, you’re so cruel” he said as he stepped behind me to taunt me from the other side. “But then every time you walk away, I can’t help but smile…” his hand and eyes lingered down my backside.

“Well, I’m pleased, considering that’s the only way you will ever be able to look at my ass for the rest of time” I smiled at my own little zinger and was so impressed I pushed open the door for a dramatic exit. Except it wasn’t a push.

Crap that hurt! Oh yah, you feel pain and sometimes bleed when you’re on the plane, which is why we don’t hang out on Earth that much. I turned around cupping my nose as Nico held my elbows. Gregory came rushing over and put his hand on my shoulder while looking around, then left, saying something about napkins. I glanced to see a perfect forehead and nose imprint on the glass, and nearly fainted from embarrassment. Nico lead me to the backroom, shouting for people to move. Yah. I know. I hated the man, but I wanted to duck out of sight more than I wanted out of his company.

I was seated in a booth while Nico sat on the table in front of me. He reached behind him and grabbed more napkins and held my nose. A moment of silence passed. Then I found my voice.

“I’b habe  dou” I mumbled.

“What?’ He looked deeply at me and wiped my cheek with his thumb. I straightened up, and pulled away from the cloth.

“I said I hate you.”

“You know that’s a lie. You can’t help but love me. Might not always like me, but love me, you do.”  He smiled honestly. Almost like it hurt him. That type of emotion from him made me uncomfortable.

“Well I’m certainly not your biggest fan right now, so” I sat up, and with what little integrity I had, walk back out, pulling the door this time and headed for home.

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