You're Dead: Chapter Two

Just as we were about to walk towards Stepford Steppes Stevie’s phone went off. She had me wait a second while she checked the alert. “Oh fuck no!” She slammed the door shut right in my face and ran back around to the driver’s seat.

“Freddie can wait! This is bullshit!” Stevie drove out of that parking lot so fast I thought I would see swat cars chasing her.

I lifted myself up, having fallen between the seats and into the aisle when she slammed the door on me. I looked up out the window then turned to Stevie. I was confused enough as it was. I was a whole telenovela in terms of my emotions. This felt like nothing in comparison.

“What’s going on?” I grunted as I got back into the passenger seat.

“Notification on my security cameras.” Stevie was seething. She had her teeth grit, her shoulders tense, and both hands on the driving wheel. Her hands were clenched so tight that the knuckles had gone pale.

It was surprisingly easy to feel concerned for someone else. That concern was a bubble that bounced like a squishy ball outside my chest. “Someone is breaking into your house?”

“Not someone,” she laughed. “This is a something. And he’s been warned before.”

All sorts of ideas of what it could be drifted around my mind. If ghosts and grim reapers could exist, who knows what else was out there? Bigfoot? Lochness? Maybe Elvis was still alive? Stevie punched the gas so hard that I felt the force of the food truck shifting.

“I swear on my grave if he eats my food again!” Stevie growled through gritted teeth.

We drove by the hospital, and I could barely see anything as fast as we were going. But sitting on the stoop outside the hospital, I saw my sister. She was smoking, which she had given up ages ago. It made me angry to see her smoking, I wanted to yell out the window at her to stop. It only dawned on me as we drove away that she was smoking because she had just seen the last of me.

I slouched back in my seat and heaved. That globby, floating sensation of nausea pulsated around me. I was dead, and my sister knew I was dead.

Stevie pulled up outside her house. I didn’t really look at it. I just followed along behind her. My mind was elsewhere, even as she ran through the open front door screaming in spanish.

“Oh hey, Stevie!” The speaker then hit the floor with a thud.

I walked in, seeing moths gathered around every light fixture. They fluttered about, trickling around the room. I was so focused on them, I barely saw Stevie roughhousing her intruder while yelling a stream of insults in spanish at him.

The moths shifted, moving from the lights and coming towards me. They hovered around me, landing on me. I could feel their wings and the soft slip of the dust that fell from them. It was a strange comfort. I had never cared for moths in the past, but now they were the only thing I could feel.

“I told you not to come back here! You make a mess of everything! Get your own home!” Stevie yelled, catching my senses.

Stevie pushed a man, and he fell right in front of me on his rear. He looked up at me, his head tilted back. “Hey, there’s a soul here.” He turned around as he stood up to face me. “Did you put off a soul just to come beat me up?”

“I didn’t want you starting a fire again, Booker! Besides, she can wait,” Stevie scoffed. She went into the kitchen, turning off the stove then moving things from the top. “I use this for work! This isn’t a toy for your ramen hacks.”

Booker was still looking at me. He had long dark dreadlocks pushed back by a colorful and fluffy headband. His skin was dark, which made his honey colored eyes stand out like headlights in a fog. If that weren’t enough, he was the tallest person I had ever come across.

“These look familiar.” Booker reached out, taking my hand which held the moth scissors.

I recoiled, pressing my hand back to my chest.

He furrowed his brow then his eyes opened wide. He abruptly turned towards Stevie. “Where’s Mara?”

Stevie huffed as she strutted from the kitchen. “Gone.” She opened a door and started fanning the moths out. “You always make such a mess everywhere you go! Where’s Iggy?”

Booker approached her. “Gone? What do you mean gone?” He may have been tall, but compared to the buff Stevie he was a string bean.

Stevie pointed at me. “That was her last soul before retirement. I was taking her to Freddie before you broke into my house!” She stormed back into the kitchen. “Now tell me where Iggy is! Last time he ate all my fucking cereal!”

“Oh boy, Freddie isn’t going to be happy about you,” Booker laughed.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What?”

Booker frowned, his eyes were pretty, but struck fear into me. “Just warning you, but you are in for a world of hurt.”

My already anxious soul couldn’t handle much more. Moths gathered thick around my head and shoulders, still trying to comfort me. “Why?” My voice cracked.

“Ah ha! Come here you awful little shit!” Stevie yelled in the kitchen.

A small black blur came running out of the kitchen carrying a box of sugary cereal. It ran around Booker then huddled behind my legs where it sat down and started ravaging the sugary cereal as Stevie stormed out.

“No! Bad Iggy!” Stevie wasn’t far behind. She tried grabbing the box but the small creature threw it at her, still carrying the bag of cereal. It climbed up Booker and two red eyes glowed from under his dreadlocks.

“It’s just cereal!” Booker tried to avoid the box hitting him as Steview chucked it.

Stevie’s lip curled. “Yeah, mine!”

The red eyed thing jumped at me, landing in my arms where it cuddled to my chest and held onto me likemy like a baby. I saw black moth wings, and fluff around the neck. The red eyes stared up at me and it cooed.

“What the hell?” I whimpered.

“Aww, he likes you,” Booker smiled.

I took hold of the strange creature and held it out before me. “Is this a baby mothman?”

“That is mothman.” Booker took it. “He’s a harbinger. Which you better get used to. He and the others are all part of the job.”

I stared at the tiny mothman, eyes open, jaw ajar. It reached out to me with tiny grabby hands and wiggled with glee.

“Mothman?” I blurted.

Booker turned back to Stevie. “You best get her to Freddie. But he’s not going to be happy about this.”

Stevie scoffed. “I know that! He’s going to be fucking livid.” She rubbed her temple. “Mara’s the only one he gave a shit about since-” She stopped herself. Both Stevie and Booker then got a strange expression. “Well, I guess that doesn’t matter.”

“Do you think he knows already?” Booker asked.

Stevie shook her head. “No. I only knew because I was at the park when it happened, so I got the call to take care of her.” Both of them looked at me and the mothman kept trying to reach for me.

“I can’t even remember the last time we got a newbie,” Booker said.

Stevie glared. “It was me, stupid.”

Booker pulled the mothman back and had him sit on his shoulder. “Oh right! When Edouard retired. I miss him,” he sighed.

Stevie rolled her eyes then came back towards me. “I knew this would be difficult to approach Freddie with, but now I’m kind of scared.”

I had no idea who Freddie was, but the picture of him in my head kept changing. I really didn’t know what to expect, and I didn’t really want to face him now. “Look, if I’m not going to work out, can I just go?”

“No, you would really be fucked then,” Booker laughed.

Stevie scoffed. “You’re here and you’re one of us now. There’s nothing that can be done. This is just...how it has to be.”

“One of us, one of us, one of-” Booker stopped his chanting as Stevie slapped his stomach. “Come on!” He whined, covering his stomach with his arms.

Stevie put her arm against my back. “Come on, Daisy. Let’s go.” She snapped back at Booker. “You too. I’m not leaving you here.”

“But there’s only two seats in your truck,” Booker whined.

“I don’t care. Sit on the floor.” Stevie led us outside and closed her door, locking it and checking to make sure it still worked.

“If Mara’s gone then does that mean her place is available?” Booker asked.

“What's wrong with your dump?” Stevie scoffed.

Booker sat down between the seats and the mothman crawled up into my lap, sitting there like a cat.

“Iggy right?” I asked, unsure how to move with him there.

“Yeah, that’s Iggy. I’m not sure what his real name is. I don’t speak harbinger.” he said this so nonchalantly, yet it was my first time even considering mothman was a real thing.

“I thought he’d be bigger,” I muttered.

Booker sat up a bit so he could see outside. “He doesn’t go to final form until he has to work. It’s been a while since there was a disaster that called for him. But that’s what harbingers are for?”

“What’s a harbinger?” I asked.

“Creatures that help us, sort of like pets or sidekicks.” Booker pet the top of Iggy’s head. “Some are there to help us find people close to death, or souls that have become lost. Iggy here signals when huge disasters are about to strike. Some are small like the moths or cats. Others, like Iggy, need to be big in order to get the signal across.”

“Oh.” I had no idea how to respond. That was the best I could do.

“There is so much more to this world than you could ever imagine,” Booker spoke in a soft hushed tone. “There are veils between the living and the dead, even more between that. Souls get lost, hearts are broken, energies left behind that create and manifest in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. This world is filled with dark powers and radiant light. It’s our job to make sure there is nothing added to this mess. There’s so much pollution in the veils. That’s how we get hauntings and possessions. That's how evil grows and seeps out.”

“Don’t scare her,” Stevie hissed.

Booker tried to stand but Stevie w braked and he toppled backwards. “Dammit, Stevie!” he yelled. He sat back between the seats while Stevie laughed.“Freddie is going to do so much worse, I’m just preparing the poor girl.”

Stevie scoffed. “It’s her first day. You remember what that's like.”

“I was excited about it actually,” Booker snubbed.

“Of course you were.” Stevie grumbled under her breath.

I was barely listening to them. I was still focused on Booker’s little speech. I had never believed in anything I couldn’t see or touch. I had always brushed it aside as childish fantasy or crackpot theories. I was a doubter, I admit to that. “What are veils?”

Booker turned back towards me, leaning against my seat. “Thin boundaries. There are dozens of them. Probably even more than that.” He held his hands up parallel to one another. “The living is just one plain of existence. But it’s got layers amongst it. Sort of like pastry. These layers separate the living from ghosts and specters, from residual energies that linger and take on a force of their own. Part of what we do, what you’ll do too, is make sure the souls of the living don’t get trapped as part of that pastry filling.”

“Are you hungry?” Stevie huffed.

“You stopped me from cooking my lunch, I’m starving!” Booker snapped back at her.

Stevie grumbled something under her breath and pulled up to a drive through. “He won’t shut up if you don’t feed him.”

Iggy stood up in my lap and leaned over the dashboard, wiggling his fluffy butt. He drummed his hands on the dash as we drove up to the menu.

“Take Iggy for example,” Booker said as he stood up. “He came from between these layers. Part future and part present. He sees things that humans can’t, and even things that we can’t. You'll start seeing more and more as you get used to this new life. Your eyes are more open, more attuned to what’s around you. It’s a second sight.”

I fidgeted in my seat. I wanted to swallow away the bubble in my throat, but I couldn’t. Instead that choking feeling hovered around me. “Is it scary?”

Booker laughed. “Oh yeah! You’ll see some fucked up shit.”

Stevie smacked his back. “Just order something. Stop scaring her.”

I leaned back in my seat. “How fucked up?”

“Don’t worry about that now.” Stevie tried to alleviate what Booker had just told me. “You’ll get used to it over time, and hopefully Freddie will be able to prepare you for some of it.”

Iggy turned around and looked up at me with those huge, off-putting yet slightly cute red eyes. He patted my cheeks with his little hands. Somehow, that strange gesture was a comfort. Just like the moths that had gathered upon me at Stevie’s place. Tears started floating around me, drifting up around my eyes. I sniffled and tucked my arms tight around myself.

Booker sighed and placed his big hand on my shoulder. “What’s your name?”

“Daisy,” I whimpered.

“Daisy, consider yourself lucky. You get to live the most remarkable life now. Do you know how rare it is that a person gets this job? It’s like a miracle. You’re basically immortal. All past debts and concerns are wiped away. You get to start fresh and new! You don’t even have to be the same person from day to day. You get to choose your own path.”

“I liked where I was!” I snapped. “I liked being alive!”

Book twisted his mouth up. “And what was that life? What did you do?”

“I was an accountant and-” I stopped there. “I was an accountant,” I murmured low.

Book snickered and covered his mouth. “So you are…” He started snickering again. “I don’t mean to joke, but, does this mean you are both death and taxes?”

Both Stevie and I gave him a look.

“I’m not feeling bad about that! It’s true!” He pointed to the menu as we pulled up to order. “Chicken nuggets.” Iggy bounced and clapped his hands in excitement.

Stevie scoffed. “Grow up. You’ve had decades to do it.”

I knew what I was, but somehow, saying it out loud made me realize something. I hated it. I was good at it, but I hated it. I was always good with numbers and math, but I hated it! I had devoted my life to it, and I hated it! I went to college for it all so I could work a job that was dependable but as boring and tedious as dishes and the water they left behind. I had plans as a kid. I had dreams of running a bakery! A bakery where I could make my grandmother’s bread, my mother’s recipe for coffee cake. Instead I was helping people do their taxes!

“Hey, are you alright?” Booker touched my shoulder.

“I was an accountant!” I cried out.

“She’s reaching the breakdown very quickly.” Booker took Iggy from my lap and I wrapped my hands around my face.

My tears floated up through my fingers and floated around my head. “I didn’t do anything I wanted!”

Booker knelt down beside me and put his arm around me. “Let it out, the person working the drive thru won’t see anything.” He tapped Stevie’s shoulder and pointed. “Pull over at that playground over there when you get the order.”

Stevie pursed her lips. “What about Freddie?”

“He doesn’t know, what does it hurt if we give her a moment? Besides, I don’t think she could handle Freddie right now.” Booker leaned back down near me as I sobbed. “I’m sure you didn’t do just nothing. Did you do any fun trips? Tattoos? Post a hot take online?”

I shook my head and hiccuped as I tried to speak.

Booker rubbed my back, but I couldn’t feel it. Instead the pressure he placed between my shoulders sort of thrummed in the air. “Did you have someone who loved you?”

I sniffled and whimpered.

“Doesn’t have to be a romantic thing,” Booker coaxed before I really started to break down. “Just someone, anyone, who loved you.”

More tears floated upwards and collected on the ceiling of Stevie’s truck. “My sister, Clover.”

Booker handed Iggy back to me. The little mothman felt soft and warm in my lap.“Daisy and Clover? Your parents were hippies?”

“No,” I hiccuped again. “Our dad is an accountant, and Clover’s mother is an organizational guru.” I rubbed my eyes and Iggy patted the top of my chest. “I don't know much about my mother other than a coffee cake recipe.”

“So Daisy and Clover was just a thematic choice?” As weird as his line of questioning was, Booker was actually helping me.

I shook my head. “Clover chose her name. She hated her deadname.”

Booker’s brows raised and his lips puckered. “Oh! I see. She chose to match you?”

“I guess. She also really liked this girly spy cartoon when we were kids.” I sniffled and Iggy patted my cheek like he was wiping tears away.

“It at least sounds like she loved you a lot.” Booker smiled. “There’s something worthwhile that you did.”

I looked up at him, bleary eyed and a little more heartbroken. But thinking about Clover and everything we did together, I felt like I didn’t do just nothing. I did a little something.

“Here! Eat your damn nuggets.” Stevie thrust the fast food back at Booker and Iggy turned to reach up for it. Stevie wiped her eyes then went down the road a bit to the public park. Booker took me out to the playground which was empty and had me sit down on one of the swings.

“Stevie, push her,” Booker said.

Stevie grimaced at him “Why not you?”

Booker pointed down to Iggy. “I have to feed him.”

“Fine,” Stevie scoffed as she stood. She went behind me, pushing gently at first. I held on to the chains as I swung. Stevie pushed harder again and my feet left the ground. I went further up than I expected, perhaps it was because there was only a soul in the seat. I looked up into the sky and saw something strange. There was a glimmer up there that rippled and waved like water. The more I stared at it, the more I could see. The shape was long and narrow like the body of a snake. It coiled around and around then dripped down where it hovered above Booker’s head. He swiped at it and fed Iggy a chicken nugget.

“Feel any better?” Stevie asked.

I pointed. “What is that?”

Stevie followed my finger. “Your sight is slowly coming in. That’s good.”

“But what am I seeing?” I balked.

“That’s a guardian,” Stevie said simply. “Created from the energy ofenergy of of the kids who played here.” She stopped the swing and motioned around. “Just as there is bad energies that create evil entities in this world, there are positive ones that create good things. Allies for us, at least. The playground has a luck dragon, or at least that’s what I’ve been calling it.”

“Dragons?” I blurted. “Dragons are real?”

“Not like you’d think.” Stevie offered her hand and helped me up. “We should get going. Freddie will be getting off work soon, I think. HeWe won’t answer his door if we go to his house. Booker!”

Booker turned away from his food, and Iggy had crawled into the bag.

“We gotta go,” Stevie fussed. We all went back to the truck and drove to Stepford Steppes again.

Inside the building we went down a narrow hallway to the front desk. Inside people shuffled about, heading towards their rooms or trying to evade the nurses. I saw those moths again, gathering around doors rather than lights. I then saw a cat run from one door and come to our feet. Was this Freddie?

Stevie approached the front desk. “I need to talk to Freddie. Please tell me he’s still here?”

The nurse at the front desk made a face. “Yeah. He’s still here.” She motioned down another hallway. “He was dealing with one of our temperamental residents earlier. I don’t think he’ll be in a good mood.”

I glanced back down at the cat. Okay, so that wasn’t Freddie, good to know. The cat stared up at me though, it’s big green eyes unblinking and wide. I felt nervous nervou under its gaze. I’d never really been a cat person. Something about cats always gave me the creeps. This cat, for certain, made me feel as if it knew my past and future.

“He’s never in a good mood, might as well call him,” Stevie sighed.

“Sure,” the nurse seemed really reluctant to make the intercom call. She picked up the phone and pressed a button though. “Freddie, you have visitors at the front desk. Freddie, you have visitors.” She put down the phone then stood up and walked away without a word.

“I don’t like that sign,” I murmured to Booker.

“Don’t worry, you just gotta get to know Freddie for a few decades to really get him.” He said that as if it were an easy thing.

An asian man came out from the hallway, a grim look upon his face. He had blankets draped over his left shoulder. We had obviously called him in the middle of something. His sharp, almond eyes were dark and felt like razors as they focused upon the three of us. He rolled his eyes as he walked towards us.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He hissed. He had a low, raspy voice. Up close, I could see he had a long scar that swooped down his face, going from his forehead, through his left eyebrow, and then cutting across his lip in a crescent swoop. His eyes cut to me and I shrunk behind Booker. “What is this?” He pointed at me. “Can you not do your job?”

“That’s the thing-” Stevie tried to be upbeat and positive. She smiled, but it didn’t make Freddie waver at all. “She’s uh-” Stevie started to crack though.

Freddie’s brow twitched. “Why didn’t you take her to Mara and let her handle this?”

“Well-” Stevie’s voice strained as she looked at me.

Freddie watched her, his brows pinched. They raised as it dawned on him. He looked at me, opening his mouth and clenching his jaw. “Mara’s retired. And this-” His hand dropped as his eyes went up and down me. “This is what she left behind.”

“I’m not happy about it either,” I huffed.

“This is Daisy,” Booker started.

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Freddie huffed. “You both have been around long enough, why don’t you take care of her.”

Booker interrupted him back. “Because we’re dumb as hell, Freddie. You're the eldest here now. Aside from-”

“Aside from who?” Freddie’s voice boomed angrily.

Booker and Stevie both flinched. Booker reached back and put his hand on my arm. “We didn’t know what to do, we just thought you’d know better.”

Freddie sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want this.”

Stevie took a step forward. “You think Mara did? She took care of you. She took care of all of us. You think she wanted to sign up for that job? Look, I miss her too. But we all have a responsibility to her now. This is her replacement, the older of her pomegranate seed.”

I looked at the moth scissors in my hand. “Her what?”

Freddie scowled at me and I ducked back behind Booker. He scoffed and shook his head. “Not right now,” he muttered. “Take her back to your place, Stevie. Don’t let her outside. Don’t let her near a phone or computer. Once the seeds give her a corporeal form, she is not to be trusted.”

“Hey,” I snapped.

Freddie cut his eyes at me. “Newly dead never know how to behave.”

A chill ran through my body and I hid behind Booker again.

“Chill man,” Booker huffed. “She’s freaked out enough. She met me.”

Freddie glared at him. “I’ll meet you tomorrow. But for now, keep her under lock and key. Don’t let her out of your sight. Don’t give her a fucking inch. And make sure you have enough food for when she has form again.”

“Oh right,” Stevie muttered. “Crap.”

Freddie then stepped around Booker to look at me. His eyes narrowed and he scowled. “You have no idea how lucky you are.” His lip curled as he spoke.

I gulped and to my surprise, I could feel it. “What does that mean? Is that a threat?”

“It can be.” Freddie turned back to Stevie. “Tomorrow,” he said, then walked away.

Stevie’s cheeks puffed out and she exhaled. “How did he learn to get so scary? It’s like he should be made of bones and carry a sickle.”

“Right?” Booker shivered. “He gives me the creeps.” He then looked down at me. “He’s a great guy.”

I frowned at him, not believing him for a moment.

We went back to Stevie’s place. Once there, she had Booker stay with me while she went to get groceries. I sat on her couch with my knees pulled up to my chest. “So, why do I need so much food once I get a body?”

Booker stretched out on the armchair. “Well,” he grunted. “It’s a new body. And like most bodies it requires energy and nutrients, of which it will have none. Trust me, this body will crave food like a stoned teenage boy.”

“Okay,” I muttered. “But...what sort of body will I get?”

“That’s all up to chance,” he chuckled. “Just be prepared to not recognize the face you’ll see in the mirror. You won’t be getting something you recognize.”

I furrowed my brow. “I won’t?”

Booker shook his head, taking on a sympathetic gaze. “No one you know can recognize you. No one, at all, can know you still exist here. It’s not safe for them, and it wouldn’t be safe for you.”

“I can’t even go see them?” I asked weakly.

“Afraid not. At least, Freddie would never allow it.” Booker let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not going to try and pretend to be a good teacher. I take advantage of this role I’ve been given. I step on toes. I cross boundaries. But I can say that, at this stage of death, you need to stay away from your old life. Going back will do nothing for you.”

I let my legs out from my hold. “Did you go back?”

Booker nodded. “I did, and it sucked. It fucked me up in the worst way. Having those people I cared about so close, but I couldn’t touch them. I was a stranger to them, and I saw them move on.”

“Oh,” I whimpered.

“Stay away, Daisy,” Booker reiterated. “Stay away.”

When Stevie en Daisy came back, she had Booker bring in groceries while she showed me to a room where I could stay for a while. She also gave me some clothes I could wear when my corporeal form came in.

“It’ll be an eventful morning, I’m sure,” Stevie sighed. “So all I ask is that you don't leavedon’t leave leave in the middle of the night. But I should be awake before you.”

I swallowed, happy I could feel something again. “Will it hurt?”

Stevie shook her head. “No. You just sort of started existing. At least, that’s what I can remember.” She set the clothes aside then averted her eyes. She looked around the room as she recalled her death. “I spent most of my time crying. Mara took me in then, and she held me all night. When I woke up, she had made me this huge breakfast. But I don’t remember even realizing I had a body again until I looked into a mirror.”

“Booker said I wouldn’t recognize who I would become,” I muttered.

“You won’t. But hey, new day, new you.” Stevie looked anxious. “It’s scary. I won’t lieke. It’s like you’re a stranger walking around. It took me a long time to get used to what I was seeing. I still sometimes see my old self in my head.”

I rubbed my hands down my arms. “Who decides what I look like?”

Stevie shrugged. “I really don’t know. There’s things about this I still don’t get. Like, who is really in charge, and why we have to do this. I just learned to accept that I can’t know everything. And I hope that once I get retired I’ll get answers.”

I nodded and went quiet.

Stevie stood up. “I’ll leave you be then. Try and get some rest.”

I cleared my throat before she reached the door. “What are pomegranate seeds?”

“Oh, that,” Stevie placed her hand on the door knob and turned. “It’s hard to explain. But they are what keeps us living and gives us our abilities.” A guilty look crossed her face. “I’ll tell you more in the morning. Right now, I’m tired.” She left rather quickly.

I laid down upon the bed and stared up at the ceiling.