Death in the City by Kyle Giroux (read my book TXT) 📗

Finally, when Brian was in the middle of talking about best mixers for vodka, Death had to leave.

“Remember to put on your rain jacket,” said Brian as Death took a step out the door.

“Is it raining?” asked Death.

“What? No,” said Brian enigmatically. Death shrugged and walked out the door.

Soon Death was outside the Beehive at 7:45. “DEREK,” screamed Sheila, rounding the building and running towards Death with outstretched arms. Death sidestepped her as she ran past him. She turned around with her hands on her hips. “Hi, Derek, I’m so glad you made it are you hungry do you like my dress you look nice nice weather we’re having huh?”

“Yes,” said Death. Sheila was wearing a blue dress that was far too small, and her round face was smiling as usual beneath her platinum blond hair.

“Goody. Goody, goody, goody,” she said. “Well come on, let’s go in.”

Death followed Sheila into the restaurant and they were led to a table next to the bathroom. The restaurant was circular with a large centerpiece that resembled a beehive. Death examined the odd piece before realizing that it actually was a gigantic nest of African honey bees, buzzing furiously around it and dive-bombing diners.

Death and Sheila sat down, ordered drinks and bruschetta, and their date began.

“So,” said Death, happy to be with Sheila again. “How have you been?”

“Good, great,” said Sheila. She talked so quickly and animatedly, which Death found vastly amusing. “You wouldn’t believe what my roommate said. She said that she was going to the Caribbean next spring. The Caribbean, can you believe that, Derek?” Death thought back to his many trips there, the last time being when he reaped an old woman on a cruise ship.

“It’s very nice there,” said Death.

“I want to go, at least before—oh!” In the middle of her sentence a group of bees swarmed her, diving one by one at the top of her head. “Oh, get out, get out! Isn’t this place great, Derek? It was listed in Gordon Ramsey’s restaurant guide. That means it’s good. Oh!” One of the bees launched into her cheek and planted a large stinger on it. She looked to be on the verge of tears as she threw her arms around, bouncing the empty plates about. Death waved his hand above her head and all of the bees fell to the floor, dead. Sheila looked impressed as Death flushed.

“That was wonderful,” said Sheila. “You big strong man. Oh look, our drinks are here, and the bruschetta.” A waiter in a tuxedo set two Cape Codders down on the table and went to put down a platter of bruschetta when Sheila snagged it from him and immediately began shoveling it into her mouth. “I’m show graud you warrant to car he,” she said as the waiter left.

“Uh…what?” asked Death, leaning in to hear her better. Sheila swallowed hurriedly, choking in the process, and then caught her breath again.

“I’m so glad you wanted to come here,” she repeated.

“I had so much fun at speed dating that I was happy when you called back,” said Death.

“Oh!” exclaimed Sheila, clapping her fingers together. “You are just such a romantic, Derek.” She stared into Death’s cold, dead, grey eyes and blushed, looking down at the table.

“What’s wrong?” asked Death, helping himself to a piece of the remaining bruschetta and a sip of his rather strong drink.

“It’s just…oh,” she clapped her hands over her eyes and uncovered them quickly, then said, “You’re just so handsome, is all. I can hardly take my eyes off of you.”

“Well…thanks,” said Death. No one had ever talked to him this way. “Say, Sheila, something’s been on my mind. I’ve been trying to see why humans think dying is so bad, but I can’t really understand. I mean, isn’t it natural? Why should you fear something so inevitable? A lack of existence wasn’t a problem before you were born, why is it such a big deal after you die?”

“What?” asked Sheila, looking up from her plate. “I wasn’t really listening.”

“Oh, I said you look nice tonight too.”

“Ohh, Dee-Dee,” said Sheila emphatically, swooning with her fists clapped together next to her face. “Oh, Derek, I think…oh, I think…this is so difficult for me to say.”

“Go on, you can say it,” said Death. “Go on.”

“It’s just that…oh dear.” Sheila wiped sweat from her forehead and ran her fingers through her hair, knocking out an extension in the process. “It’s just,” she said again, leaning in very closely and whispering, “I think I’m in love with you.” She leaned back and threw her hands over her eyes.

“Oh,” said Death. The heat of the moment forced these words out of his mouth: “I guess I’m in love with you too.”

“OH MY GOD,” screamed Sheila. Death jumped back and nearly fell out of his seat as the entire restaurant shot glares in their direction. “Oh, Derek, we’re in love we’re in love! I knew this day would come, I knew it I knew it I knew it!” Death laughed and nodded cheerfully. He could not quite describe the feelings that were swirling within him. He felt lighter than the air around him and his legs felt like they turned into rippling water and his head felt as though it could pop off and float away. Death was in love—a very human feeling indeed—and he was enjoying himself.

“That’s right,” said Death, laughing and nodding. The waiter brought two bowls of minestrone soup to the table with a very nervous look on his face. He set them down and quickly sidled away without a word.

“Oh, Derek, just think, you and I can get married,” exclaimed Sheila. “I can’t wait to get my dress. Then I’ll be Sheila Derek. Oh, that does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Go on, say it with me. Sheila Derek. Mr. and Mrs. Derek Derek. Oh, this is so wonderful, I can barely hold still.” As though to illustrate her last point she shifted around in her chair, almost falling