Shiver (Collection)

Do Not Fear Death

They came a week in advance.

"Most of the time," the woman said, "we don't come this early. Sometimes we give people a day if they're lucky, an hour for about half of people though they don't believe us. But a week is practically unheard of; you're lucky."

"Then why are you here?" I said, knowing they were wrong, knowing they had to be kidnappers and as soon as the door was locked I would call the police. "Why would you tell me a week in advance."

They looked at each other, the man and the woman, both about the same age wearing the same blue shoes, the same blue jeans, and the same blue shirt. "We were saving a trip. Your grandpa dies in a day. If you'll just step aside, we can tell him too. Or you can tell him; we aren't picky,"

I pulled the door tighter against my body, fumbling for the phone in my pocket. Maybe I could get a picture of them to give to the cops. "Why come at all though? We die either way, right; why bring us the bad news to begin with?"

"Closure, mainly," the woman said with a smile. "You can say your goodbye's, pay the little debts you've pulled your families into, fix the relationships that need it before you pass on."

"Ah, and you, benevolent travelers, visit us out of the goodness of your hearts?"

"We feel guilty sometimes," The man said quickly, smiling too, a smile too warm for somebody conning you. "Giving you this, letting you know in advance, helps with that."

"You feel guilty? Even though this is your job? Carrying souls to the next world, tearing them from the ones they love. Guilty? Now that's sweet."

The blue woman and man just smiled, blinking in unison, unsure what to say.

"Well, thanks for the warning," I said, smiling as widely as them. Then I whipped my phone camera in front of their face and snapped the picture. "And thanks for the incriminating photos."

With all the force I could, I slammed the door. Right in their faces, preparing to dial my parents numbers and command them home from work.

"Just wait a day to see," the woman shouts through the door, as if I was still exchanging pleasantries with them. "Wait to see about your grandpa before you tell anybody."

I snorted.

Yet for some reason I didn't hit the call button. When my parents came home, I didn't tell them about the 'visitors' either, in fact I didn't even check the doors that night to make sure they were locked. It was odd, but I just couldn't be afraid of that, awkward, smiling couple no matter how much I should have been; they were just so―harmless.

Grandpa died the next day at lunch time. With his eyesight and everything, it wasn't surprising that he mistook his blood pressure pills for vitamins and swallowed several too many. Sure I screamed and cried when I came from school to find him sprawled across the kitchen floor, but on the inside, I remembered what they'd said.

I'd just known the couple dressed in blue weren't lying.

"Is he happy?" was the first thing I asked when they'd come the next day.

"Happy?" the man asked, tilting his head.

"Does he like it over there, where you took him, in the afterlife, or heaven or wherever? Is he like, at peace?"

"We're keeping him safe," the woman said nodding her head kindly. "He's getting ready for the feast actually, the one everybody attends when they first come over. It's wonderful."

"They usually eat right away, but we decided, with you and him being so close together and everything, that he would wait. We didn't ask him, with all the adjusting he's going, but we're sure he'd want to. Family is family, after all."