Death's Apprentice | Tristan's Tale

XI

Death and Tristan walked to Dolores' home the next day. Mara had requested Death should come quickly because Dolores had woken up in worse shape than before. Tristan could hear the desperation in Mara's voice over the hotel phone. It only made Tristan's heart hurt more. He had to do his job today.

The two men stood on the porch. Death knocked on the door. Tristan shifted uncomfortably next to him.

"You know what to do. You will know when to do it," Death reminded Tristan. The younger nodded. Death had coached him early in the morning about how to do this part of the job. It was simple. Easy.

No one had come to the door yet. Tristan reached out and knocked on the door again.

"She won't see spring again," Tristan quietly said turning to Death. Death looked sorrowfully at his apprentice.

Mara opened the door. Deep lines of worry etched her face. She held a handkerchief wadded in her hands.

Death greeted her with the same congeniality he always had. He seemed more tender with Mara knowing how worried she was.

Mara led the two up the stairs to Dolores' room. The door was cracked open slightly. A little light from inside poured into the hallway. It was quiet.

Tristan felt a tingle run through his body at the sight of Dolores when Mara pushed open the door. Dolores lay on the bed, her head resting on the pillow. She looked tired. Her bangs were swept to the side and her hair cascaded down the pillow. Tristan thought she looked beautiful. Tired but beautiful. His heart ached at what he had to do for her.

Dolores greeted the doctor and his apprentice for the last time. That is how Tristan thought of it. He counted how many things she must have done for the last time.

Death came to sit in the chair next to the girl's bed. It had been clear that Mara had taken residence in the chair previously. Her belongings were scattered nearby. Death held Dolores' hand. Tristan noted how his demeanor did not seem to change despite what was to unfold. He seemed normal. Tristan did not feel normal.

"How do you feel, dear," Death asked.

"Tired. I want to sleep but I cannot,"

Death felt her forehead with the back of his hand. He pulled out his stethoscope to listen to the girl's chest. He did not make any reaction while he listened and observed.

"I'm glad you're here, Tristan," Dolores said turning her attention to the apprentice, "Come sit." She patted a spot on the bed opposite Death. He came to sit.

Death let Mara take her seat again. The woman was grateful and squeezed his hand in thanks.

Tristan sat on the bed in front of Dolores and held her hand tightly.

"Are you alright, Tristan? You seem...I don't know...uneasy," Dolores spoke examining his face. Tristan brushed some hair out of his face.

"I'm fine. How are you? Is there anything you need?" His voice felt as weak as the girl looked.

"No, I just want to lay here. I'm glad you and Dr. Mortimer came. I'd rather not be alone right now,"

"You won't be alone. Not if you don't want to be,"

"Good,"

Dolores looked out at her window. The curtains were drawn open letting the sunlight come in. Tristan looked at Dolores' face bright with the sun. Her cheeks were slightly rosy.

Tristan looked over to Mara. Her expression made all the air seem to escape the room. Her eyes were glassy and vulnerable. Her face brought him away from the peace Dolores was giving him. Mara knew. Mara knew what was happening to Dolores and she could not hide it on her face.

Death grasped Mara by the shoulder and comforted her silently. Mara brought her handkerchief up to her face. Tristan couldn't stand the see the woman's posture falter.

Mara grabbed her daughter's hand and rubbed the back of it. Dolores turned to see her mother's face torn. Dolores sighed and grasped her mother's hand back. Tristan could see Dolores understood her mother without needing to exchange words.

"Baby, if you want to rest you can. It's okay if you're ready to go," Mara whimpered.

"I am ready to go," Dolores said to her mother, then turned to Tristan, "I have no regrets about going."

"What about the thing you told me about? The only thing you would regret," Tristan asked remembering one of their conversations. He felt like pleading for her to stay until she got what she wanted.

"Oh, I do not regret that. It happened already," Dolores admitted.

Tristan understood silently. He gave her a small smile. Dolores smiled back.

"You have a nice smile," she complimented. She pulled Tristan closer with her hand.

"I'm ready to go," Dolores confessed. Her breath fanned Tristan's face. He leaned closely and kissed her on the forehead as she shut her eyes. For a moment, Dolores relished in their contact, but her eyes did not reopen. She lay still in bed no longer breathing. Her chest did not rise and fall.

Tristan heard Mara choke behind him. Her hands pulled at the sheets of her daughter's bed. The fabric balled in her hands as she buried her face in it.

"Oh, God, my girl!" she cried out. Her sobs were deafened inside the sheets.

Tristan turned to Death with tears in his eyes. Death's face contorted for a moment when he looked at his apprentice. His face carried something like remorse in it.

Tristan stood from the bed and came to Death. The master enveloped his apprentice in a hug. Tristan cried quietly into his chest.

"Do not worry about her. She is better now," Death whispered in his ear.