A Blue Sky Existence

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

The Mental Sieve

 Charlie, with no other duties to attend to, spent the next six hours lying on a sofa, watching the other Grims come and go with their clients, and listening to their stories after they were sent through the door.

    To think that so many people in one county could die in the space of a single night was disturbing on many levels. It didn’t help to then wonder about how many died, from disease or injury, in the whole of England. Plus Scotland, Ireland and Wales. Europe; North America; Asia; Africa; South America; Australasia. And the number would shoot up for at least half of those continents, owing to famine, war, drought, earthquakes, floods…

    He vowed not to play out these figures in his head again for a very long time. Instead he joined in Bobby and Julia’s conversation about why geese always flew in a ‘V’ shape.

    ‘I mean, it’s like they just know, you know?’ said Bobby.

    ‘I know,’ said Julia.

    ‘I guess none of us will ever know,’ said Charlie.

    It was a long night. But he felt better, at least, having got away from his own quicksand thoughts and the dichotomy of life and death. By dawn he’d concluded that healthy doses of frivolity were undoubtedly necessary.

    ‘Would you care to take some exercise?’ said Victoria. Charlie jumped as he looked up and saw her leaning over the back of the sofa. How long had she been standing there?

    ‘But, but…it’s so comfy here,’ he whined. She raised an eyebrow and waged a silent staring contest until he sighed in defeat.

    ‘Fine, but help me up; my feet like the cushions too much.’

    For such a skinny girl, Victoria was more than capable of hauling Charlie out of his groove in the sofa. As he sat up, recovering from the sudden head rush, he looked at her hand, which he was still holding.

    ‘You’re not cold.’

    ‘Well…no, I don’t feel the effects of external temperatures’ she replied, confused.

    ‘No, I mean your skin. It’s not freezing like it used to be.’

    ‘That’s probably a good sign, mate,’ said Bobby. ‘It means you’re becoming more like us.’

    ‘Yeah, guess I am.’

    ‘Well, on that positive note, let us depart.’

    ‘Where are we off to now? Another hospital?’ he ventured apprehensively.

    ‘You will see when we get there.’

    Damn you and your riddles.

   I beg your pardon?

  Oops. Nothing.

                                                                                       *

     ‘I don’t understand. I thought, you know, after our argument, you didn’t ever want me coming back here.’

    ‘I did not ever want you coming back here without my permission,’ she corrected. ‘But today I want to make some clarifications.’

    ‘Okay then,’ he replied. They walked together through the gate to the Eastside cemetery.

    Victoria took him back to the grave beneath the fallen tree. She stared at it until the branches slowly lifted themselves away, to fully reveal the…names. Of course, he should have made the connection.