The Banshee Chronicles

You're Going to Die Today

“So, what are you trying to tell me? That you’re the Grim Reaper come to harvest my soul?” questioned the business man sitting across the table from me. “Or are you the devil come to broker a deal – ten more years at the price of eternal damnation?”

Bryan O’Grady was the CEO of an international corporation headquartered here in Manhattan. Recently the company had been involved in a scandal. Large amounts of money had been misappropriated, and all fingers were pointed at Mr. O’Grady. Stress was evident on the man’s rounded face.

“I have no interest in your soul.” I said flatly. I had no empathy for this man. I was just doing my job.

“Then what are you interested in?” He asked confrontationally. “Money? If this is a con you must take me for a complete imbecile.”

“I want nothing from you.” I told him. “It’s simply my job to warn you that this is your last day.”

“Your job?” He scoffed. “Who do you work for, the IRS?”

“No. We’ve a bit grimmer reputation.” I said cryptically. There was no need to explain what I was or why I did my job. Most people these days don’t believe me when I do tell them, and I had a feeling this particular man wouldn’t even have the patience to listen.

“Well, whatever your game is, you’re wasting my time.” Mr. O’Grady said sternly as he stood up from the table. “Excuse me.”

I watched the portly fellow for a few moments as he turned and walked away with agitated strides. I wondered if he would pay my warning any heed at all, or if death would take him completely by surprise the way it did most people. For some reason I suspected it would be the latter. I doubted he would even take time out of his busy schedule to call either his wife or his mistress to tell her he loved her before his time came.

I diverted my eyes towards the window of the small café in which I sat and watched the pedestrians pass by while I sipped at my hot tea. I noticed Meara’s reflection in the glass as she approached my table. Like me, she was tall and slender with pale skin, dark eyes, and pure white hair. I wore mine short and slicked back while hers was a wild mane that danced like silver fire around her head. We both wore impeccably tailored, black business clothes.

“There you are Liam.” She greeted me as she sat down in the seat Bryan O’Grady had occupied just minutes before. “How’s business going for you this morning?”

“As usual.” I said unenthusiastically. “I finished with my fourth client just now.”

“Oh, and how did he take the news?” Meara asked, leaning forward inquisitively and resting her elbows on the table.

“He didn’t believe me.”

“How boring.” She complained.

“I just told a plumber that he was going to die and he actually wetted himself.” Meara laughed. “You should have seen it.”

“Why do we do this?” I asked suddenly, a little irritated by her flippant attitude.

“Pardon?” She said.

“Why do we warn these people that they’re going to die?” My eyes settled despondently on the cup of tea in front of me.

“Because we’re banshees. Fifteen hundred years ago five Gaelic lords rallied their armies to defend a sacred grove of the Seelie Court. In return, we promised to warn any member of their families if they were about to die.” Meara reminded me.

“Oh, thanks for the history lesson.” I said sarcastically. “I know all about the oath. I was there, remember? And just for the record, I don’t like the term ‘banshee’.”

“Why not?” She asked teasingly. “Is it because of that expression about ‘wailing banshees’, or is it because it implies you’re a woman?”

“Let’s just call ourselves what we were – ‘fairies’ or ‘fey’.”

“Yeah, because ‘fairy’ makes you sound so much less gay.”

“You’re missing my point.” A hint of anger had crept into my voice.

“I’m sorry.” Meara feigned innocence. “What was your point?”

“Never mind.” I diverted my eyes once again to the pedestrians outside the café window. How many of these people would be dead before the day was out without even the courtesy of a warning? I could feel Meara’s eyes still on me, studying me.

“Lighten up Liam.” she said as she leaned back in her chair. “It’s a grim business we’re in, but you’ve got to find the humor in it.”

“How did you get to be so callous?” I asked, my eyes turning back to her.

“Oh, come on!” She protested. “You can’t tell me you feel sorry for that pig you just warned. Ha! I’ve got a cousin who could turn him into an actual pig. Now that would be a laugh!”

“No. I don’t feel sorry for him.” I conceded.

“Then why so glum?”

My eyes went back to the window. I didn’t know how to answer.

“How many more do you have to warn this morning?” Meara inquired when the silence became awkward.

“Just two.”

“Who are they?”

“An old recluse holed up in the Bronx, and a…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

“A child?” She asked perceptively. I just nodded.

“Boy or girl?”

“Girl.” The word caught in my throat.

“You never were good with children.” Meara remarked as she reached across the table and gently squeezed my hand. “What I do is just focus on all of the heartache and disappointment they won’t have to look forward to.”

“And you call me grim.” I quipped as I blinked back a tear. Her words were cold, but I was grateful for the warmth of her hand on mine. In a minute I had regained my composure and turned back to my partner. She withdrew her hand and straightened up in her seat.

“Well, I had better be going.” She said, standing up. “I’ve still got three more clients to warn before noon.”

“All right.” I said, taking one last sip of my tea before getting up myself. “I should be on my way too.”

“I’ll see you later Liam.” Meara waved goodbye.


*****


I found the apartment of Michael O’Connor in a dirty and rundown building. I rapped hard on the door and waited for him to answer. I knew he was there but he wouldn’t come to the door. After knocking three times without any answer I decided to go in. I pressed two fingers against the metal of the lock on the door and heard the tumblers slide under the power of my enchanted touch. I couldn’t turn men into swine the way Meara’s cousin could, but I had a few tricks of my own. With a turn of the knob the door creaked open. The apartment was dark, and my body cast a long shadow through the doorway from the light in the hall. With eyes like a cat’s, I could perceive the old man cowering in the darkness with a gun in his hand aimed at me.

“Michael O’Connor?” I greeted him. He made no reply. “I’m here to deliver a message.”

“What message?” His voice was shaky.

“You’re going to die today.”

“Oh, Lord!” He exclaimed as he threw down his gun. His legs gave out beneath him and he leaned heavily against the wall behind him as he gradually sunk to the floor.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” He gasped.

“Who’s that?” I asked as I stepped softly into the apartment.

“The white-haired man who told my father he was going to die.”

“Yes, I gave your father the same warning.” I remembered Michael O’Connor’s father clearly. He had died a relatively young man, only thirty-two years old. That had been more than sixty years ago. “He didn’t believe me.”

“No, he didn’t.” Michael confirmed. “But I was there. I cracked open the door to spy on you. I heard what you told him, and sure enough he died that evening. Are you the Angel of Death?”

“Something like that.” I said.

“How will it happen?” The aged man was visibly shaken.

“I can’t tell you that.” The truth was Michael O’Connor would be stabbed in a mugging on his way to a convenience store that evening, but I wasn’t allowed to tell him that. It was against the rules.

“Then how can I stop it?” His eyes were desperate.

“You can’t.” I told him. Actually, he could prevent his death if he only stayed in his apartment that evening, but the old man wouldn’t know that.

“Then why did you tell me?”

“Just to give you warning.” I explained. “Your ancestors performed a great favor in behalf of me and my kind. This is our repayment.”

“So, what do I do?” He asked.

“What any man does when he knows he has less than twenty-four hours to live.” I shrugged. “Pray to your god; hug your family; light up a cigarette. Do whatever you want with the time you have left, just try to make the most of it.”

Michael O’Connor’s eyes wandered away from mine and he began nodding absently. I could tell what I had told him was sinking in, and he was beginning to maul over how he should use his last day of life. Having completed my task here, I turned and walked away, leaving him to his fate.


*****


Here was the hard part. This was the responsibility I’d been dreading all morning. I was standing on the sidewalk next to an iron fence. On the other side of the fence was a small playground that belonged to a daycare. This was where Kaylee Kavanagh spent many mornings while her mother and father were at work. I watched little Kaylee toss a ball back and forth with one of her little playmates. I worked my magic again and a sudden gust of wind blew the ball off course and sent it bouncing in my direction. A final touch of enchantment let its last bounce take it right over the fence where I caught it before it bounced into the road. As I expected, Kaylee came running to the fence. The mess of red curls atop her head betrayed her Gaelic ancestry. Her tiny hands were extended expectantly, and her small voice was pleading.

“Can I please have my ball?” She said to me.

“Are you Kaylee?” I asked, crouching down to meet her at eye level.

“Yes. Do you know me?” Her face became quizzical.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” She asked. How do you tell a child that they’re going to die? In my experience, the best way is to be as straight forward as possible.

“Kaylee, you’re going to die today.” I wished that I could take back the words even as I spoke them. Fear instantly clouded Kaylee’s eyes. A knot formed in my heart.

“It will happen very quickly.” I told her. In fact, Kaylee’s mom would drive them both into an intersection right as a semi’s brakes failed and it plowed through a red light. The collision would kill them both instantly. “It will only hurt for a moment.”

“Mister, can I please have my ball.” The little girl pleaded again. Her eyes had become moist.

“Make sure you tell your mother and father that you love them, and say goodbye to your friends.” I advised her. She was visibly trembling. Standing up, I gently tossed the ball back over the fence. Kaylee grabbed it and immediately turned and ran away from me. She was frightened, because she believed what I had told her. Up to a certain age, children are very keen to detect the truth when they hear it. And I’ve also observed that children can often sense my inhuman nature.

I was sorry I’d frightened her, but at least my job here was now done. In spite of that, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away just yet. I continued to watch Kaylee as she played for some time until her mother arrived to pick her up. Kaylee ran excitedly towards her mother as soon as she saw her, but froze in her tracks when she was half way there. She turned back to face her playmates, and with an uncommon sadness in her eyes she said ‘goodbye’ to everyone.

“Hi Mommy! I love you!” I heard Kaylee say as her mother bent down to scoop up her precious daughter. “Can we go to the zoo?”

“The zoo?” Her mother asked. “But we’re supposed to go buy you new shoes today. How about we go to the zoo tomorrow?”

“No Mommy, it has to be today.” Kaylee complained. Her mother detected an unusual sullenness in the tone of the request and relented. She was visibly unsettled by her daughter’s somber attitude.

“Can I call Daddy?” Was Kaylee’s next request.

“What for?” Her mother asked.

“To tell him I love him.”

“That’s very sweet Kaylee, but Daddy’s probably busy right now. We’ll see him in a few hours.” Her mother explained.

“I can’t wait that long!” Kaylee protested.

“Why not?” Her mother asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Kaylee grew silent for a moment as she put on her bravest face. “It’s just really important.”

“OK.” The little girl’s mother relented again, though it was obvious she was growing more concerned by the moment. The woman dug her cell phone out of her purse as her and Kaylee finally disappeared from view. I retrieved my own cell phone as I turned to walk away.

“Hey Liam, what’s up?” Meara answered her own phone.

“Dinner tonight?” I offered.

“Sure. How about Fifteen East?” She suggested.

“No. Let’s try something new. There’s a small Italian place on the corner of Twelfth Street and Ninth.”

“Fine by me.” She agreed.


*****


“Good evening.” Meara said as she approached the table. She had traded her black business clothes for a stylish black dress and pearls. “How are you doing?”

“Good.” I told her with a smile, as I stood up to help her with her chair.

“Wow, Liam.” She remarked as she settled into her seat. “You’re uncommonly cheery this evening.”

“I suppose I am.” I conceded as I returned to my own chair. I took a moment to admire my beautiful companion. She tossed waves of silvery white hair over her left shoulder, revealing the subtle curve of her throat. Meara had ample charms. She was stunningly gorgeous, even for a fairy. It had been a few hundred years since I had noticed it, but tonight I felt more alive than I had in a long, long time, and I was seeing everything through fresh eyes.

“What’s changed?” She inquired.

“Nothing much.” I lied. We placed our orders with the waiter and engaged in idle chatter for a few minutes. Our table was situated near a window, and as time passed I glanced out at the street with increasing frequency. Finally, when I turned back to Meara after one lingering glance, I found her watching me with suspicion.

“What are you up to?” She asked pointedly. I couldn’t restrain a sly grin from spreading across my face.

“See that black SUV parked across the street?” I asked her.

“Yes.”

“Watch it for a moment.” I instructed her. She complied, and we both sat silently watching the vehicle for a minute and a half.

“What am I supposed to be watching for?” She finally asked, beginning to grow impatient.

“This.” I said, as young Kaylee Kavanagh came walking up to the vehicle holding her mother’s hand. Her mother opened the car door and helped the little girl inside. We could still see them through the windshield of the SUV. Kaylee’s mother appeared confused, and then annoyed, as she tried to start the vehicle but the engine wouldn’t turn over. After a few minutes of frustration, she finally retrieved her cell phone to call for help.

“That little girl is supposed to die in four minutes,” I explained, “but if her mother can’t get their vehicle to start I guess she’ll have to miss her appointment.”

Meara turned back to me with accusing eyes.

“This is your doing, isn’t it?” She said. I made no reply, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

“You know that’s against the rules.” She challenged. “The aristocracy won’t be happy with you.”

“I can accept that.” I acknowledged, taking a sip from the hot tea our waiter had delivered while we were watching the scene unfolding across the street. Meara watched me with calculating eyes for a few moments before her lips gradually curled into a mischievous smile.

“Put down that tea, Dear.” She told me. “We need to order some champagne.”

This was the beginning of something new. I could feel it. It was going to be thrilling and beautiful.