It's a Wonderful Death - Sarah J. Schmitt Page 0,15
The woman who started this train wreck in the first place.”
Yeats’s face no longer holds any hint of amusement. In fact, he looks bored. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but you really need to take this seriously. Judgment isn’t a joke. I saw your life and, for a kid, you sure have a lot of things to answer for.”
He’s giving me the same look my principal gives when I’m pushing his patience too far. The one that tells me detention is one comeback away. “Okay, fine, what happens now?” I ask.
“You talk to me, we work through all the issues you had during your life, which could take a while, and then we meet up with Hazel.”
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“She’s my partner,” he answers, like that’s supposed to answer my question. “And she’s the Guardian who’s been with you the most while you were on Earth. She likes to see her charges when they arrive.”
“Wish she could have prevented me from being here in the first place,” I mutter.
“What was that?” Yeats asks.
“Nothing. What happens after we meet with Hazel?”
“I walk you through the process of atonement. Once you’re done, you’ll sit with the Gatekeeper.”
“Gatekeeper?”
“The Gatekeeper of Judgment.”
“What does he do?”
“It’s a she, actually, or she presents herself as a she.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. What does she do?”
“She delivers God’s verdict.”
“What if I don’t believe in God?”
He looks at me like he can’t believe what I’m asking. “Do you think all this is happening in your imagination?”
“No, I mean, what if I’m Buddhist or Hindu or something else?”
Understanding dawns on his face. “Do you think God cares what name you use? That’s something you humans get caught up in.”
He has a point and I realize I’m about to ask another question that will continue our philosophical conversation. Why is it so hard to keep my focus on getting back to the land of the living? I’m not here to debate the existence of a divine deity. I’m here to find someone who can get me back to my life. “Look, I just want to find someone who can help me. So whatever hoops I have to jump through, let’s do it. What’s next?”
“I don’t understand. You should have accepted your death by now. You’ve been through the Lobby, you’ve seen your life, and you’ve seen your funeral—”
“I didn’t see my funeral,” I say quickly.
This gets his attention. “Of course you did.”
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t. There was no funeral on my disc.”
“That’s odd. The funeral is part of the closure.” His face is now completely transparent as confusion ripples over it.
From somewhere in the distance, a woman’s voice is calling his name.
“Yeats.”
At first he doesn’t hear it. In fact, I have to nudge him to get his attention.
“What?” he asks with a start.
“Someone’s looking for you.”
Again, the voice calls out: “Yeats.” This time, there’s panic dripping from the word.
He jumps up. “That’s Hazel. Something’s wrong.” He answers her call with some weird angel language and the next thing I know, a ginger-haired beauty is standing before us, the whites of her eyes match the color of my eyelet sheets and there is undeniable terror in her face.
“Thank goodness you answered,” she says. “Yeats, we have a problem.”
“Relax,” he says, putting his arm around her shoulder to comfort her. “There’s never been a problem we couldn’t solve. What’s happened?”
Hazel is trembling like the last leaf left on a tree in November. This is my physical Guardian? No wonder I died.
“We’ve lost one of our charges,” she cries, burying her head in his robe. “I can’t find her anywhere. I just came back from Earth to check the Akashic Records and she’s not due to be here for decades.”
Yeats answers in a tight voice. “Who is it?” Hazel murmurs into his chest and he pushes her away, forcing her to look at him. “What did you say?”
“She calls herself RJ. She’s a self-absorbed princess who doesn’t seem to have any remorse about putting herself first and others last, but she’s redeemable, I know she is. But she’s gone. What do we do?”
I clear my throat. Hazel turns around and looks at me for a moment before her eyes grow wide as saucers.
“Hi,” I say, the words sounding as angry as I feel. “You can stop looking. I’m your self-absorbed princess.”
Chapter 7
Hazel’s face instantaneously switches from fear to jubilation. She rushes over and wraps me into a warm hug. I don’t return the embrace. In fact, I