It's a Wonderful Death - Sarah J. Schmitt Page 0,22
in the middle of America came up with this and we got hooked.”
Peter laughs as the bag skims over the edge of the target. “Yeah, plus chess took forever. A guy can die of boredom waiting for her to make a move.”
I start to ask when they think my Guardian Angels will be back, but Peter holds up his hand. “Shhh. I’m throwing here.”
“RJ, what’s your story?” Al asks, as she starts her turn. The bag spirals out of control and Peter has to dodge out of the way to avoid it.
He shoots her a warning glare. “Don’t start this again.”
“Sorry,” she says, but even I can tell she’s not. “Go on, RJ. Tell us your tale.”
I step farther away from them just in case their friendly game evolves into an all-out war and then tell them everything, starting with the fortune-teller and ending at the point when I was dropped off with them.
“That sucks,” Al says, ducking out of the way of one of Peter’s throws. The toss is definitely not an accident. “Hey!” she yells at him. “If you make it personal, it’s a forfeit. You know the rules.” He doesn’t act like he cares, but his next toss lands neatly in the hole. “Show off. Next time we double the distance,” she mutters before turning back to me. “What did the Reaper say?”
“That there was nothing he could do.”
“There isn’t,” Peter agrees. “Someone much more powerful would have to handle this mess, and I can’t think of anyone who would want to deal with it.”
“Why not?” I huff. “I thought this was the place miracles came from.”
“It is, but it’s not like you can just plop back into your life. In case you forgot, you died. By now people are probably preparing your body for burial, assuming you aren’t being cremated.”
The idea makes my stomach turn and I struggle against the wave of nausea that rolls over me, but Peter keeps going. “In order to have what you want to happen, the Fates would have to rewind the entire world.”
“But I’m not asking for the entire world to be reset. Just my life. I deserve a second chance.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Al says, lining up her next shot. “From what I hear, the ruling on your Afterlife isn’t cut and dry. Personally, if it were me, I would hang out here until your number’s up. You could play the winner.”
I can feel the color draining from my face. Is she saying I might actually end up in Hell? I mean, I know I haven’t always been nice to people, but still. Hell? There is no way I can let that happen. “It’s not like I’ve done anything really bad,” I stammer.
“Oh really?” she says, returning back to her game.
“Yeah, really,” I argue, not ready for this conversation to end. “It’s not like I killed anybody.”
This time it’s Peter who speaks. “What about that boy in your high school?”
“What are you talking about?” I say, looking between the two of them.
Neither of them is playing the game now. “The boy in your school. The one who killed himself.”
“You mean the guy in the bathroom? How is that my fault? He did that to himself.”
Peter’s eyes are gentle but stern. “But why did he do it?”
“How should I know?” I balk, still angry that they’re trying to pin someone else’s choice on me. “It’s not like we were friends.”
“No,” Al agrees.
I’m speechless. Is she really trying to pin a suicide on me?
“In all fairness,” Peter adds, “it wasn’t just her.”
“Right,” Al says, stretching out the word. “Her friends. The difference is they’re mean, self-centered people.”
“Oh, and why do they get an excuse and I don’t?” I ask, gritting my teeth.
“Because you’re better than they are,” Peter answers. “You were meant for so much more than you became.”
Okay, now I’m getting tired of riddles and lectures. “Whatever,” I say and cross my arms over my chest. I really wish Yeats and Hazel would hurry up.
With a sigh, Peter sits down on the ground and motions for me to do the same. “Everyone has a plan before them. They have a purpose. Each choice they make keeps them on their path or leads them off course.”
“Okay,” I say, still not understanding what he’s trying to say.
“Well, you were pretty far off the path. In fact, you weren’t even in the same forest you started in.”
My shoulders drop. “But I still had my whole life in front of me. Maybe I