It's a Wonderful Death - Sarah J. Schmitt Page 0,5
“Was someone else wearing it?”
Slowly, he begins to nod. “She was.”
“A woman in a pretty dress, maybe?” Sandy prompts, giving me a victory smile.
The man’s head snaps up, his eyes growing clearer by the second.
“How did you know?” he demands, the dazed look gone.
Sandy takes a step back just as I answer, “I, uh, I saw a woman with a helmet. She was wearing a fancy white—”
“Where?” he bellows, stepping over the rope line. The person behind him moves up to fill the void, oblivious to the confrontation taking place right in front of him.
He looks wildly around the room until he sees the woman. His eyes grow wide and a guttural howl echoes throughout the hall. I look around, expecting everyone to be watching us, but like the man who took his place in line, no one seems to be aware of anything. The biker rushes past, knocking me and everyone in his path out of the way until he reaches the dead bride. Dropping to his knees, he lays his head down in her lap and begins to weep.
It’s the first expression of emotion I’ve seen since my arrival, unless I count the old people with their geriatric posse. At first, the woman just looks blankly over the biker’s trembling body. Then, almost automatically, she lays one hand on the back of his head and absently strokes his hair. When her eyes drift down, she watches as his body shakes with sobs until, finally, she lifts his chin up. Their eyes meet and her blank stare vanishes as tears begin to stream down her face.
“What’s happening?” I whisper to Sandy, who looks as freaked out as I feel.
“No idea,” she admits, not able to take her eyes off the scene. Her body is stiff as a board. “This has never happened before. Maybe it’s you.”
Oh no. She is not blaming this on me. Gideon’s warning to keep a low profile echoes in my mind. So much for that plan.
“I’m so sorry,” the biker says over and over. “I didn’t mean …”
She shushes him, leaning down to kiss him lightly on the lips. The moment they connect, a squadron of figures in white jumpsuits surrounds them, gently pulling the man to his feet and hustling both him and the woman through the unmarked door. One of them remains behind and turns to scan the room. Sandy shrinks behind me.
“Don’t let her see me,” she hisses, but it’s too late. The angelic-looking being makes a beeline toward us. By the time she reaches us, her face is no longer beautiful. Instead, it’s a canvas of fury.
“Sandra Donaldson,” her voice rings out and the sweetness is a direct contrast to the anger on her face. “What have you done now?”
Sandy slinks out from my shadow. “Hey, Lillith.”
“Don’t ‘hey’ me, Sandra. You know you aren’t supposed to interact with the new arrivals. Just because you’re pining for your happy-never-after doesn’t give you the right to jeopardize the fate of others.”
I look between Sandy and Lillith. What does she mean by happy-never-after and who hit this chick with the rude stick?
As if hearing my thoughts, Lillith turns and looks pointedly at me. “And you aren’t supposed to corrupt them, either.”
“I didn’t mean to cause a problem,” Sandy argues. “I just asked what happened.”
“What did you think was going to happen?” Lillith snaps. “And why would you reconnect him with the woman? You know the emotional trauma that could cause. Even for you this is a new low.”
“Actually,” I say slowly, “that was me.”
“But she didn’t know what could happen,” Sandy says, jumping in before Lillith can admonish me.
I give her a sharp look. “I don’t need you to defend me.”
“Both of you, quiet,” Lillith commands.
I turn to argue, but I can’t. I mean, I literally cannot open my mouth or utter a sound. I look at Sandy. She isn’t even trying to speak. Who is this woman and why is Sandy afraid of her?
Finally, our silence is met with a look of satisfaction and Lillith continues. “Until souls have gone through processing, we try to keep them unaware of certain events in their life that might prohibit their progress through the Afterlife. You two have managed to mess that up.” She turns to Sandy. “From you, I’m not surprised, but you,” she says, turning her steely eyes toward me. “Didn’t I just see you come off the train? This is indeed unexpected.”
She cocks her head as if hearing a sound from somewhere far