Date with Death

Death kindly stopped for Emil. 

The old truck was something out of military surplus, painted a dark red with canvas stretched over the bed. The rumble of its engine vibrated the pavement, Emil’s car, the air itself. If he’d been looking at the half-moon, he might have noticed it vibrating too, shaking as if it might fall out of the sky. 

The truck slowed as it passed Emil. Its old brakes howled like angry beasts as it came to a stop. Its engine quieted, but there was still a hum in the air. A hand pulled back the canvas curtain in the back of the truck and a pale face peered out. Although there was no face, so pale head would’ve been more accurate.  

Emil reached for his phone, sitting on the seat beside him. No signal. He tried it anyway. It didn’t work. 

“Shit.” 

A thin figure in a red hoodie and worn jeans stepped out. Hands in her hoodie pockets, she glided toward him. The shadow of the hood covered her face, but a few locks of long white hair spilled out, falling down to her waist. 

 He thought about getting out to meet her halfway. It would be the polite thing to do, but instead, he waited. She strode with inerrant purpose to his window and tapped the glass with a single knuckle. 

He rolled down the window. He could see the lower part of her face now. Pale, almost white skin, perfectly smooth. Thin lips that betrayed neither joy nor malice. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hey,” she replied. “Car trouble?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been pushing my luck with this old girl. Engine just up and died on me.” 

She almost smiled. “Maybe I can take a look.” 

“Do you know anything about cars?” 

“No. Pop the hood.” 

She walked around to the front, raising the hood to hide behind it. He took stock of his surroundings. Some said the Old Crossroads were haunted. Some said they were a gateway to another world. He’d never believed them, but with the starless sky and the overwhelming silence, he felt for sure he wasn’t in the ordinary world anymore. 

He checked his phone again. Still dead. The whole world was still as the grave, a metaphor he didn’t like. But he couldn’t come up with a better one. 

Emil leaned out the window. He could see her elbow as she stood looking over his engine. 

“Are you Death?” he asked. 

“Yes, but you can call me Seker, Emil.” 

She knew his name. Of course, she knew his name. 

His dad had once told him the story of meeting Love at a party. According to the story, she’d set him up with a girl. That hadn’t worked out. But when that girl dumped him, he’d met mom nursing a heartache. And that had been good. Until the divorce, but even that was mostly amenable. 

“Am I dead?” he asked. 

She leaned over to look him. “Do you feel dead?” 

“No, but would I know what dead feels like?” 

She smiled this time. Slight, but it was there.  

“Oh, you’d know.” 

She pulled back her hood, and he expected a skull or flaming eyes or maybe horns. She had none of that. Just a thin face and two deep set dark eyes, and long white hair spilling everywhere. 

“You’re not dead,” she said. “And you’re not going to die tonight. So you can relax.” 

A faceless person slinked halfway out of Death’s truck. She turned and snapped her fingers at the wraith. “You’ll want to reconsider that. If you don’t come with me, you’ll find things a lot less pleasant in the long run. Trust me.” 

The wraith retreated into the truck. As the flap rustled, several more, perhaps two dozen, were visible, waiting in the back. 

Emil opened the door cautiously, but he saw no reason for her to lie to him about any of this. It was hard to believe that she needed to lure him out of his car to kill him. 

She held out her hand. Her sleeve went halfway up her palm. Her hand was delicate, with long, thin fingers and pointed red nails. Not long enough to be claws but still putting him in mind of danger. He hesitated to shake her hand. 

“It won’t kill you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said. “I’m not here for you.” She pulled back her hand and leaned over the engine. “Ah there’s your problem.” 

“What?” 

 “It’s not working,” she said. 

 “Oh.” 

 Seker shook her head. “That’s a joke, Emil.” 

 “Oh, I got that,” he replied. “That it was supposed to be a joke.” 

 “And you didn’t laugh because I’m Death, and you’re scared.” 

 “No, I didn’t laugh because it wasn’t funny.” 

 She stepped back, chewing her lip. “I suppose you could do better?” 

 “I don’t know. How about, She’s Dead, Jim?” 

“Your name’s not Jim. Also, I’ve heard that, or a variation of that, for decades now. And, trust me, it gets old.” 

 Emil shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it would.”

They stood over his car in silence for a few moments. 

“If you’re not here for me, why are you here?” he asked. 

“Moment of confluence,” she said. “Here you are, at the crossroads, under the half-moon, around midnight. On one side of the road, a cemetery. On the other, a field of flowers in bloom.” She pursed her lips. “A lot of incidental symbolism.” 

“That’s all it takes?”  

“Sometimes.” She closed the hood and sat on the car. “There’s usually more to it. Are you feeling suicidal?” 

“What? No.” 

 The shadows fell over her eyes, casting them in darkness. “You can be honest with me.” 

“No. I’m not. I swear.” 

“Perhaps you’re unaware of it. Feeling depressed lately? A little down?” 

“No. I mean, things aren’t perfect, but I’m doing okay.” 

“There’s no shame in admitting you’re a bad place. We all have days like that.” 

“I’m not depressed or down. Everything’s good enough right now.” 

“Good enough,” she repeated with a skeptical tone. 

“Are you saying the only way I could run across you would be if I had a deathwish?” 

She arched her eyebrows, and the darkness fell away from her face. “Well, I can’t really say for certain. Sometimes, things just happen. The universe is funny like that.” She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and offered him one. 

“No, thanks.” 

“Smart. These things’ll kill you.” She tucked the cigarette in her mouth with a sly smile. “Of course, something always does. Eventually.” 

Emil caught himself smiling back. She wasn’t, strictly speaking, his type, though he also wasn’t sure he had a type. Most of his relationships had been products of happenstance and circumstance. He’d never actually ended up in one with intention. So his dates and girlfriends ran a gamut of personality and physicality. But they had all been human beings at least. 

“Nice night,” she said. 

He sat on the hood beside her and took in the starless sky. The silence, the unnaturally bright moon, the crossroads leading into darkness in every direction, it all put him in mind of someplace both alien and familiar. The world behind the world, where personifications of abstract concepts carried out their work. 

“You aren’t in a rush?” he asked. “Don’t have a schedule to keep?” 

“I work on my own schedule.” Seker waved away the truck of souls. “They’ll keep.” She nodded to him. “How about you? Got anyplace to be?” 

“No. Not really.” 

He did have someplace, but Dante wouldn’t miss him for a few minutes more. He wasn’t eager to leave just yet. There was something about this place. Something comfortable about this limbo where all his responsibilities and concerns didn’t matter. It came as a tremendous relief to just be here right now. 

“Shit,” he said. “Maybe I am depressed.” 

“If you aren’t depressed at least a little, you aren’t paying attention.” 

“That’s a bit cynical.” 

“I prefer to think of it as being a realist.” She winked at him. Her hair fell across her face, and she brushed it aside with her cigarette hand. 

“You aren’t going to light that?” 

She mimed blowing smoke. “Oh, I don’t smoke them. I just suck on them for my oral fixation. Sometimes, I do lollipops, but there’s always some dude who gets off on that.” 

She put the cigarette between her lips, and, feeling a bit perverse, he looked away. 

“I have a six pack of soda in the car. And some chips,” he said. “The soda’s warm.” 

“Beggars, choosers.” 

He retrieved the beverages and opened the bag of generic chips, offered her one. She reached into the bag with a nod. “Thanks, Emil. You’re a gentleman.” 

She ate a chip, drank some soda, lowered her head to contemplate the ground. 

“Do you ever wonder what the point of it is?” she asked. 

“Of what?” 

“Life. Death. Everything.” 

“You don’t know?” he said. 

She took another chip. “That’s funny.” 

“You didn’t laugh.” 

 Seker glanced over shoulder at him, and her dark sunken eyes burrowed into him, chilling his bones, reminding him on a cellular level how mortal he was. It wasn’t an awful feeling, and that surprised him. But it shouldn’t have. People spent their lives risking death for the thrill. He wasn’t one of those people, but for the first time, he sort of understood it. 

 She leaned closer, and he didn’t lean back, mesmerized by the tiny lights dancing in her dark eyes. 

 “Not Ha Ha funny,” she said, turning away, breaking the spell. 

“So here we are, just an immortal personification and a decaying bag of meat, passing by on our respective journeys. Makes you think, doesn’t it?” 

“Does it?” he said. 

“Hell if I know.” Seker folded her arms and nodded to the car. “Try it now.” 

After a bit of a struggle, the engine turned over. 

“You fixed it,” he said. 

“More like I delayed its death a little while more. Best I can do.” She pulled her hood over her head and tucked her hands in her pockets. “Have a good night.” 

She was halfway to her truck when he jumped out and chased after her. 

 “Hey, I’m sorry if I was rude.” 

She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m used to it.” 

“I just wanted to say thanks.” 

He held out his hand, and Seker shook it. Her skin was cold. Not icy, but not warm either. Her grip was firm, and if she didn’t let go he’d never free himself. 

She released him and climbed back into her truck. She leaned out the window. Her face was covered in shadow, but the dangling cigarette bobbed as she spoke. 

“Be seeing you, Emil. Eventually.” 

 “Now that’s funny,” he said. 

“You didn’t laugh.” 

“Not Ha Ha funny,” he said. 

 She chuckled as she ducked into the cab. The truck’s engine rumbled to life again. It rolled away into the black night. When its red lights faded away, the Old Crossroads grew darker and colder. Shadows spilled from the edges of the world, and he thought this place would fade away from existence, taking him with it. But then the stars came back and a breeze kicked up. The chirp of crickets became deafening. 

Emil drove his car into the night.