Breadcrumb #630
ALEX BUXTON
Death rested the end of his scythe in the dust and said a silent prayer for the small body in the canyon, still some way off. He looked around. It was hotter than hell out here, and twice as dusty. A dreadful place to be wearing black.
‘Are you Death?’
A small voice at Death’s side brought him back to the present.
‘Who are you?’
The little girl pointed to the body up ahead, and then her own face.
‘Don’t you recognize me?’
Death craned his neck.
‘Oh, yeah, of course.’
‘If you can’t see from here, we could go closer.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ said Death hurriedly. ‘We don’t have to go closer.’
“It was hotter than hell out here, and twice as dusty.”
‘Do you kill people with that?’
She was pointing to his scythe now.
‘Not really, people are generally already dead by the time I get there.’
‘So what’s it for?’
Death shrugged.
‘It’s good to lean on sometimes.’
‘What don’t you want to go closer?’
Death squinted into the midday sun. Flies were starting to settle on the little girl’s corporeal remains.
‘I don’t really like dead bodies.’
The girl didn’t say anything, she just stood looking at herself lying amongst the rocks.
‘No offense.’
The girl looked at her feet.
‘Well,’ said Death, ‘we need to get going,’ and he started off through the desert.
After a few seconds the girl trotted after him.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
Death scratched his head. Why did everyone ask that?
‘I don’t know,’ he answered truthfully.
‘Will my parents be there?’
Death did a quick mental calculation.
‘Not for a few years yet I’m afraid.’
‘Oh.’
There was silence.
‘Your grandma’ll be there,’ Death eventually offered, in an attempt to cheer her up.
‘Yeah?’
After that Death had run out of things to say.
They walked on through the stifling heat. It really is hotter than hell out here, Death thought to himself.
Eventually, the girl piped up again.
‘How much further is it?’
‘We’re nearly there,’ Death told her. ‘Not far to go now.’
The silence alone could kill you in a place like this.
Death found his mind wandering. He looked at the baked, red rocks all around them, carved smooth by millenia of winds, and wondered if, if he was mortal, he’d find them beautiful. He poked one moodily with the end of his scythe as they passed.
‘Will you hold my hand?’
Death left the rocks alone and looked down at his companion.
‘I’m scared.’
Death reached out a hooded sleeve and felt her small hand tighten around his.
‘Your hand feels funny.’
‘Sorry, they’re not really meant for holding.’
‘That’s alright.’
They were at the door now. Sensing their approach, it opened for them. The girl stopped. They stood together, looking at the door.
‘I can’t go with you, it’s against the rules.’
‘Are you sure?’
Death nodded.
‘When will I see grandma?’
‘I don’t know.’
The girl still didn’t move.
As gently as he could, Death put his arms around the little girl and picked her up. He could feel her wrap her limbs around him, burrowing into the space where you’d expect to find a chest with a beating heart. He wondered what that must be like. Softly, he stepped forward towards the door.
‘It won’t hurt.’
She nodded against his neck as he reached through the door and put her down on the other side. As he withdrew his arms she opened her mouth to say something, but before she could make a sound the door closed, and Death was left alone once more in the desert.
He stood for a minute, trying to think of something to say back, then started off again through the dust.