Read Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross Online

Authors: B.L. Newport

Tags: #adventure, #gay, #ghosts, #goth, #grim reaper, #lesbian, #romance, #spirits

Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross (13 page)

BOOK: Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross
8.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Is my mom there?”

It was his first spoken words to her. Brigit
felt the depth of his question on her heart. He had been waiting a
long time for his parents to come back. Of course he would want to
see his mom again.

“If she isn’t, she will be soon,” Brigit
replied. “Do you see that door there?” she pointed at the plain
white door to her left.

“That’s the pantry,” Bobby pointed out.

“That’s the way to where you need to go. They
have so much fun on the other side. Are you ready to go make some
new friends?” she asked.

Bobby sat up and eyed the door suspiciously
for a second while he made up his mind. He looked back to Brigit to
see whether she might be pulling his leg. When he realized she
wasn’t, he nodded enthusiastically. Still holding the child’s hand,
Brigit stood and walked with him to the pantry door. While the door
had been purposely built with the house, Brigit had felt the energy
that was vibrating behind it when she had first taken Bobby
Hooper’s hand. It was his portal, his entry to the eternal
sing-along.

When they were near the door, Brigit put her
ear to the door. Playing ‘monkey-see-monkey-do’, Bobby did the
same. A broad smile lifted his chubby cheeks as the music drifted
through the wood to his ears. The lady had been right. Everybody
was singing and having a good time.

“Can you hear it Bobby? Can you hear the
music?” She looked down and saw him nod excitedly. Brigit pulled
away from the door and slowly opened it. Bobby looked up at her. A
light of gratitude was dancing in his brown eyes.

“Bobby Hooper,” Brigit said. “
May you find
eternal peace,
little man.”

Bobby wasted no more time in the kitchen of
the house he had last seen his parents in. The music from the room
behind the pantry door was blaring, calling him to join in. He
flashed a broad grin at the tall lady in black and darted through
the door. Brigit closed it gently behind him. A smile was burning
across her face as she left the small house.

Brigit returned directly to the office. John
was sorting through a pile of portfolios at his desk when she sat
down across from him. He was still hunting for candidates, she
guessed. He glanced up at her briefly.

“You’re back, finally,” he said. He sounded
bored or annoyed, Brigit was unsure.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “Did you know
London Bridge
could be so repetitive?” she asked, deciding
to ignore the tone of his remark. John looked up at her and was
surprised by the smile on her face.

“No, I was unaware. I was never much of a
singer as a child, I’m afraid. How were your assignments?”

"The first one was interesting,” Brigit
began. She explained the tactic of breaking Matthew-Matilda Swenson
from the time loop he was on by letting him tell his story. John
listened intently, nodding his head occasionally to express his
approval for what she had done.

“Very good,” he finally said. “How about the
second one? Bobby Hooper?”

“That,” Brigit sighed, “was a lot of
fun.”

12: Moving On

The next few weeks passed quickly. Brigit and
John were set to their tasks of reaping those who had waited the
longest to pass to the other side. A few were unruly, but Brigit
found that she was becoming more comfortable with her instincts and
somewhat used to the possibility of a fight. There had been a
couple of close calls with the darker spirits, but in the end,
Brigit had managed to get them through the appropriate door and on
to face their fates.

The season continued its change during those
few weeks. The air grew colder; the leaves had long left their
posts on the trees. Brigit occasionally took a few minutes to look
around her. She noted the changes in the scenery and began to guess
as to the day of the month. Her internal clock was going silent.
All she had to judge time by now was Maggie’s leaving for work in
the morning and the setting sun. Seconds had become minutes to
Brigit, and minutes had become hours.

Her home time was spent in silent
observation. Maggie’s grief was still present, but Brigit could see
that it was becoming thinner with each passing day. As each layer
of grief was buried, Maggie would remove some small reminder of
their life together. A picture here, a keepsake there… Brigit
watched her lover take the items and store them in a small box in
the hall closet. As each object was removed from its resting place,
Brigit felt a piece of her heart crack with the sadness of it. When
she lay down beside Maggie in the darkness, she reminded herself to
stand strong in her promise to wait for Maggie. It didn’t matter
that the physical reminders of their love were slowly vanishing.
Brigit was keeping her promise. Maggie would keep the memory.

Mama Dee came and went as frequently as ever.
Although she never verbally expressed why, Brigit watched her
friend as she fussed over Maggie and engaged her in conversation at
the dinner table. When the two women would erupt into laughter,
Brigit laughed with them. When they grew silent because they had
come too close to a memory of Brigit, Brigit would sigh and gently
touch each of them on the shoulder. She could feel their warmth
under her hand. They felt only the shiver that ran through them
from where she had touched them.

November passed into December by the turning
of the calendar on the wall in the kitchen. Brigit had stood beside
Maggie as she had taken this inane chore under task and they both
sighed deeply at the reminder that Christmas was coming soon. It
would be the first holiday that a tree was not dragged home and
hours spent decorating it. It would be the first holiday that the
special presents weren’t exchanged at midnight and the rest of them
exchanged at dawn. It would be the first Christmas that their
rituals would not be observed. Brigit had reached out to take
Maggie’s hand, hoping to reassure her in some small measure that
she was still present; but Maggie turned and walked away. The
opening and closing of the front door let Brigit know that Maggie
had gone for the day.

It was two weeks later when Brigit found
Maggie turning a new page. She had just come in from the office and
was walking through the quiet house in search of Maggie when there
was a knock at the door. Brigit stopped as Maggie came dashing from
the bedroom trying to affix an earring to her ear lobe and actually
passed
through
her on the way to the door. The shock of that
sensation froze Brigit where she stood. The warm waves from
Maggie’s energy washed through her from head to toe to fingertip.
When she turned to look at her partner, she realized Maggie was
dressed for a night on the town – for a date…

Maggie had opened the door and found Mama Dee
standing on the other side. Her graying hair was covered in the
knit cap she had made for herself earlier in the fall. A matching
scarf was wound around her neck up to her nose.

“Oh, it’s you, Mama. Come in,” Maggie said as
she still struggled with the earring.

“You sure do look nice, child. Where is this
girl taking you?” Mama Dee asked as she began to unwind the scarf
from her neck. Brigit stood in the door way watching, resisting the
spark of anger that was trying to ignite in her.

“To Duchevney’s on Sixth Avenue. She’s said
she would be here by now,” Maggie said frustratedly.

“I hope she has a good reason for being
late,” Mama Dee said with a disapproving shake of her head.

“I’m sure she does, Mama,” Maggie sighed as
she finally managed to clasp the earring. She stood up straight and
turned for her friend to see. “Do I really look okay?” Maggie
asked.

Brigit bit her lip as she looked at her
partner. Maggie was wearing the black velvet cocktail dress Brigit
had picked out for her the year before on the occasion of her own
company Christmas party. Maggie had looked as hot in it then as she
did now. The spark of anger was starting to turn somewhat green as
she let her eyes wander down the silhouette of Maggie’s body.

“You look beautiful. Now, tell me again how
you met this girl?” Mama Dee instructed as she sank onto the sofa
and pulled the knit cap from her grey head. Little curls sprang
free at various points on her crown.

“I met her on the bus three weeks ago. She
works downtown for a law firm – I forget the name. It’s long,
that’s all I can tell you right now. Anyway, she’s made junior
partner and she’s extremely intelligent. We’ve managed to talk
every morning on our way to work. I like her, Mama…” Maggie
measured her words as she said them. Brigit wondered why Maggie
would have to think about what she was saying. It seemed as if she
might be unsure of what she was really feeling. At least, that was
Brigit’s interpretation of it.

Mama Dee was about to say something more when
a second knock sounded at the door. Maggie jumped to open it. On
the other side, a huge bouquet of flowers masked the face of the
person holding them. When they were lowered to reveal the woman
presenting them, Brigit immediately decided she didn’t like her.
Quickly, she glanced at Mama Dee to assess her opinion of the
stranger. Mama Dee, ever the lady, gave nothing away.

“Sorry I’m late,” the woman said as she
stepped into the living room.

She was wearing a black pin-striped
power-suit, the teal silk shirt beneath its coat opened to the top
line of her cleavage. Her dark brown hair had been swept up into a
tight French curl and secured by an ebony clasp. Brigit looked to
the floor to see that the woman was wearing black velveteen pumps
on her feet. It was a costume she probably donned everyday, Brigit
mused as she returned her gaze to the new woman’s face. To make it
worse, she had a broad, charming smile on her face. Brigit took a
couple of steps forward and stood just behind Maggie, as if to
reassert her invisible presence in the room.

“These are beautiful!” Maggie gushed as she
examined the bouquet that had been passed to her.

“I found them on my way here. I had the limo
driver circle the block so I could buy them for you, hence, the
reason I am late.” the stranger bragged. Brigit rolled her eyes and
looked to Mama Dee for support. Mama Dee only stood from where she
was sitting, reminding Maggie that she was still in the room.

“Oh, Mama, this is Lorena Rubens. Lorena,
this is Mama Dee. She’s my neighbor and dearest friend,” Brigit
introduced. Lorena Rubens strode toward Mama Dee with her hand
outstretched in greeting. Mama Dee took it and they shook; but
Brigit noticed the hesitation in Mama Dee’s actions. Brigit felt a
sudden surge of relief. Mama Dee didn’t like her either.
Good
, Brigit thought,
it’s not just me

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Dee,”
Lorena said.

“And you,” Mama replied politely.

“I better put these in some water,” Maggie
said.

“I’ll take care of that for you, child,” Mama
Dee offered. She took the large bouquet from Maggie and turned to
face Lorena Rubens. “Where are you taking my only daughter?”

Maggie and Lorena laughed lightly at Mama’s
question. Brigit and Mama Dee remained silent in waiting for the
response.

“I’ve made eight o’clock reservations at
Duchevney’s on Sixth Avenue. Would you care to join us?” Lorena
offered. “They have a wonderful menu. The chef is a dear friend of
mine.”

Brigit rolled her eyes again. More bragging.
It was not an endearing quality.

“Oh no,” Mama replied. “You all go and have a
good time.”

“Thank you, Mama,” Maggie said as she opened
the hall closet and pulled out the black silk wrap Brigit had also
picked out to go with the cocktail dress. “I’ll call you when I get
home.”

“Alright then,” Mama Dee said as she received
a kiss on the cheek from Maggie.

“It was lovely to meet you, Miss Dee,” Lorena
Rubens said as she opened the door for Maggie and waited for her to
pass. Mama Dee made no reply as she watched the door close behind
the two younger women. Finally, a deep sigh escaped the little old
woman and she turned to make her way to the kitchen. Brigit
followed closely, her anger and jealousy erupting.

“How could you let her do this?” Brigit asked
as she followed her friend.

“She’s got to move on, I suppose,” Mama
muttered.

Brigit stopped. Had Mama Dee heard her?

“The girl can’t spend the rest of her life
alone. It’s a shame, really. She was so happy with Brigit,” Mama
went on. Brigit’s shoulders slumped and she sank against the wall.
“But this girl here, she looks like maybe she can take care of
Maggie. That’s what she needs. Someone to watch over her.”

“I’m watching over her,” Brigit replied.

“She needs someone to hold her and love her,”
Mama added.

“I hold her every night and I love her for
all eternity,” Brigit put in.

Brigit watched Mama Dee take a large vase
from the cupboard and fill it with water. Then, she set to the task
of removing the bouquet from the cellophane wrapper and trimming
the stems before arranging the bouquet in the vase. A stubborn
silence had over come Mama Dee as Brigit watched. When the bouquet
was set, Mama Dee swept the trimmings into a pile on the counter
before scooping them up in her plump hands and forcefully dumping
them in the garbage. Mama was angry; but at what, Brigit had no
clue.

Carefully, Mama set the vase on the kitchen
table so Maggie would see it when she came in to make her coffee in
the morning. She paused after setting it down. She could feel the
cold spot to her left and she knew she wasn’t alone. Mama had felt
it before and she had the inclination that it was a familiar spirit
that moved through the rooms of the apartment Maggie had shared
with Brigit. Once, Mama Dee had thought, she had even heard the
familiar voice. It was a feeling she had possessed since the night
of the accident – a gift she had carried silently since childhood.
She could feel and hear the unseen and, lately, it had been growing
stronger than ever. Slowly, Mama turned away and walked toward the
hall. She paused in the doorway and looked back.

BOOK: Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross
8.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Bormann Testament by Jack-Higgins
Woman by Richard Matheson
Season to Taste by Natalie Young
Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson
The Lost King by Margaret Weis
Utterly Devoted by Regina Scott