with a more favorable outcome? Being dead would take away some of the confusion but dead while doing something would both take away the pain and give him something to do. Ankou and the Reaper ignored him and continued their argument.
“He’s just a kid. He’s not going to be very useful.”
“That’s for me to decide. I happen to think he’s going to do very well. You should have seen him before I took him. He was fighting like nothing I had ever seen. He wasn’t blubbering like everyone else. That showed me something.”
Ankou walked to the refrigerator, opened it, and put his head inside. His voice echoed from within its confines. “Showed you something? Brother, I do believe you’re touched in the skullcap. I think you’re seeing things that aren’t there.”
“I believed in him enough to leave his entire soul intact. I didn’t take anything from him. He’s just as he was when he alive. Now do you think I’d bring his type here if I didn’t think he was special?”
His type? What did The Reaper mean by that? The boy’s mind was still reeling with the thoughts of helping him hunt souls. Now The Reaper was piling on insults? The man was as perplexing as an ancient Chinese riddle. He was about to protest when Ankou chimed in. He quickly emerged from the refrigerator with a jar of Soul in is hand. His eyes were wide and he spoke in astonished tone.
“What? You mean he’s…really human? I was just saying that earlier.”
“Well maybe not entirely human but pretty close to it. Do you have a problem?”
Ankou said nothing. The Reaper walked up and stared his brother in the eyes. “You know, I’m so sure he’s going to work out, I’m willing to wager my reputation on it. If I’m wrong, I’ll go out soul collecting wearing a clown wig, red nose, and floppy shoes. I’ll become the laughing stock of the Soul Collecting world. If I’m right, you can clean the mausoleum for a year, Mr. Maid.”
“You mean you’re willing to have people think of Death as silly clown,” asked the boy standing up. He was even more confused than ever; he needed to know what the face of Death meant.
The Reaper nodded. “That’s right. Besides, clowns are scary.”
“That’s a steep price to pay. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean this helping you just came out of the blue.”
“Indeed it is, brother,” Ankou chimed in smugly.
“You asked me what you were going to do around here. Well, there’s your answer. I honestly didn’t think of it until Ankou here became so demanding. He’s a cranky old man and I said it to calm him down. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I want to leave a legacy. I’ve picked you.”
The boy said nothing. The Reaper quickly turned around and peered out of the window. Silence prevailed for many long painful seconds. At last, Ankou opened the jar, took a long swig, and wiped his mouth with a frilly sleeve. The Reaper had never been as quiet and serious. The man meant what he said. Ankou’s demeanor suddenly changed and his face softened when he glanced at the boy.
“If it means that much to you, brother, I’ll give him a chance.”
The Reaper spun around. He laughed light heartedly and hugged Ankou. “Thanks. Just wait and see. He’ll be fine.”
The boy approached The Reaper and looked up into his eyes. “It’s not right for me to collect, is it? That’s your job.”
“Well, you won’t be collecting as much as helping. You’ll help me process them. It’s not as exciting as collecting but you’ll learn a lot.”
“It still seems wrong. It’s like I’m contributing to death.”
The Reaper sighed and stood alongside Ankou. “You won’t be. That’s my job. Death is a natural part of life, son. There can’t be one without the other. There needs to be a balance you see. You’re just helping me keep that balance. I know it’s not what you asked for. Maybe I was wrong to being you here. But now that you are here, you can help me keep order in the universe. That’s a pretty big chance isn’t it? You can do more now and here than you could dead. What do you say?”
The boy turned from them both and walked towards the door out of the kitchen. He stopped short. The same silence that had dominated the place earlier came back. The Reaper and Ankou looked at one another nervously. It was as if the souls on the refrigerator were going to come out and demand asylum. Finally, the boy spoke. He whipped around, a huge smile on his face.
“So does that mean you’re my Uncle Ankou now?”
Both soul collectors started laughing.
“Hell, child,” said Ankou as he walked up and tousled the lad’s hair, “I guess it does.”
“My name’s not child, though.”
“He’s right, brother. What are we going to call him? Have you any preference?”
The Reaper walked around the boy, eying him up and down “Well, you’re pretty thin. You’re pale. You remind me of someone…a friend…a co-worker when he was much younger…”
Ankou snapped his fingers. “Of course! Famine!”
“That’s it! Yes! You remind me of a young Famine. He was quite the spitfire back then, much like you are now. What do you think?”
“Famine?” asked the boy.
The name had a nice ring to it. Since his original memories were gone, he had no idea what his previous name was. Even if he did, he was sure it would fit into his new way of life. No one would be scared of Bill the Omen of Death or Charlie the Soul Collector, but Famine was scary. It was unique.
“The Grim Reaper, Uncle Ankou, and Famine…I think that would look great on a greeting card,” he answered.
“I don’t know what the hell a greeting card is, but that sounds like a yes to me,” Ankou said.
“It is. My new name is Famine. Now, do I get a good room? I won’t settle for anything womany.”
The Reaper patted Famine on the back. “I’ll try to keep my pantyhose and dresses out of your room, son. Now let’s go see what we can do…”
The three of them began climbing the stairs to the second floor of the mausoleum.
“Does this mean I have to store my hats elsewhere,” asked Ankou jokingly.
“Only the big ones,” answered The Reaper.
“Hell,that means all of them!”
Famine laughed as his two new family members led him to his new room.
Prelude One: Death as a Boy Page 3
