Grave Intentions

by Sjoberg, Lori

“When did you realize you had the gift?” Each answer triggered a new question in Sarah’s mind, stoking the fires of her curiosity until it consumed her every thought.

  “Oh, I knew back when I was a little girl. I was probably the only child in town whose imaginary friends were actually spirits.” A wistful smile warmed Pearl’s features. “The sight didn’t come until after I gave birth to your momma. The first vision I had was my daddy in a coffin. He died in a car accident three weeks later.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”

  “Nonsense. You need to hear this, now that you’re finally ready. There’s no telling how much time I have left.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Grandma.”

  “Talk like what?” Pearl smiled at her granddaughter. “Facts are facts. I’m an old woman. It’s not like I’m going to live forever, you know.”

  “I know.” Sarah shifted in her chair, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. She knew she was acting childish, but she wasn’t ready to contemplate a world without Pearl. “But let’s not talk about it just yet, okay?”

  “Fair enough,” Pearl said. “What else would you like to talk about?”

  Sarah was about to ask about her mother’s abilities when Pearl’s expression suddenly shifted, from patience and compassion to shock and annoyance.

  “Gordon!” Pearl shouted as she glared at the far end of the room. “Can’t you see I’ve got company? Where are your manners?”

  Sarah twisted in her chair, her jaw dropping at the sight of a hazy figure hovering a few feet from the door. The form was faint, barely visible to the naked eye, yet distinct enough to recognize as human.

  “That’s Gordon?”

  “Sure is. Dolores can’t be too far behind. Ever since she crossed over they’ve been joined at the hip.”

  The mention of Dolores sent Gordon into a tizzy. He swept across the room, whirling around Pearl like a hyperactive terrier. Irritated, Pearl swatted at him, shooing him away like a bothersome insect.

  “What are you talking about?” Pearl asked Gordon. “Slow down, you’re going too fast. I can’t make out a word you’re saying.”

  “He’s talking to you?”

  “Yes. Can’t you hear him?”

  “I hear a light buzzing sound, but nothing distinguishable.”

  Pearl’s focus shifted away from Gordon, pinning Sarah with a look of exasperation. “That’s because you’re still not tapping your full potential. Close your eyes and clear your head, and then let’s see what happens.”

  Sarah took a cleansing breath, blew it out, and then followed Pearl’s instructions. She didn’t hear anything at first, just the same background noise that reminded her of radio static. But then the sounds began to gradually coalesce, becoming clearer, sharper, the words crystallizing in her mind.

  You gotta help me, Pearl! He took Dolores and now he’s coming for me!

  “Who’s coming for him?” Sarah asked, opening her eyes so she could see Gordon. He was close to Grandma, pleading with her for protection against some unknown enemy.

  “Beats me, he keeps repeating the same thing over and over again,” Pearl replied with a shrug. “Calm down, Gordon, and answer my granddaughter. Who on earth is coming after you?”

  “He took her! He took her! I tried to stop him, but he just sucked her right up, and now he’s coming for me!”

  “Gordon!” Pearl’s voice crackled with authority. It was enough to temporarily snap Gordon out of his panic attack. He drifted to the foot of the bed, silent and sullen. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Now calm yourself down and start from the beginning.”

  Gordon never had the chance.

  Just then, the door swung open and David stepped inside. When he saw Sarah, he froze in his tracks, the most peculiar expression on his face.

  “David, what are you doing here?” Oh God, had he come for Pearl? Sarah’s gaze darted from David to Pearl to Gordon and back to David again. He didn’t seem to be paying Pearl any mind, focusing his attention on Gordon instead. Then she remembered Gordon’s pleas for help, and David’s sudden appearance made sense. “Oh.”

  “Thanatos!” Pearl’s voice came out in a low hiss. She made the sign of the cross as she pushed back against the pillows.

  “Don’t be afraid, Grandma. This is my neighbor, the man I told you about.” Sarah gestured to David in an attempt to calm her grandmother. “David, this is my grandmother, Pearl Griffith.”

  David nodded, looking uncomfortable with the current situation. Not that she blamed him; this was uncharted territory for her, too. It wasn’t every day a woman introduced her grandmother to the Grim Reaper. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Griffith. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  His gaze cut back to Gordon, intent on capturing his prey. Gordon let out a shriek, his form twisting, contorting, desperate to escape David’s invisible grasp.

  “Let him go!” Pearl grabbed the remote control for the television and threw it at David. The remote bounced off his shoulder but did nothing to break his hold on Gordon.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Griffith, but I can’t do that. I have to put him back on the right path.”

  “Grandma, stop it!” Sarah said as Pearl cocked her arm back, this time ready to throw the latest Danielle Steel novel. “He’s only trying to help them.”

  Pearl’s arm stopped mid-air, eyes narrowed as she regarded David with open distrust. “You’re not going to hurt him?”

  “No, of course not.” David looked offended. “I’m not here to harm them. My job is to make sure they cross over properly.”

  Pearl lowered her arm but kept a firm grip on the book. Obviously not sold on the notion, she turned to Sarah. “You sure he ain’t lying to me?”

  Sarah caught David’s gaze, momentarily lost in the depths of those penetrating gray eyes. “He’s telling you the truth, Grandma. He’s here to help.”

  “Well then,” Pearl said, her attention swinging back to Gordon. She hitched her chin up, the way she always did when she was ready to pass judgment. “It looks to me like you should do whatever Thanatos here tells you.”

  “But we don’t want to go. We like it here,” Gordon pleaded, sounding more like an insolent child than an eighty-seven-year-old man.

  “I know, Gordon. But it’s your time.” Pearl’s voice softened with compassion. “Go with him. He’ll make sure you and Dolores make it to the other side in one piece.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. My granddaughter wouldn’t steer you wrong. Now get going. Dolores is probably getting tired of waiting on you to make up your mind.”

  Sarah watched, fascinated, as Gordon inched closer to David. The two came together and to her amazement, Gordon’s spirit appeared to dissolve into David.

  David’s lips parted on a sharp inhale. His eyes drifted shut and when they opened a few seconds later, the gray was dulled by a murky fog. He closed them again and when they opened this time the piercing clarity had returned, focused squarely on Sarah.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  David nodded, looking a little off balance. “They’re happy to be back together,” he told Pearl. “They love each other very much.”

  “Of course they do. That’s why he waited around for her in the first place. They’ve been married for sixty-four years; they’re two halves of the same whole.” Pearl put on her glasses so she could see David better. “So what happens to them now?”

  “Now they’ll cross over.”

  “How?”

  “His body acts as a portal,” Sarah answered for him. “Once they’re safely secured, the portal will open and guide them to their destination.” She looked to David. “Right?”

  “Correct.” He gave her a smile that both filled her with pride and had her remembering just how good that mouth had felt against hers, making her feel more alive than she’d ever had in her entire life.

  “Well, I should be going,” David sa
id, making a point of checking his watch. “I have an appointment in an hour and a half and I still need to round up my trainee before he gets himself into any trouble—”

  “I remember you now,” Pearl said, cutting off his attempt at a fast escape. “You’re the one in my visions.”

  “You had a vision about me?” The look on David’s face was similar to the ones Sarah used to give Pearl on a daily basis. Funny, how an agent of Death could act skeptical toward a woman with clairvoyance.

  “I didn’t recognize you at first. It’s the eyes that gave you away. You were with my granddaughter.” A smile made the lines around Pearl’s eyes fan out and deepen. “The two of you looked very happy together.”

  “Well, that’s good, I suppose,” David said as he inched a little closer to the door.

  “The vision could be from an event that’s already happened,” Sarah said, trying to put David’s mind at ease in spite of the fact that she kind of liked the idea of them being happy together. “It could mean anything.” An evening watching football. A kiss in a parking garage. Mind-altering sex.

  “No,” Pearl said with a shake of her head. “It hasn’t happened yet. But soon.” Her expression sobered, looking almost as solemn as the day she’d told a much younger Sarah that her mother was never coming home. “I see great love and great pain. I can’t tell you any more, ’cause you’d only try to change things. But don’t worry. You’ll make the right choice, and it’ll all work out in the end.”

  chapter 14

  The following week settled into a familiar pattern.

  Each day after work, Sarah spent a few hours with Pearl, soaking up her grandmother’s wisdom like a thirsty sponge. Once visiting hours were over, she drove home and peppered David with questions about his job, his life, and his thoughts on everything from the nature of good and evil to which team had the best chance of making it to the Super Bowl.

  She was a bright fire of inquisitive energy, powered by a relentless drive to master this newly realized facet of her life. He could watch her for hours, fascinated by her tenacity.

  It wasn’t often he interacted with mortals. A solitary man by nature, it surprised David to find himself spending so much time with Sarah. He’d come to look forward to that special time of the day when the sun began to set and she’d come knocking on his door. She’d become a soothing balm on his fractured soul, evening out the rough edges while breathing new life on the dying embers of his humanity.

  He didn’t need to check the time to know she was late. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, bathing the sky in a vibrant orange glow. He peered through the blinds again, searching for signs of her little red Mazda but finding none.

  Damn. Maybe she got stuck working late, he thought with a growing sense of disappointment. Or maybe she had a date. She was an attractive young woman, one with wants and needs and itches that required the occasional scratch.

  His mood darkened.

  No, she would have told him if she was seeing someone. The knowledge lightened his spirits but left him off balance. Why should he care if she had a date? It wasn’t any of his damn business, a fact he’d made perfectly clear to both Sarah and himself. He wasn’t mortal, wasn’t part of her world, could offer her nothing more than a few transient moments with no prospects for the future.

  Restless, he turned on the TV, switching channels for a few minutes until he got bored and turned it off. With the kid out working an assignment with Dmitri, he was home alone with his thoughts and the dog. Buford trotted over, nudging David with his massive square head until he relented and gave the mutt a thorough scratching behind the ears. Satisfied, the dog curled up on the carpet beside the couch, using one of Adam’s ratty tennis shoes like a pillow.

  David looked out the window again, scowling when he saw no trace of Sarah. He considered walking the dog to pass the time, but by then Buford had fallen fast asleep, his legs twitching with dreams of the hunt.

  Desperate for distraction, he sat down on the chair by his desk and grabbed his sketchpad and a pencil. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, the tension gradually easing from his muscles as an image formed in his mind. Ah yes, he could see her now, all gentle curves and soft features, the kind that made a strong man weak in the knees.

  With great care he put pencil to paper, making quick work of the rough outline. He paused long enough to switch pencils, opting for a thinner lead to complete the finer details of eyes and mouth, to add brows and lashes and the two tiny moles along the edge of her jaw.

  So fixated on his latest creation, he nearly jumped out of his chair when someone knocked on the door. The noise roused Buford from his slumber; the big lug lifted his head, gave the door a cursory glance, and then promptly went back to sleep.

  “What?” David barked, annoyed because he’d torn a small hole in the paper. Shit, now it was ruined.

  “It’s me,” Sarah said through the closed door, and the tightness in his chest loosened.

  He stuffed the drawing beneath the small stack of pictures on his desk and crossed the room in five long strides.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said when he opened the door.

  She was still dressed for work, wearing black dress pants and a pale yellow blouse that brought out the color of her eyes. In her hands was a large pizza box from Antonio’s. She wiped her feet on the mat before stepping into the foyer.

  “I had to finish up with some blood cultures.” She paused, eyeing him with open speculation. “What I wouldn’t give for a sample of your blood. If I could isolate the healing properties in your white cells and platelets—”

  “Forget it.” They’d already been around this block a couple of times, and each time he’d turned her down cold. It was bad enough he’d told her about his world. No way was he becoming her latest science project.

  “You sure?” She gave him a pouty look and he almost gave in.

  “Positive.”

  “Oh well, can’t blame a girl for trying, right?” She grinned, and for a moment he couldn’t think of anything but how sweet she’d tasted the night he’d kissed her down by the pool.

  “You must be starving,” David said, swapping one hunger for another. He took the pizza box from her hands and set it on the kitchen counter. “We should eat before this gets cold.”

  “Works for me.” Sarah followed him into the kitchen, leaning a hip against the counter. “Where’s Adam?”

  “Out working a job with Dmitri. He won’t be back until late.” That meant he had her all to himself, a fact that made him happier than he was willing to openly admit.

  Besides, it was good for the kid to see how other reapers operated, to study varying techniques before shaping a style of his own. Knowing Dmitri, he’d drag the kid to the Foxhole afterward and get him good and hammered. Which was fine, as long as Adam sobered up in time for his morning appointment with Martin.

  “Oh.” She didn’t say anything else, but David could almost hear the gears of her mind shifting.

  He opened the box and the rich aroma of pepperoni and sausage filled the air, making his stomach growl. It smelled so good it woke Buford from a sound sleep. The dog sauntered over, licking his chops.

  “Don’t even think about it,” David warned, and Buford stopped in his tracks. The dog peered up at him with those big, pitiful eyes and David relented, tossing the mutt a piece of pepperoni. “You had your treat, now beat it.” Buford trotted back to the couch and settled into his favorite spot, waiting for the chance to mooch again.

  David loaded two plates with slices and handed one to Sarah. “Why don’t you go ahead and ask?”

  Sarah blinked, and then met his gaze. “Ask what?”

  “You tell me. If you were thinking any harder, smoke would start coming out of your ears.”

  She blushed, and he smiled.

  He opened the refrigerator, looking for something to drink. Damn, the kid drank the last beer again. “All I’ve got in here is milk,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder.


  “You drink milk?”

  “Yes,” he replied, defensive. “What’s wrong with milk?”

  “Nothing,” she said with a shrug. “It just struck me as weird, the Grim Reaper drinking milk. I mean, it’s not like you have to worry about a calcium deficiency, right?”

  “I happen to like milk.” David took the carton from the fridge, giving it the sniff test to make sure it was fit for human consumption. “And just what am I supposed to drink?”

  “I don’t know.” She gave him an awkward smile that heated his blood. “I guess milk works.”

  He poured two glasses and tossed the empty carton in with the recycling. Add grocery shopping to the list of things to do tomorrow.

  “So I’ve been thinking about destiny,” Sarah began as she moved out of the kitchen and into the living room. She settled down on the couch, the plate perched on her knees. The dog watched her from his spot on the floor, waiting to pounce if something dropped from her plate.

  “What about it?”

  “Well, a lot has to happen in order to bring a person to a specific place and time. That doesn’t leave much margin for error.” She sipped her milk and set the glass on the coffee table. “Let’s say Jane Smith is supposed to get broadsided by a pickup truck while taking a left onto University Boulevard tomorrow afternoon at four-thirty. In order for that to happen, she has to turn left at the exact moment the truck blows the red light. But what if something prevents her from being there? What if she’s running low on gas and decides to stop at the 7-Eleven? Or maybe she comes down with the flu and stays home that day?”

  David took the chair beside the couch. He set his glass between his legs and the plate on the arm of the chair. “In that case, I suppose Jane wouldn’t end up as roadkill. But I doubt Fate would allow her to escape her destiny so easily. Maybe she’d die in an accident a few miles up the road, or from carbon monoxide poisoning at home. Who knows, maybe she’d choke on a chicken bone.”

  Sarah chewed on a mouthful of pizza while she contemplated his answer. Then she swallowed and asked, “Have you ever had an appointment not show up?”