(3) The Death Problem

“This is a right mess you’ve gotten us into Jed,” Alun said. “Pushing Death into the River Styx where he faces certain death, meaning that we have to cover his role. Well you’ll have to be Death.”

“Why can’t you be Death,” I said. “You’re a GP, you’re used to dealing with dead people.”

“Some of my patients have survived you know,” he said, though he didn’t name names. “It’s only fair if you do it, it was you who knocked Death into the Styx. Besides, the Robes of Death are far too big for me, they’d be scrapping along the floor. You’re much taller, they fit you perfectly. Nobody will know the difference”

Unfortunately Alun was right. The robes fitted me like Cinderella’s slippers, and, I hate to say it, I looked the part. Dressed in the Robes of Death I no longer looked gangly and awkward, rather menacing and powerful.

“I’ll be with you all the time to help you out,” Alun said, “just in case you’re about to cock everything up and start killing the wrong people.”

I chose to ignore his attempt at sarcasm.

I picked up the Staff of Mortal Doom and we were ready. Without having to say so much as a single word we materialised at the bedside of our first client. Astonishingly enough if was somebody I recognised, Mrs Tulperry from Tulperry Island (no relation), one of Alun’s patients, who had been close to death’s door for some time.

“Is that the grim reaper, death, my doom and destiny?” she asked.

I covered my face with the hood of my robes and tried to disguise my normal voice, in case she recognised me.

“IT IS,” I said.

“I am ready,” she said.

A pale blue line shone through her body. Her life-line. I felt the Staff of Mortal Doom twitch in my hand, ready to slice through it.

“Wait,” she said, “who is that with you? I didn’t know Death had an assistant.”

“It is me Mrs Tulpery,” Alun said, “Dr Davies. “I’m here to help Death out, he likes to have a doctor with him to confirm that you’re dead.”

“Very sensible dear.”

Alun took her pulse and listened for breath with his stethoscope. Shaking his head sadly he confirmed that she was no more.

“See, I told you those tablets were useless.”

“I’m sorry Mrs T,” he said, “I won’t prescribe them any more.”

“Fat lot of good that will do me. Oh well, I’ve had a good innings I suppose. I’d better be off so you can get back to that Jed chap, you shouldn’t leave him alone for too long you know. And can you tell the boatman I won’t be needing my usual groceries this week. Or ever again for that matter.”

“I’m the boatman too this week Mrs T. I’m covering for him while he’s on holiday.”

“Gosh you are keeping busy; Death’s assistant, temporary boatman, don’t work too hard dear, you’ll only end up like me.”

“Goodbye Mrs T.”

“GOODBYE MRS T.” I raised the staff and brought it down through the corpse of my neighbour. It cut straight through her body and the cord of blue light disappeared. Mrs Tulpery was no more.

xxx

No sooner had we finished with Mrs T than we found ourselves in what was clearly the maternity ward of a hospital, because there in front of us was a manic gathering of doctors, nurses and assorted medical wanabees, all surrounding a woman clearly in the throes of childbirth, and making rather a bloody mess of it.

“They can’t see us can they?” I said.

“No Jed, we are only visible to the dead. I recognise this hospital Jed, it’s where I had my training.”

“Does that mean we’re on the mainland?”

“It does Jed, we’re in the capital city. Oh, the tales I could tell you of what I got up to as a junior doctor. The drinking games, the thinking games, the not blinking games.”

“Another time Alun,” I said, “when I’m not working.” For we had come here to work, the chores of Death were our chores now.

The room was full of noise, a mother screaming, machines beeping, doctors talking rapidly and (to me) incoherently. Amongst all the distractions I finally saw the reason for my visit. There on the bed, bloodied, still, chill and tiny, a new-born baby. Shining from within its fragile form a thin blue line, a life-line that had come to an end, no sooner than it had begun.

Alun went over and checked the baby for signs of life. “It’s no good,” he said, you are needed.

I paused for several seconds as I worked up the courage to do what I had to do.

“What a sick fate,” I said. “My first visit to the mainland, my very first seconds on mainland soil, and I’m here to take the soul from a new-born baby. It makes me wish I’d never left the island.”

“I know Jed. It’s hard. Whichever god is responsible for the absurd process of birth needs a bloody good thwack round the head with your staff if you ask my opinon.”

“I can’t do it, not take a baby’s life.” I held the Staff to Alun. “You do it, you’re a medical man, you’re trained in this sort of thing.”

“I’m afraid I can’t Jed. You have donned Death’s robes, this is your fate now, curse it all you like.”

A curse it certainly was. With tears streaming down my face I lifted the staff. I could barely see, but I didn’t need to, the staff felt its way, I barely needed to be there to guide it. With a swish it was all over, the light extinguished. Another baby dead.

xxx

We found ourselves in a desert, the midday sun beating down on us. On the floor beside us, dead, with blue life-line showing, was a man in a gorilla suit.

“What on Earth?” I said.

“It’s the gorilla run, Jed,” Alun said, “people run 26 mile marathons across the desert dressed in gorilla costumes.”

I looked at Alun, at the body in front of me, too real for this to be a joke. “Why? Why would anyone do anything so extraordinarily stupid? I mean, the guy’s in his 30s. If he hadn’t tried running across the desert he’d have lived another 40 years, had a family, written that novel he always intended.”

“People are all different Jed.”

“I can hear you, you know,” said the dead man from somewhere within the gorilla suit.

“Sorry,” I said, “I forget. I’ve not been doing this job long.”

“It’s the challenge, the thrill, the adrenalin, if you must know. Better to die living life to the full in your 30s than die aged 93 having never done anything.”

“I SUPPOSE SO,” I said, remembering to do the voice thing.

“It’s a bugger though. Look, just a few metres from the finish line. I don’t s’pose you could come back.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” said Alun, “you’re dead. You’ve had a heart attack, hardly surprising. Your time is over, there is no leeway I’m afraid.”

“WELL,” I said, feeling a bit guilty about what I’d said in front of my ‘client’, “HE IS DEAD, BUT THERE’S NOBODY AROUND.”

It was true. The other contestants were nowhere in sight and other than a line of tape, there were no officials present.”

“What are you saying Jed?”

“WE COULD CARRY HIM OVER THE LINE. NOBODY WOULD KNOW. IT’S NOT FAR.”

Alun looked at me as if I were mad, but after pleading by the gorilla man he eventually consented. I hadn’t realised how hot and heavy it was to carry a corpse in a gorilla costume 10 metres in the midday heat of a desert, no wonder he died running 26 miles, but eventually we got him over the line, where we let his body collapse.

Officials, who had been sheltering in a nearby tent, suddenly spotted the gorilla, and ran over to help. But it was too late. I had already raised the Staff of Mortal Doom and let it do its work.

xxx

We found ourselves back at the River Styx. This time we were in the water, protected by the dimension within which Death works his work. Or, I should say worked his work. For Death was no more.

“Death is dead Jed,” Alun said. “There is nothing we can do. We are here to collect his skeletal soul.”

As Alun spoke a thin blue life-line appeared in Death’s body.

“He can’t die. Who will gather the souls of the dead without Death?”

“I’m afraid that’s your job now Jed,” he said. “You are doomed to fulfil the role your blunder forced upon you. You are the new Death.”

“No, I’ve an idea. There is another way.”

Having fulfilled the role of Death, even though for just a short time, I had mastered control of the sixth Dimension. I left and quickly returned with two life-timers. That of Death, a large, gothic-styled timer empty of sand, and another still gushing with the sands of time.

“It is very simple,” I said. “Death was only ever barely alive, there has only ever been one grain of the sand of live in his timer. He is eternally close to death, for He is Death. By taking one grain of the Sands of Life from another life-timer I can return Him to His usual state.

“It is wrong to play with the Sands of Time, Jed. We are not children building castles on the beach, this is a fragment of person’s life, you would be ripping nature apart. With whose life do you thus toy?”

“This is the Timer of Nick Clegg.” So saying I raised a grain of sand from the glass with a pair of tweezers and placed it in that of Death.”

“Nick Clegg?” Alun paused. “Are you sure one grain is enough. Empty it all in just in case.”

“No. All mortal life is precious, even that of Nick Clegg.”

The grain of sand transferred and, having mastered the Staff or Mortal Doom, I used it not to part the life-line but to beat it back into Death’s body. With a shocked jolt Death’s body returned to life.

“What now Jed? He’ll only drown again. We’ll never manage to drag him back to sure alone.”

There was a splash in the water beside us.

“Can I help?” It was Croccy. I’ve never been so happy to see a god in all my life.

In no time at all Croccy had dragged Death to the shore and He was ready to continue His duties.

Saying our farewells we returned to the boat, and begun the duties we had initially agreed to, ferrying the souls of the dead.

This time I was prepared and didn’t panic when we felt a chill as a bodyless soul joined us in the boat.

To our surprise the soul spoke to us.

“Not you again! Have you got every job in the universe? GP, Death’s assistant, acting boatman and The Ferryman.”

“Just doing my bit to help out, Mrs T. Relax and enjoy the ride, we’ll have you at the Shores of the Dead just in time for tea.”

“Well don’t expect a tip, it’s your useless tablets that got me here.”