Collecting What's Due

        Little blond girls wearing equally little yellow dresses is one thing everyone can agree will melt their heart. Little blond girls wearing equally little yellow dresses while sitting beside their mother in a hospital room, devastating. When this is already the third time you have visited this small blond girl in the past six months, its the worst.

 

~

 

The first time they met it was late into the night, far past the bedtime of a 4 year old girl with ribbons in her hair. He had crept into the room silently, with no need really though. They couldn't see him. No one saw him unless they wanted to, and who would want to see something like him. But he was still completely silent out of respect. A small family was all jammed into the hospital room, staying with the old man lying in bed for his last breaths. That afternoon the nurses had taken his machines off to allow him to die peacefully.

 

Morton Sterling, 64 years old. He had been one of the charges since the day of his conception and now it was time to see him out. The figure reached out a hand once he was beside Morton, ready to get this done.

 

“Are you a nurse sir?” His back straightened as he looked to the small child, who was sat on the other side of her grandfather. He looked into her brown eyes, confused. This was the first time anyone had seen him to the point of interaction in ears, and his vocal cords were rusty.

 

“No Millicent. I’m helping your grandpapa.” He knew all of his charges names, every last one. Ever since his inception into this earth he had made his charges a priority, he knew where every one of them lived and everything about them. Lives were in his hands.

She nodded in almost understanding as she stroked the back of her grandfather’s hand. “So you are an angel then? Like the one we put on top of our tree at christmas?” That almost caused him to laugh but he didn’t, fearing it would scare the child. He was one of his charges and therefore was to be treated with care. “Grandpapa doesn't believe in angels you know, don't surprise him too much with it.” Her voice was soft and sweet like the tune of a music box, one of her little hands clutching at her equally little blue dress.

“I’ll try not to Millicent, don't you worry. Your grandpapa is going somewhere where he can be happy.” The little girl looked into his eyes deeply and frowned.

 

“Mr, my grandpapa is going to be dead. Thats not somewhere you can be happy. Papa explained to me all about what happens when organisms die and they go back into the world.” He was taken aback by her frank language and lack of emotion by the small girl. Typically when children were around and he tried to do his job a lot of crying and screaming was involved. But the little girl seemed to be taking it all in stride. He just nodded, eyes going back to the old man.

 

His hand slowly reached towards the old man’s chest, it seeming to phase through the body of his charge. When his hand was extracted it held a light blue ball of light, dull with age like it was being powered by an almost dead battery. Its shape was constantly changing, like smoke in the breeze and a faint humming noise could be heard. “Go back to sleep Millicent.” He said, placing the spherical light into a leather satchel he carried. His charge just stared at him with wide eyes as he left the room, the weight of his job heavy on his shoulders.

 

~

 

The next time they met was two months after the first, the little blond girl being pushed from his mind. It had been a busy two months, a tornado had hit a town he cared for. In his business it wasn't good to have a lot to do. He was laying in a field when he felt one of his charges call for him. Their soul seeking guidance in their last moments. His charge may not have known it but their soul sure did.

 

It was once again in that small town in Kansas and he thought for a moment about Millicent. Making plans to check on her once the job was done. He blinked, now no longer in a field but standing in the middle of a town square, cars drove all around him and he saw that he was in the middle of an intersection. It only took a few moments before he felt it happen,the screeching of tires could be heard to his left and he closed his eyes. The violent ones were always the worst.

 

When he re-opened his eyes he saw the result, two chunks of metal intertwined. It had been a head on collision. Blood already dripped from one of the cars and he walked towards that one, strong purposeful steps. No one could die without his help and he prefered his charges to not feel too much pain before passing on. His hand reached out and plunged into the woman’s chest, fishing out her soul. It shone brightly, red and vibrant. Vivian Bunch, 30, mother of three.

 

“Mr what are you doing!” It was a small child’s voice. His eyes snapped to the back of the car where Millicent sat beside an equally little girl whose head was lulled to the side, unconscious. Her blond hair had a streak of red where her head had been cut by glass and bruise was forming on her cheek where it had hit the seat. Her little red dress matched the equally little and red drop of blood as it streaked down her face.“Thats Megan’s mommy she can't die!” Her voice was desperate now but all he could do was turn and put the soul in his bag, disgusted with himself. “Mommies don't die like that Mr! Mommies can't leave their little girls! Mommies...” Her voice was cut off by her sob and then the yells of people around the car as they began to call 911 and tried to get the little girls out.

 

That night he couldn't live with himself. He couldn't live with himself anymore than usual anyways.

 

~

 

Now here they were, their third time meeting in a hospital once again. It was day time, the sun baking down through the window of the room and making the air feel stale. She barely glanced up when he entered the room this time, head resting against her mother’s lap limply. The little girl’s equally little tears salting her mother’s blanket.

 

He stood in the doorway for a moment. Millicent making him feel guilty for being there. “Come on in Mr. I know mommies going to die.” Her voice was broken, like the perfect little music box had been thrown to the ground. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “What's your name Mr?”

 

He waked into the room farther and put his hands in his pockets. “Reece.” Millicent nodded and began to stroke her mother’s bare scalp.

 

“Reece, daddy said that once mommies gone he wants to move away because he met mommy here.” She gave a shuddering breath before continuing. “Will you be my friend once we move Reece? Megan wasn't the same after you took her mommy, no one really wanted to talk to her. And since now my mommy is going to be gone...” Millicent couldn't even finish her sentence before she had to bury her face into the starchy bedsheets.

 

He pulled a yellow ball from Lucy Stirling’s chest at 1:42 PM. It was tinged with purple around the edges and pulsated furiously as Reese put it into his bag and walked away. The sound of a flatlining machine ringing in his ears would haunt him.

But not as much as the shuddered breath of a little girl with yellow hair as she cried into her equally yellow dress.