Page 115 of Tiger's Trek
The room was silent for a moment as Nik studied the other man. His heart began beating fast, and his breathing kicked up like he’d been running.
“You... you’re a demon?” Nik speculated.
“Not quite.”
“A ghost?”
“Guess again.” The man studied his fingernails. “Youcanfeel it, can’t you? The inevitability of me? The one you can’t evade, no matter what you do.”
Nik stared at him, and he knew. He simply knew. This man had been in Nik’s presence before. Many times, in fact. Sometimes Nik had even prayed for him to come, knew he’d been there, lurking in the shadows. And yet he hadn’t taken him; he’d left him alive to suffer another day, another week, another month. He’d been there when the knife had slipped between his mother’s ribs and her lifeblood had spilled out on the floor of their little home. He’d been there on the hillside as he’d watched their cabin burn to the ground, retrieving the tiny souls of his siblings. Yes. There was no denying—he’d been in the presence of this being before.
“You’re Death,” Nik said, swallowing.
Grinning, Death said, “Give the man a prize!” He laughed, then shrugged and added, “Just kidding. There’s no prize. No trump card that lets you escape my clutches.”
“You’re a prize to me!” Zima said.
“Thank you, love,” Death said. “That’s why you’ll always be my favorite.”
“And why you’ll come for me twice.”
The little girl grinned, showing a dimple when the dark man smiled at her and touched his finger to her pert nose.
Nik felt sick. No. He felt worse than sick. He was going to vomit. Closing his eyes, he practiced his breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Then he tried to wet his lips, but his mouth was so, so dry. Nik lifted his glass and got only a few drops. Opening his eyes, he saw Death staring at him. No. Into him. “What... what do you want from me?” he asked.
“It’s not whatIwant fromyou. I’m here at your behest. What is it you want from me? Zima thinks you need to talk.”
Wringing his hands, which had gone cold and numb, Nik shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “What do people usually talk about when visiting with you?” he asked.
“Hmm. Most want to know if it’s their time. But I sense you know the answer to that question already. They usually want to know the when. The how. The who.”
“And what about the why not?”
“Ah.” The man spun a chair around backward and took a seat, folding his arms on the chairback. “I wondered if you’d be brave enough to ask me that one directly.”
“Most aren’t?”
“No. I frighten most. Not because of anything I’ve done. Death is as natural as birth, breathing, eating, going for a walk, or planting a tree. It’s part of what makes you human. Want to know my theory?”
“Sure.”
“I think humankind just doesn’t like endings. But without endings, how can you have beginnings? Or middles, for that matter? Personally, I like a good ending. If a story just went on and on without an ending, eventually you’d get bored and quit reading. There’s something satisfying in wrapping up a tale. Every river ends somewhere. Each sunrise becomes a sunset. That’s just life. The trick is being willing to step into the unknown. Finding out what comes next. But you... you weren’t afraid of what was next; you were more afraid to live in the now. That made death seem pretty good, didn’t it, son?”
Nik lowered his head. “If you know all that, then why?”
“Why didn’t I take you, then? Well, the answer to that question is simple but complicated. It wasn’t your time. In other words, you still have things to do.”
“What things?”
“Ah, that’s the complicated part and the piece I can’t answer for you. The answer is different for each person. What I can tell you is that just like you knew me, you’ll know the answer to that question in your heart if you want to know badly enough. Now, as to the other, more standard questions, the hows, whens, and wheres of your actual demise, I can be pressed upon to share that information. I should warn you, though, that knowing is a burden.”
“Yeah. I can see that.”
Again, Nik shifted, crossing and uncrossing his legs, trying to find some way to relieve the pain.Blast that Pasha!he thought.
The three were silent for a long time. All waited on Nik. With Veru or Stacia, Nik never had to speak first. Any time there was silence, they rushed to fill it, each sister talking over the other one. Nik had learned from the time he was young that there was great protection in being quiet. Not only could you glean information you would otherwise miss out on, but you avoided saying anything that would cause upset in others. Those who traveled with you always assumed you agreed with their opinions.
His mother rarely spoke, especially in the presence of their father, but when she did, she usually said something so profound it stuck with him. One thing she’d said was, “A fool’s tongue runs before his feet.” She’d always encouraged him to gain experience in a thing before he went on trying to speak about it. Another one, his favorite, was, “A silent man is never conquered.”
