Karma (Karma Series) (8 page)

It took a while to sleep after the
beehive experience, but when I did, it was surprisingly deep. No more flashes of any type. When I woke up, I was still in shock. I was officially a murderer.

Fate was gone in the morning
, so at least we didn't have to car pool. I drove to the office in my little Honda with the images of the bee stung body lying there and his screams fresh in my mind.

I parked my car outside work and went in, trying to pretend it was just another day. The usual crew
were all there; Luck and Murphy looked to be gossiping off in the corner, Kitty was sharing her coffee over at her desk and I still hadn't met or seen any of the Jinxes.

I walked over and grabbed a discarded newspaper and settled at the table near the windows. It was partially obscured by the alcove it sat in. I liked it better over here. I was still technically at work but now it was a mutual choice to be separated. They didn't want to socialize with me and I decided to return the favor.

Just as I sat down, three boys on skateboards shot through the office. They looked to be around ten or eleven. What were kids doing here?

They zoomed in between the desks, knocking over files as they went and I heard someone scream
“Jinxes!” and it all made sense.

All three sets of eyes scanned the room and froze o
n me. They kicked their skateboards into full gear in my direction. I was just about to jump out of my chair, when they skidded to a stop, inches from knocking me over.

All three were blond with blue eyes. They looked like angelic brothers but it was clear they were anything but.

“Hi,” the kid closest to me said. “I'm Bobby, that's Billy and Buddy.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of the two standing slightly behind him.

“
Nice to meet you.” I hoped.

“
So, you're the new Karma?” Either Billy or Buddy said, I wasn't sure which. The three of them were forming a half circle around me, their eyes roving up and down me in the most uncomfortable manner.

“
Yes. My names Camilla.”

“
So, Karma, you're single, right?” Billy/Buddy said.

“
Having died recently, I haven't had a chance to date, as of yet.”

“
Move out of the way, Bobby. She's not interested in you, are you, darling?” The one on the left said, shouldering his way to the front.

The other one stepped forward now as well.
“Don't let the bod throw you baby cakes. I'm an old soul and I'm all man in the sack.” His eyebrows rose while he smiled.

I was trying so hard to keep a neutral face it was impossible to speak without giving up the ruse.

“Hey, don't laugh at us,” Bobby said when I couldn't control myself anymore. “We might look young but we've got some mad skills.”

“
I'm sure you do.”

The three of them were foul, crude and all
-round distasteful. I kind of liked them. They reminded me of most of my clients. It felt a bit like home.

In unison, all three heads perked up as if they were listening to something I couldn't hear.

“Billy?”

“
Got it, Bobby.” Billy was now staring down at his watch.

“
What's going on?” I asked and got a finger signaling to give them a minute.

And then suddenly, Bobby dropped his arm and Billy and Buddy cursed.

“What happened?” I asked again.

“
Some chick was just talking about how her trip couldn't be postponed again. She knocked on wood before the minute was up,” Billy explained.

“
That knock on wood thing really works?”

“
Yeah. You get a minute to use it. Cuts off the signal to us,” Bobby said.

“
People use it less and less, lately.” Buddy's eyes had an evil glint as he smiled mischievously.

Across the room, Murphy went on an epic sneezing rant
, which I wouldn't have thought twice about except for the Jinxes’ reaction.

“
Cover your mouth, you degenerate!” Buddy screamed.

“
What do you think tissues are for, old man!” Billy chimed in.

Bobby looked at his two
cohorts and me, and then uttered, “Who
does
something like that? What an animal.”

The other two grunted and huffed, agreeing with him,
then turned their attention back to me again.

“
You know, no one talks to you ‘cause you're a transfer. Fate keeps telling everyone you'll either leave soon or die, so it's not worth getting chummy, but we don't care what the rest of these dweebs do. We're trendsetters, not followers.”

I heard
the office door shut and turned to see Fate walking in behind the caterer.

“
Yeah, gotta go.” And just like that, the Jinxes took off to the other side of the office.

After laying out the food, the
caterer made one last trip in, carrying a cake in the shape of a cat paw, which she put off to the side.

I got up and grabbed a tuna
sub and a can of Diet Coke. I made a quick glance at the cake that read “Happy 1,000 Anniversary Kitty” before returning to my seat.

A thousand years? Hell no! Literally, I'd tell them to send me to hell before I sat here for a thousand years.

I looked around the place, pretending to read the newspaper, as I sat and ate alone. The air conditioning kicked on, sending a draft my way, letting me know Crow must have taken off his shoes again. He liked to go barefoot about the office and the odor from his shoes alone could bring a grown man to his knees.

I couldn't eat
for the smell. I put my tuna sandwich down, scraping my arm on the edge of the broken table in the process.

One of Kitty's black cats jumped up on the table, looked at me, then the tuna.

“Knock yourself out.” I pushed the sub toward the cat, which meowed in reply and then dug in.

I
sat back and thought about how I would not be able to exist like this for the next 1,000 years. I missed my life, my friends, having family. If I'd had a bad day at work before, I could call someone and talk it out afterward, instead of having to drown myself in Battlestar Gallactica reruns alone.

I worked in a dump full of
weirdoes with no social graces, who treated me like
I
was the outcast. Thirty days of this was my max.

I tucked myself a little further back as I heard them laughing at some joke. Even Fate was laughing. I think it might have been him who made the joke. It was probably a hateful joke too, most likely at my expense.

I cringed. This place was turning me into one of those bitter people. The “secret haters” I used to call them. Didn't matter what happened in their lives, they were miserable. Now I felt like one of them.

Crow was lighting some candles on the cake as Kitty went over. The worst was I didn't know what to do as they gathered around the cake waiting for her to blow out the candles. I felt rude sitting here but they weren't looking to socialize.

The mutilated Happy Anniversary song over and the candles out, Murphy took a knife and started to cut the cake and dole it out to the group. I was looking down at my paper when I saw Murphy heading over with a piece of cake for me. It was such a simple gesture and yet it felt like the world to me.

I looked up and smiled at him as he covered the distance. And then there was Fate, stopping him with a hand on his arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Murphy
looked at me, and then Fate, before he spoke in a hushed tone. “I feel bad.”

Fate's head was shaking and I couldn't understand what he said next but it didn't matter. They could keep their cake.

Fate's back still toward me, I got up and walked over to them.

“
It's for her own good,” Fate said.

I should've kept walking but I didn't.

“What's for my own good?”

“
That you realize you don't belong.” He didn't flinch as he spoke but stared at me and I matched it with my own venomous gaze.

“
Whatever. Keep your cake.”

Murphy
opened his mouth but shut it quickly when Fate gave him a small shove.

It was noon, five hours before quitting time
, but I didn't care. I grabbed the keys to my Honda off the empty desk and headed out.

I tried to keep my gaze averted as I made my way to the door but it didn't help.

“Fate, I think you made her cry,” I heard Murphy say.

“
Let her go,” he replied.

I'd stopped on my way out of the lobby and searched the board. There had to be another option for getting out of this mess besides Harold. That's how I ended up here. The plaque on the door read
“Grief Counseling.” Who
else
could it be?

I grabbed the doorknob and then paused. If this was the reaper
– the real deal as in death in a dingy robe with a sickle – did I really want to meet him...or her...it?

Why not? He couldn't look too much worse than Crow did. I had nothing but time on my hands and all I did was sit around that office all day. I'd just say hello and introduce myself as someone new in the building. When you thought about it, I was really just being neighborly.

And while we were getting acquainted, if by some chance the subject came up about me looking for an early exit from this particular situation, what harm was done? If he could hurry me along out of my contract a little quicker, I certainly wouldn't snub my nose at the offer.

I turned the doorknob and pushed in to the reception area. No one was there, but at least it didn't look dark and scary the way I'd feared. I guess I was bein
g judgmental, assuming it would be all spiders and cobwebs. It looked similar to our own waiting area. Just like our place, there was a door on the far wall that led to the back.

“
Hello?”

I was just about to knock on the interior door when it opened.

The room was black, without a glimmer of light escaping.

“
Come in,” a deep male voice said from somewhere within all that darkness.

Sometimes judgment calls are more accurate than you hoped.

I came here uninvited. I couldn't go running now. I wanted out, after all. What if this was my way back into the system? I refused to be a sissy.

I took a step in and the lights shot on all of a sudden. A slender man who appeared to be in his sixties with
thinning white hair sat behind an antique wood desk. The walls were lined on either side with leather bound books.

Yep, I'm judgmental.

“Sorry about that. I had a headache and the lights were bothering my eyes.” The deep voice that had bid me entry now sounded quite high and nasally.

“
Did you take anything?” Did ibuprofen work on the reaper? This man couldn't possibly be death, sitting here all calm and nonthreatening in his three piece suit.

“
Yes, but over the counters never work well for me.”

Did D
eath just tell me Advil didn't help his head? This had to be an assistant.

“
Have a seat. I'd heard we had someone new in the building.”

Death seemed so friendly. Weird that he'd have the best manners of any of them so far.

“It's nice to meet you. I'm Cam...Karma.”

He held out his hand, and right before I grasped it, he introduced himself,
“I'm Death. So nice to meet you.”

I paused my hand in mid reach but then I faltered. I wanted to go back into the system and he could probably help me do that. But not before I handled matters here. If there was a chance at getting my murderer, I couldn't walk away.

“It's okay.” He smiled and looked down at my hand.

“
I'm sorry.” I grasped his and shook. Treating Death like he had the cooties didn't seem to be a smart idea.

My hand clasped his and a frigid cold shot up to my elbow, and might have spread further if he hadn't let go.

He looked down at my hand and his. “Wow. Sorry about that! You've still got some human on you. Wasn't expecting it.”

“
So, you could have, you know, killed me?”

“
No. I only deal in live humans. I just meant touching me might feel uncomfortable. It's a little like chewing on tin foil. Feels unpleasant but isn't really a problem.” He sat back down and motioned for me to make myself comfortable.

I sank into the seat, trying to hide the disappointment. It was nice thinking I had a back up plan just in case the
thirty-day trial period turned into thirty years.

“
I take it that's not what you were hoping for?”

“
To be honest, no. I was hoping that you might be the escape clause I was looking for.”

“
I'm sorry. I wish I could help. You do seem to have a brilliant soul. It would've been a pleasure to help you along. I do so like the bright ones.”

“
Thanks.”

“
So, how do you feel about being here for a little while longer?”

I relaxed back and sighed. There was something strangely comforting about the Reaper. I guess that was the dichotomy of death. Sometimes it was frightening but every now and then in the right moment in life, it was warm and welcoming.

“I made a bad choice and now I'll have to live with it.” How many times had I told my clients that same thing? More than half of them would then reply that they hadn't been thinking clearly. Drugs, emotional duress, the list went on and on. I'd righteously told them that they'd better start making the right choice or they'd end up in jail.

Now look at me. I was using the same tired excuse about not thinking clearly. I was as full of bullshit as they had been. I'd thought I could cheat death.
There are a lot of things in life you might be able to cheat and get away with. Death isn't on the list.

“
But how do you feel? It's a huge change for you.”

“
I don't know. A bit frustrated I guess...”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and nodded. Why am I telling the Reaper about my emotional state?

“Do you actually do counseling?” It was a crazy thought but he did sound like one.

“
Yes. I just got my online degree.”

“
You got an online degree in counseling?”

He smiled widely and nodded.
“Of course, I had to use my alias. It's not like I could matriculate as Death but I did all the work myself. Wow, some of that reading was quite lengthy too.”

“
In addition to...” what would be a politically correct way for describing sucking the life out of someone? “Reaper
activities
?”

He nodded.
“Ever since Fred moved in, he's been referring them to me.”

“
Fred?”

“
The human accountant downstairs. We golf together on Wednesdays.” He pointed to the corner near the door where a new club leaned against the wall. “Just bought it off EBay last week. Can't wait to try it out.”

“
There's a human here? Does he know about all of this?”

“
No. He doesn't. He didn't know what the building was and we had an open office. It was something of a paperwork slip up that no one's been able to figure out. He was such a nice guy that we all lobbied to let him stay.”

“
And Fred gets you clients?”

“
Well, he got me my first couple but I've taken to it like a fish to water so now those clients have been getting me referrals. Fred has been a wonderful human to have around.” He stood and took a framed photo off his bookshelf of three guys on the golf course. “That's Fred, Dennis and me. Dennis is the tooth fairy. He's even dabbling in dentistry now, because of Fred. Have you met him yet?”

“
The tooth fairy?”

“
Yes. He golfs with us a couple of times a month.”

There was a rap at the door, then a
young man poked his head in. “Hey, Doc. Your two o'clock is here.”

“
Thanks, Tim!”

I stood up and couldn't stop shaking my head. Where did the craziness of this place end?

“Thanks for talking to me.”

“
Any time! Door’s always open!”

***

After the party gone wrong and the idea that
he
might be waiting at my condo, I needed a drink badly. I pulled up to a bar I'd known my whole life but had never frequented. It was one of those local joints that didn't get much of the tourism crowd. Being a public defender, I was always worried about running into one of my clients here. It was the perfect place for how I was feeling.

I walked into the mostly empty dim room. The Joker by Steve Miller played on a jukebox in the corner. A couple of guys shot pool, the balls clanking and cigarettes burning in the ashtray.

I grabbed a stool as far away as I could get from the few other patrons. A middle-aged bartender who would have looked at home in an old western approached me.

“
What'll you have?” he asked, slapping down a peeling cardboard coaster.

“
Something strong.”

He nodded and returned with a bottle that appeared to have red wax dripping down its side. The label read Maker's Mark. He poured a shot and then placed a coke beside it.

“You might need a chaser.”

The smell of it alone made my eyes burn and my stomach do a
flip-flop, but I threw it back in one gulp anyway. Trying to keep it down, I'd never been so happy to chug a coke in my life.

I pushed the shot glass forward and nodded toward the bottle.

“Another coke, too?”

“
Definitely.” I slid the empty coke glass forward.

“
Want to talk about it?” he asked as he refilled both.

“
Nope.”
Not unless you want to die today
.

“
That bad, huh?”

“
Yep.”

I was still none the better after t
hree shots, a sugar high and a fuzzy feeling later.

“
What's got such a pretty girl looking down in the dumps?”

I hadn't noticed him sit beside me until he spoke, probably due to the aforementioned fuzziness. I knew he was older by his voice but
, when I turned toward him, I hadn't expected someone looking down a decade.

“
I'd love to share but I'm not at liberty.” If he only knew how honest I was being.

“
Then just listen.”

“
Thank you for the offer, but trust me, you really can't help me with this.”

“
You need to listen,” he chastised and even threw in a finger pointing for good measure.

I was wondering if I had a choice. He seemed intent on having discourse and I was pretty sure I couldn't drive. A taxi would take at least ten minutes to get here so I guess I was hearing him out whether I wanted to or not.

“I've witnessed war, death, disease and every other type of atrocity you can imagine, let alone the ones beyond your fathom.”

I'd been staring forward but now I looked back at him. He was old enough to have gotten around the block a few times and seen a few wars. But there was something about the way he said it that made
me start to wonder who, exactly, this man really was.

“
I knew you had good instincts.” He smiled as if he knew what I was thinking.

“
Who are you?”

“
I work for the company. You could call me a recruiter.” He took a sip of a draft beer he had in front of him.

“
Do you work in the building?”

“
We don't all work out of the building.” He leaned a little closer as to not be overheard. “Now listen to me, I know you plan on quitting at the end of the trial period. That's not a good idea.”

“
Why not? I hate this job.”

“
Doesn't matter. This is where you're supposed to be.”

“
Fate doesn't think so and isn't that his department?”

He shrugged.
“He doesn't understand, yet.”

“
But you, as a recruiter, do?”

“
Yes.”

“
Do you want another refill?”

I turned to the bartender, and waved my hand over the glass shaking my head.

When I turned back, the old guy was gone.