Afterlife Part 3

As I suspected, I didn’t hit the bottom and turn into paste.  I didn’t hit anything.  I just stopped falling and seemed to be back in that room of nothing.  And, my grandmother was there.  Only, this time it was my paternal grandmother.  I crossed my arms in front of my chest as I looked at her.  She was beautiful to look upon, of that there was no doubt.  But that’s about as far as her beauty went.  Still fuming, I glared at her.

“Which circle of hell did you crawl out of?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“From you?  That’s a good question, isn’t it?  What are the strings attached?  What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing.”

“All right.  Then what’s in it for him?”

There was the slightest hesitation before she again said, “Nothing.”

I barked laughter then looked around.  “Is he here?”  I raised my voice.  “You here you abusive son of a bitch?”

He stepped into the light, tall and sharp featured.  Some would call him handsome and hawk-like, a dangerous bird of prey.  He was able to bed the most beautiful women, after all.  At least, until he beat the crap out of them.

“You shouldn’t talk to your elders with such disrespect.”

I leveled my gaze at him.  “That suggests you are deserving of respect.”

“You never knew me when you were alive.  All you know are the stories you heard from your mother, that Lejunesse bitch.”

“Right,” I said, dragging the word out condescendingly.  Then I looked up.  “Is this my punishment?  I get to hang out with a couple of assholes?  That’s the best you bitches could do?”

I heard the sound of a belt jangling and turned to see my grandfather taking his belt from his pants.  Somehow, my grandmother had gotten a belt in her hands as well.  A long, angry strip of leather with a gleaming metal buckle.  I looked down to see my clothes were gone.

“Well, shit.”

My grandfather struck first, hitting the buckle hard against the bone of my hip.  It hurt.  A lot.  But, I didn’t cower.  I just got more angry.  When my grandmother swung at my head, I grabbed the belt, quickly wrapped it around my wrist, and yanked.  She stumbled forward, losing her grip.  Her belt ended up in my hand and I back handed her across the temple with my belt encased fist, sending her sprawling.  My grandfather screamed with rage, but instead of coming after me, he went after her.  I stood there and watched him beat her, watched her cower.  I always had a dual consideration for her.  I knew she was an abused woman but, like everyone who’s never been abused, couldn’t ever get over feeling angry at her for letting him be the monster he was.

As I stood there watching, seeing the lifeless look in her eyes, the one that said she had gone away and would be back when he was done, I forgot all desire to try to escape.  I unwound the belt from my hand and rewound it with the hard buckle swinging at the end.  Then I raised my arms above my head and rotated them faster, faster.  The buckle came down on the back of my grandfather’s head with a sharp crack.  He fell into a crumpled heap on the ground next to my grandmother.  I turned to her, my chest heaving.

“I don’t care what you do from here on out.  Just tell me which way to go.”

She took the belt from my hands, wrapping it around her own.  For a moment, I was certain she was going to continue to hit me with it then decided against it.  Instead, she motioned to my left.

“Go that way.”

“If I turn my back on you, will I regret it?”

She mused this over, looking at my grandfather as she did.  Slowly, she shook her head.  “Not this time.”

I shook my head and turned toward the direction she had pointed.  Very faintly, I could see a door in the distance.  I walked toward it.  When I reached it, a small bundle sat in front of it.  Jeans and a dark red turtleneck with a pair of black oxfords inside, gifts from my Mémère.  I put this on and went through the door.

On the other side of this door was an open air market.  I could see a mountain in the distance, leading me to surmise the market was in a valley of sorts.  There were all manner of things for sale from clothing to food to knick knacks.  I realized, finally, that I was hungry.  At first I hoped that there was no need for money in this world, but when I saw a sign that listed prices in every currency to be found on Earth, I realized that was a really stupid thing to hope for.  I dug around in my pockets.  Sure enough, my Mémère had left me some cash.  At least, it felt like cash.  I didn’t really want to stand in the middle of a busy street and count it.  If there’s need for money, there’s need for mugging, and I’d had enough violent crime for now.

The market seemed to go for miles encompassing every need of every culture to ever walk on the Earth.  There were kebabs everywhere.  Some smelled divine, but others made me want to run for the nearest toilet.  Before I could actually try to purchase anything, I needed to figure out what funds I had to work with so I could maintain looking as though I had a clue.  There were quite a few lost looking individuals wandering around so being one wouldn’t be that far of a stretch,  but I didn’t want to be one.  Somehow, I just knew that was a bad thing.

There were alleys to duck into, but that didn’t strike me as being terribly safe or smart.  Instead, I slipped behind one of the stands while the proprietor was looking the other way.  I quickly pulled the stuff that felt like cash from my pocket, counted about a hundred American dollars in twenty dollar bills, and tucked it back into my pocket.  As I merged back into the crowd moving up and down the street, I realized my Mémère probably would have made sure I had enough to get what I needed and felt bad for not trusting in her.

Of course, the question was what did I need.  Food?  Would be nice, but it’s not a dire necessity just yet.  Plus, I was reminded of the various RPGs I played when I was alive.  Get loot, get excited, spend loot on fancy sword, then need loot for a quest and have to go hunt rats for saleable pelts for the next three days with fancy sword.  I didn’t want to hunt rats.  Though a fancy sword would be kind of epic.

I decided that I would wait on spending money on food until I was absolutely starving or hadn’t found a different way of procuring it.  Though I was still irate, I also decided to keep my mouth shut about the Bitches that Be for now.  They may have minions in these parts.  In fact, I wagered they did just as I wagered they knew putting me in the middle of them would hold my tongue.  Being all powerful and spineless has got to be a tricky act to juggle.

As I walked through the marketplace, it was super hard not to stop and let the history nerd in me go crazy at certain places.  Especially when I reached a stand that sold fresh mammoth.  The man running the stand was small, stout, with a pronounced brow and red hair.  Cooked mammoth was for sale in the stall next to his, run by a younger version of the man in the raw stand.  I had to admit it smelled mouthwatering.  Really, what meat didn’t smell amazing cooked over open flame?  I suspected even I would smell pretty good.

The scent of singed fur caught up to me and I thought someone maybe didn’t skin their saber-toothed tiger well enough when a hand wrapped around my arm and hauled me backward into the people walking up and down the road.  I turned to see Felix there, Marianne looking pretty scorched and shaken up close next to him.

“What the hell happened to you two?”

“We’ve been travelling the planes looking for you,” growled Felix.

“You can do that?”

“I can, yes.  Marianne can if she’s with me.”

“How’d you get so powerful?”

“Someone had to if our family has any hope.”

“Great!  Then you can take me to my husbands.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Just shut up for a second and hug me.”

I sighed and hugged him.  He dug his left hand into Marianne’s fur then raised his right arm and staff into the air.  It started to spin around.  I huddled closer against him to avoid the wind as much as possible, his robes billowing out behind him.  It must have been quite a sight, but no one around us seemed to care.  Then I heard Marianne telling Felix to hurry up and looked behind us to see a part in the crowd.

Leathery wings flapped in the part, dust rising up around them and blowing out behind them.  I counted four pair.  As the crowd parted wider, I saw the wings were connected to creatures that looked vaguely like horses if horses had fangs and clawed feet.  They were bearing down on us angrily.  I wondered why they didn’t just fly at us and realized their wings probably weren’t strong enough.

My sister’s voice grew more and more insistent, the wind from my brother’s staff starting to displace the wares of the nearby stands, and I wasn’t worried at all.  We started to sink through the ground, the bat-horses almost on top of us with gnashing fangs.  One reached down to bite my sister and my hand shot out to bury in its mane.

“Hey,” I yelled, “Who the hell do you think you are?  A Bitch Steed?”  I looked up at the sky.  “Can’t do your own damn work?  Gotta send some shitty geldings to do your job for you?  You know what?  I think I want one for myself.  I’m taking your stupid horse.  You  hear that, Bitches?  I’m taking something from you.”

My hand stayed buried in the mane of the bat-horse as we sank through the ground, my sister’s hide unharmed.  Whey my eye caught the eye of the bat-horse, I realized it looked surprised.  Surprised and confused and a little insulted.  Interesting.  I gave it a big smile.

“Don’t worry, I don’t actually think you’re stupid or a shitty gelding.  I think you’re kind of awesome and would like to be your friend if you’ll let me.”  I let my smile soften and warm.  “We can talk about it later.”

The bat-horse nodded and relaxed, letting itself sink with the rest of us.

Afterlife Part 2

I walked through the door into a cool, crisp meadow in the midst of a winter thaw.  Having never learned fancy tricks like being able to tell the time of day by the location of the sun (pending this was actually my sun), all I knew was that it was day.  There was movement to my right and I turned to see a small canid form trotting toward me, but it looked a little…off.  As it drew nearer I realized it was a jackal wearing the skin of a fox.  Quickly, I tried to think of what you’re supposed to do when you meet with a jackal.  Wave your hands in the air and yell?  No, that was bears.  The Egyptians would suggest I offer up some beer, meat, and myrrh.  Perhaps being made of meat would help?  I could spare a couple of fingers if it meant reaching my husbands.

The jackal grew nearer and I could see that it was black and either female or without sex.  I’m pretty sure Anubis was all male, but after a few thousand years, who could really be sure?  The jackal stopped in front of me and sat.  As it looked up at me, I thought I saw its eyes narrow with exasperation.  When it spoke, I was certain it had.

“I see they let you stay human,” came the voice of my sister, the oldest of the eight children my parents bore.  At 21 years my senior, she had died quite a few years before I had.

“Is that good or bad?”

She shrugged.  “Depends.  Having hands can be useful.  So can a strong sense of smell.”

I nodded then smiled a little.  “So are you a jackal bitch because that’s your true nature or because you didn’t draw so great from the hat?”

“I can very easily leave you here to fend for yourself.  I chose to come here to help you.  Not everyone did.”

“I’d say guilt is a hell of a motivator, but sociopaths can’t really feel guilt, can they?”

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

She turned and started to trot off.  I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I treating you the same way you treat others?  Fairness was never in your wheelhouse, was it?”

She growled.

I smiled.

“Wait up.”

She growled again but stopped moving.  I fell in beside her and she resumed walking again.

“So what killed you?” she asked.

“I’m sure a mix of heartbreak after Ezo died and just being old.”

“Oz dead too?”

I nodded.  “He died a few years ago.  Heart attack.”

“I always figured Ezo would die from that.  Though Oz was always a little high strung.  What killed Ezo?”

“Cancer,” I said with a frown.  “He’d had it for a while, but stuck it out through sheer force of will until he just couldn’t do it anymore.  I managed for a couple of years after that, but it was just too much.  I’d spent too much of my life with him, with them.  I was ready to just be done with it.”

“What about your kids?”

I didn’t much care for her tone. 

“My kids are fine.  They know I love them.  They also know they’re here—there—wherever—because of the love I had with their fathers.  After all, I didn’t choose a physically abusive alcoholic to mate with.”

“You don’t have to be mean.”

“Neither do you.”

She trotted out of the meadow into a lightly wooded forest and I followed after her.  I realized that if she decided to run off, she could probably outrun me with no problem.  I also knew she wouldn’t do that.  My sister was a lot of things and I knew full well she would complain about it afterward, but she would help me.  Somewhere in her was the spark of my parents.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said.  “Why are you a jackal?”

“I don’t know.  The Powers just decide and they don’t answer if you question them.”

“The Powers?”  I looked around then looked up in the sky and said loudly, “Oh, you mean The Grand Assholes who won’t let me see my husbands?”

Sharp teeth dug into my  hand and pulled me down onto the forest floor then stood over me, protective and waiting.  When nothing happened, my sister turned to me, her eyes blazing.

“What is wrong with you?  Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

I looked at my hand, the holes in it, the blood seeping out.  Frowning, I said, “This isn’t going to get infected, is it?”

“Forget about your hand.  You can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Challenge The Powers like that.”

“What are they going to do?  Kill me?”

“Yes.  This is only one stage of many possible stages.  Our brother, Marc, challenged them, and now he’s gone and I don’t know where he went.”

“For now, but he’ll fight for his kids once they’re here.”

“Maybe.”

She let me stand up and we continued on our way.  The trees around us were deciduous, but not any sort I’d seen before.  There were thorny vines with large leaves scattered around.  They reminded me of blackberry brambles, but you couldn’t pay me to eat something out here without a breakdown of chemical composition first.  And, I wasn’t feeling very hungry yet.  It’s possible I wouldn’t need to eat.  Then again, I bled and felt pain.  My systems seemed to be working and they would need something to resupply them eventually.

“So it seems like this doesn’t really go along with any of the major religions of our world.  Is it just where the nonbelievers go?”

“No.  Theo and his wife are here.  He’s dealing with it as well as can be expected, but she’s not—which is no surprise.  She’s got him on some journey to find Jesus.  They’re traveling with a group of people like her.  I told him to leave her, but you know how henpecked our brothers are.”

I smiled a little.  “Can’t imagine who taught them that was normal.”

“Don’t blame everything on me because I’m the oldest.”

She glared at me then pushed forward.  I followed, no idea where we were going.  Then I had a thought.

“Wait.  You didn’t know Oz and Ezo were dead. How do you know where we’re going?”

“I don’t.  Not in that sense. I’m just going the way that feels right.” She looked at me. “You’re intending to find them?”

“Of course.  I have no intention of going through eternity without them. I plan to find them then, when our kids die, find them and so on.”

“And you think that will work?”

“I have no idea.  But, I know Ezo and Oz found each other and I know they’re looking for me.  That’s a start.”

“Are you sure they’re looking for you?”

“Well, I had a vision and I’ve never had a vision before.”  I waved my hand around. “I’m assuming The Bitches That Be provided it.”

She flinched and cast a wary eye upwards.  I started to tell her to not be so paranoid when I heard movement in the woods behind us.  She did, too, moving in a blur behind me, teeth bared with a low growl.  I looked up at the sky narrowly, shaking my head, then slowly turned as well.  A figure just a few inches taller than me wearing what looked to be great wizards robes in deep purples and blues stepped into our path.  He held a staff in his right hand, the fingers around it covered in ornate rings.  His left hand came up to push his large hood back and my jaw dropped.

“Felix?”

He gave me a big smile then looked down at our sister and his dark eyes grew wide when they landed on the fox around her.

“Why are you wearing Mom?”

Marianne avoided looking at me as she lowered her head.

“The Powers sent her to another plane.  I was freezing.  She told me to take her hide as she wasn’t using it any longer.  Grandma made a shawl for me.”

Felix started to argue with her, telling her she should have buried mom and that she was disgracing our mother by wearing her like a jacket.  I only half heard their exchange.  I was starting to get angry again.  Very angry.  I looked up at the sky.

“Who the hell do you think you are?  What did she do to offend your oh so sensitive sensibilities?  Did she try to find my dad?  Did she try to find her kids?  Did she get pissed at you for being a bunch of hiding behind the clouds assholes?  What was it Bitches That Be?  What was it?”

The ground started to give way beneath me as I spoke and I could hear my brother and sister yelling for me to shut up.  Felix jumped for me, but he was too late.  The ground opened up and I went in it.  But, I didn’t scream.  I was too pissed.  My anger was permeating every cell of my body.  I wasn’t going to give the Bitches any satisfaction.  I’d already died once.  Took the oomph out of it.  I’d given birth.  I could handle pain.  I didn’t care what they thought they would or could throw at me, I wasn’t going to take it.

I raised both my arms in the air, my hands in fists.  Slowly, I extended my middle fingers alone, aimed them upwards, and left them there as I fell.

Afterlife Part 1

Dying is an interesting thing.  I imagine it’s different for everyone, of course.  How you take it depends on many different factors: how old you were, how sick you were, if you had people you didn’t want to leave, etc.  Unfinished business.  Business that’s been finished for so long you wonder why it took so long for your heart to finally grind to a halt.

For me, it was bittersweet.  I was old, had lived a good life.  Nothing remarkable, but it was a good existence as far as I was concerned.  My only claim to fame was getting polyandry legalized in my country—the grand old US of A.  It was kind of a big deal to some, but stopped being such a big deal after a couple of decades.  There’s always something more sinful to come along.

I had two husbands.  We were together for 70 years before we started dying.  If not for our kids and grandchildren, I know I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.  As it was, I only handled it for face value.  When my second husband died, that was it for me.  I told my kids not to take it personal.  I loved them more than anything—except their fathers.  They understood that.  We raised them well.  They grew up to form exceptionally tight bonds of their own.  They understood.

Still, as my brain began to shut down and my heart started to slow its beating, I felt a pang.  These were my kids.  I fought like hell to bring them into the world and protect them from it and raise them to be the best people they could possibly be.  I succeeded, of that I have no doubt, but I was going to miss them.  Just as I would never again see their fathers, I would never again see them.

I think I cried.

There were some lights, but I knew that was my brain doing its final shut down mode before “It is now safe to turn off your computer” flashed upon the screen.

When the final toggle was switched, a series of interesting things happened.  My life didn’t flash anywhere.  Instead, I was a fox in a glen playing with a wolf and a bear.  Then I was a Musketeer except we had lightsabers instead of swords.  I played guitar and sang in a band that consisted of myself, a bassist, and a drummer.  More soul wrenching music I had never heard.  I was the red center of a trio of intertwining lights, the other two being green and blue.  I was the green light on a stop light at an intersection I never saw before but greatly enjoyed causing mayhem in.  I was happy.  I was secure.  Everything I ever needed was right here surrounding me.

Then I was alone.

I cried.

The crying lasted for quite a while.  Time is weird in places like this.  I may have cried for minutes.  I may have cried for centuries.  Eventually, I got tired of crying.  I got tired of feeling sorry for myself.  Yes, I was dead.  Congratulations.  Me and however many billion other people.

Me and both my husbands.

Everything around me was dark.  Like I was suspended in nothing.  I had a firmness under my feet and could probably start walking, but suspected I’d keep walking for quite a while.

There were a handful of things I was exceptional at when I was alive.  Jill of all trades, sure, but instead of none, I was pretty masterful at a couple.  I was an excellent wife and mother.  I could sing with the best of them.  No one could out gravy my gravy.  And, when I wanted, I could run my mouth like a river over rocks.

“Well, hello nothing.  Nice to meet you.  We’re going to get to know each other.”

As I spoke, I realized my voice had lost a bit of age.  I ran my hands over my body—which I realized was nude—and felt things were a little less saggy, a little less old.  From my best guess, I was just adult.  Novel.

“Sorry about that,” I continued.  “Got a little distracted.”  I patted my breasts.  “They always were lovely.  I admit I missed them.”

Silence.

“Tough crowd.”  I smiled a little.  “As near as I can figure this is either all in my head or some sort of afterlife that our wee human minds could never really come up with.  There’s, of course, a third option.  Something that I could never think of because it’s just beyond what my meager human brain could invent.  I suppose, first, I need to figure out a way to communicate with…well, I don’t know.  Just a way to communicate.  Then a way to travel.  And a destination.  The first two, I’ve no idea yet, but the last.  The last I know with all my heart.  My husbands.”

The darkness became a dim light and two images appeared: my husbands.  Osborn (Oz) and Ezo.  They were about thirty, smiling, happy, full of light and love.

Again, I cried.

“Yes,” I said.  “Yes.”

Their images changed.  They became resolute, determined.  They were together wearing clothes I never knew them to own.  Clothes of men walking in a desert trying to avoid the wind, sun, and sand.  Suddenly, they separated.  The taller of them, Oz, jogged away as Ezo knelt and pushed his robes behind his right hip.  As I watched, horrified, a scorpion the size of both of them combined ran scuttling after Oz, enormous stinger raised and ready.  Ezo pulled a weapon from a holster on his hip—a gun—aimed, and fired.  White hot plasma shot forth into the scorpion’s tail, exploding it.  It reared up in anger and pain and, at that moment, Oz ran it through with a spear.

Blackness fell over me again.

This time, I did not cry.

“Where are they?” I demanded.  “What is happening to them?”

Silence.

Anger filled me.  Protective, white hot anger.  My voice lowered.

“I may just be a speck in the universe, but I’m a very determined speck.  And, it seems, I have a very long time to hone my determination into something dangerous.  I suggest you work with me.”

I made sure this threat was not idle.  I embedded it in that thing people liked to call the soul, filled everything that made me me with it.

“I strongly suggest you work with me.”

For what seemed like eternity, I had no response.  My resolve started to falter but there was no way I was going to give any sort of jackass higher being that level of satisfaction.  I held stronger, faster.

“I can wait.  I’m a very patient woman and I know my husbands.  I know they will destroy whatever manner of shit you throw at them until they find me.  Because that’s what they’re doing, isn’t it?  Looking for me.”

“Yes, and no,” came a female voice that seemed familiar though I had never heard it before.  It almost sounded like my mother, but not exactly.

Slowly, a light brightened the room softly and a woman I had only seen in pictures and, on occasion, the mirror, stood in front of me.  My heart leapt into my throat.

“Mémère?”

She smiled—a smile she had graciously allowed me to inherit.  “It’s great to finally meet you.”

I started toward her then stopped, suspicious.  “It is, but this is a little awkward.  As I have no idea what’s going on here, I have no idea if you are who you seem to be.”

“And I have no real way to convince you of who I am.”

“Not quickly anyway.”  I looked her over, frowning.  “But, I don’t really have a choice, do I?  I have to start somewhere.”

She nodded and handed out a bundle to me.  “Getting dressed would probably be best.”

The bundle contained thick wool pants and a high neck wool sweater.  I donned it, expecting it to be scratchy on the inside but to find it silken instead.  She smiled a little and I remembered that my grandmother was one of the best seamstresses to ever walk the Earth.

“I added in the silk.”

“Thank you.  So, I take it this means we’re going somewhere cold?”

“We’re not, but you are.”

I grinned a little.  “Don’t tell me that I got here and hell froze over.”

She returned it.  “Oh, that happened well before either of us.  You’ll see.”  She motioned behind me.

Slowly, I turned and saw a path lit through the darkness.  At the end of the path was a door.  I stared at it for a long moment.

“Wizard through there?”

When I turned back to smile at my maternal grandmother again, she was gone.