Disclaimer: I don't own anything involved with Dead Like Me, including the characters, nor do I own iPod or Gameboy or…I think that's it.
Well, I guess…enjoy.
George Lass was the only one sitting at the booth, and she felt empty. It wasn't a complicated thing; she was simply waiting for someone to show up. It didn't have to be Rube (who was going to arrive any minute now, if her clock was up to snuff), it didn't have to be Mason (who usually managed to beat her here, even though he was always recovering from the cheap whisky from the night before), it didn't have to be Daisy (who could never help but ask George's reason for being late on the days that she showed up dead last, which was pretty much every day), and it didn't have to be Roxy (who could give a rat's ass about anything). She didn't know the reason, but whenever George thought about each of them, she couldn't help but feel safe. Maybe knowing that you aren't the only one harvesting souls is a much more securing feeling than knowing you aren't the only one filing papers every day of your life for a hack that works eight floors above you and gets paid eight times more. It also helped that she knew that all of them had been reapers long before she had, and she wasn't the only one who had ever questioned her role in the afterlife and why she should give a flying fuck.
That was why, right then, as George sat all alone in Der Waffle Haus with the all too comforting sound of yodeling, she felt empty.
As she listened to the sound of the rain, she started to wonder why she had come here so early. Daisy had been sound asleep when George had left, and the doors of the familiar German diner were closed for another hour. Having no where else to go, George had settled under the candy stripe awning. Twenty minutes later, Kiffany had seen George on her way in and let the shivering blond in before doors opened officially.
And as George mulled over her thoughts, as always, the first customer to walk in was none other than Rube, who greeted the staff with a genuinely Rube-ish smile and a tip of his hat before making his way over to the booth.
As he turned to pass the first row of booths, he spotted George and sat down across from her. He didn't seem too surprised to see her there so early, but then, Rube was never surprised.
"Morning" was all he said.
George stared at him as he settled in, picking up the menu. She vaguely remembered something he had said before about knowing by heart what the menu said, but still having to read it to make sure he knew what he was getting. She idly wondered what it must be like to have the names of people who would be dead soon in your very pocket, or wherever he kept those damned yellow hellbringers. She never paid much attention to where he kept them, but knew they had to be on him, which meant they could get stolen, or wet, or lost, or anything. If they were destroyed, Rube would have to hurry home to his little list and write everything down again, which could cause delay, which could cause failure to reap. Then Rube could get his ass fired. Of course, Rube probably had the actual list on him somewhere, so-
"-Georgia."
"What?" George looked up to see the impassive face of Rube and the equally impassive face of Kiffany.
"Your order."
"Oh, I'm not really hungry" she said, and quickly added "but thanks."
Kiffany nodded and was on her way. At this point, Rube was staring at her expectantly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring. And it's never nothing. There's always something."
"Humans aren't that complicated, Peanut."
"But you are."
He smiled. Yes, it was a Rube smile.
"You're right. It is something. So let's get right down to it. You tell me what's wrong, I'll listen, maybe even give you some advice. You see, it's my job to make sure you, Georgia, are happy. Because when you, Georgia, are not happy, you tend to mess up."
George exhaled and inched toward the innermost part of the booth so she could lean up against the wall. She knew it was useless to tell him nothing was wrong, and equally as useless to ask him why he thought something was wrong. Besides, she sort of wanted to confide in someone right now.
"I've been thinking. About Betty."
Rube was silent.
After a few minutes staring contest with Yodeling's Greatest Hits hovering around in the air, Rube finally closed his eyes.
"And?"
"And what?"
"What about her?"
"You don't ever think about her? About what would have happened if it was you who jumped in? You know…into the light." George was far past crying about Betty, but the emptiness you feel when you just finish crying about someone or something was still there. George had been feeling empty a lot, lately.
"I try not to think about what-ifs, Peanut." Rube checked his watch, which George took as a sign that he didn't want to be a part of this conversation.
"Great."
By now a few more people were leaking in: a couple who looked like they might be traveling, a middle-aged man wearing a suit, and a teenage girl with only a black T-shirt and plaid pants. George wondered absently if the girl was affected by the freezing weather wearing just that, but then realized that she was probably the only being on the planet with no car. As soon as she finished this thought, Roxy filled in the space next to her. Again there was a silence while Roxy examined the menu briefly.
"Where's Mason? This conversation is a real drag" George commented.
"Because no one can hold up a conversation like Mason."
George glanced at Roxy. "Are you two always like this in the morning?"
Rube answered for her. "Some people enjoy silence."
"Some people are wankers." And here was Mason now. He sat down, filling up the last bit of space on George's side and beaming when Kiffany arrived with Rube's food and asked for Roxy's order. "Don't mind them, Georgie; they've both got sticks up their bottoms."
"You're going to have lead in your stomach, soon" Roxy threatened after Kiffany had left.
"Excuse me."
All four heads looked up to the teenager George had seen enter before.
"Which one of you is Sofer comma Rube?"
Roxy was smart enough to not let on that she knew, in fact, that the dead man mentioned was sitting across from her right now, but Mason and George looked at him right away. Roxy elbowed the both of them, and the teenager snorted.
"Don't be so paranoid" she said, "orders from the top to come find you."
At that moment, the last reaper to arrive finally did. Daisy sat right down next to Rube and began applying make-up to her face.
"Uh…" the girl's mouth was slightly open.
"What do you want?" Rube said.
The girl ceased staring at Daisy and looked back at Rube. "Oh, right. Ted didn't deliver The List today, as you know. I'm supposed to stick with you for a 'hands-on' evaluation."
George scratched her forehead. "Ted?"
"Yeah, he's the guy who delivers The List of who's to die."
"And his name is Ted?" Mason stared in disbelief.
"I don't know. Could be."
"What's this about an evaluation?"
She looked at Roxy. "Oh. You know, making sure the job's been done right…There's been some souls that haven't been taken care of recently and a lost reaper in this particular group. I have to sort it out and make sure I don't have to replace you."
Mason blinked. "Replace us?"
"I'm sorry. I meant replace Mr. Sofer."
George raised her eyebrows and took to staring at Rube's half eaten food.
"You're sacking me because a reaper disappeared and the new kid fucked up a few times?" Rube didn't just own his own smile, he owned his own frown. Probably owned his own everything. You know, 'the many faces of Rube.'
"Don't try to pin this on me," George protested, glaring at the salt and pepper shakers.
"I'm not sacking you. I told you that I'm evaluating you."
As if to extenuate her point, the girl brushed off the front of her shirt and sat down next to Daisy, digging in the pockets of her pants. She started pulling things out and placing them on the table; things like brightly colored marbles, a coupon for laundry detergent, three quarters, an iPod, a bread crust, an assortment of pins, a Gameboy with no batteries, a tiny thesaurus, and finally, a few crumpled up purple post-its. She smiled toothily and handed each of them- including Rube- a post-it.
"Excuse me, but are we taking orders from you now?" Daisy had just finished putting her make-up away and decided to speak up.
"Well," the girl shrugged, shoveling everything back into her pocket, "Mr. Sofer is your superior and I am his superior, but the thing is, you don't have to listen to him. Conversely, you have to listen to me."
Mason caught his tongue before he said anything about Rube's priceless expression. At the same time, Roxy laid down the money for the order that hadn't yet arrived for her and pushed Mason out of the way so she could leave. George was quick to follow.
"You two better not mess this up!" the girl called after them cheerily.
She moved to the other side of the booth to sit next to Mason and smiled.
"Why are you evaluating Rube if it's Georgia that messed up mostly?" Daisy asked, slightly leaning over the table.
Mason decided to escape before the volcano erupted, so he turned to the girl. "Excuse me, darling, but I have a reap to catch," he smiled as charmingly as he could and tapped his post-it.
She let Mason out and sat back down, answering Daisy as soon as she was sure he was gone. "Mr. Sofer is responsible for all of you. He's your teacher, your caretaker, and your herald. We need longer lasting reapers like him, you see, and the older ones aren't teaching the younger ones too well. It's becoming a trend for reapers to go into the light in an act of passion or enlightenment," she spat the last word.
"And how old are you?"
They both looked at Rube.
"I don't think that's any of your business," she smiled sweetly.
Rube stared at her.
"Now then, Daisy, I think we'll be on our way. Please excuse us. Oh, and Mr. Sofer? Don't forget to pay for your food." And with that, she got up and headed to the door.
Daisy glanced at Rube and took her post-it, sliding out of the booth and exiting as well. Rube sat still for about thirty seconds until he threw down a few bills with a little more force than necessary and followed suit.
This was going to be hard sailing.
Well, review if you want. I'd also like it if you told me how BORING it was, strangely. Thanks.