****A/N: In order to understand the posting of this, please read the note under our profile.****
Death Be Not Proud
by Jane4God and J.H.
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
----John Donne
"How was school today?"
The immediate, clamorous response from both sides of the supper table brought a smile to William Marshall's lips, and he held up his hands to stem the flood of enthusiasm that was making it impossible for either him or his wife to comprehend what their children were saying.
"Slow down, both of you," he said, reaching for the butter dish. "Your mother and I can't understand a word you two are saying." He picked up his knife and looked at his daughter, who was waiting expectantly. "Elsie, you first."
The eleven-year-old grinned and happily stuck her tongue out at her older brother in triumph. Kevin just rolled his eyes . . . it was a nightly game they played, and one that he would miss dearly next year when he was away at college.
The game over, Elsie turned her attention back to her father, her former enthusiasm returning. "It worked! The volcano worked! It erupted and everything!"
"Great!" her father replied. The whole family had been up until ten o'clock the night before helping Elsie with her science project. She had built the volcano by herself, but she hadn't been able to get the right combination of baking soda and vinegar to make it erupt. She had enlisted Kevin's help at seven, but by ten o'clock (when they finally achieved success), both of her parents had joined in on the fun; although, it had taken her mother until midnight to clean up the disaster it had left in the kitchen. That morning, Susan had carefully measured out the exact amounts of baking soda and vinegar from the previous night's success and sent her daughter off to school with the hope that it would work again.
"That's wonderful, honey," Susan said.
Elsie beamed proudly. "The teacher said our next project is to build a three-foot paper maiche dinosaur." With that, she scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes and became oblivious to the rest of her family, intent on her supper.
Susan and William exchanged amused, but weary, glances across the table. William could tell what his wife was thinking. If the volcano had made a mess . . ..
"Hey, Dad," Kevin said, interrupting the silent conversation his parents were engaged in, "guess what?"
"What's that, Kev?" William asked, glancing over at his son.
"They made me co-captain of the football team today."
"Good for you, son!"
"And," Kevin continued, "there's going to be a scout from Notre Dame at the game tomorrow night."
"Kevin, that's wonderful!" Susan said.
"Nervous, son?" William asked, nodding towards Kevin's still-filled plate.
"Maybe a little," Kevin admitted with a sheepish grin.
"You need to eat, Kevin," Susan said. "I even made strawberry shortcake for you tonight."
"Thanks, Mom, but–"
"Oh, no!" Susan lamented. "I forgot to get whipped topping when I was at the grocery store today!"
At the words "grocery store," Elsie's head snapped up.
"I can run to the little store on the corner! Please, Mom! I can do it!"
"I don't know, Elsie," Susan began.
"Awww, Mom, come on!" she pleaded. "It's not even six-thirty, and it doesn't get dark until after seven, and it's only right down on the corner. Pleeeeeease!"
Susan hesitated, and glanced at William for help. Elsie had recently started to stretch her wings, but Susan wasn't so sure she was ready to let her little chick go flying yet.
"Let her go, Susan," he said. "She's done it before. It's not that far, and we can see the store from the front window."
"Yeah, c'mon, Mom!"
Susan sighed. "All right, but you go and come right back. No dawdling."
Elsie grinned and pushed her chair back. "All right!"
"Want me to come with you, El?" Kevin asked with a knowing twinkle in his eye, as Susan pulled a few crumpled bills from her pocket.
"Yeah, right, Kev," she replied, taking the money and skipping out the kitchen door.
"Come right back!" Susan called after her.
Elsie skipped proudly down the sidewalk, the money tightly clenched in one fist. Not even Mary Sue or Jessica got to go to the store by themselves. They would be so jealous of her when she told them tomorrow.
A motion further down the sidewalk caught her attention, and she looked to see two men walking towards her. One man had his head down, and his hands shoved deeply into his jacket pockets, and seemed completely unaware that someone was walking next to him. And that someone–Elsie stopped skipping as she caught a good look at him. He was dressed in a dove grey suit, and there seemed to be a soft light shining all around him. He was looking straight at her with a sadness in his eyes, but for some reason, Elsie knew he wasn't sad for himself.
Not quite sure what to make of this strange man, Elsie slowed down to a walk. She never once took her eyes from his–for some reason, she seemed unable to do so. But the more she looked at him, the more she felt a strange sort of peace fill her soul. She was almost close enough to reach out and touch him when she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, and began to fall forward.
The other man tried to reach out to stop her fall, but his hand caught in his jacket pocket. As she was falling, Elsie heard a loud explosion, and felt a searing pain rip through her chest.
"Oh, God," she heard a desperate male voice say. "Oh, no!"
She heard the clatter of metal on the sidewalk and the sound of rapidly retreating footfalls.
"Elsie."
This time, the voice was calm and a haze of pain, she opened her eyes to see that man, the one in the grey suit with the light glowing all around him, kneeling beside her.
"Can't . . . breathe," she gasped. "Hurts . . . so . . . much."
"I know. My name is Andrew, and I'm an angel. I'm going to take you Home."
"Angel?" she whispered with failing breath.
"Yes," he replied, and she closed her eyes, too weak to say more. Andrew looked down next to his feet to where the discarded gun lay. He picked it up, turning it over in dispassionate examination. He sighed and looked up, glancing down the street, but there was no sign of the killer. The killer wasn't his problem, though. He was here for Elsie. He looked back down at her. It wouldn't be long now.