Title: Nomah's Land
Author: Angel Starbeam
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Dead Like Me.' MGM & Showtime does, and Bryan Fuller created it. Trust me, if I did own it, Bryan Fuller would've had full creative freedom and the show might have gone longer then two seasons.
Chapter 3: A Pale Horse
The night sky cleared up, and became alight with stars. Revealed what was lost by light pollution. Such a night was calm and beautiful. It was the kind of night for lovers to rekindle the romance, children fall asleep to wondrous dreams and humans in general surrender to the mysticisms of the world. But for two undead grim reapers and a young ghost, it meant that the night was not over yet, and while everyone else was asleep, they were getting bored.
Angie lied on her back and tried to see if she recognized the constellations. She was able to find Orion's Belt. Mason, opting to sit up, was able to find Sirius and Ursa Major. George went to check up on the phone lines to see if they were operational again to call anyone for help.
"Hey," Angie piped up, "Since the lights come from the sky, do the dead go to space when they get their lights?"
Mason thought about it, and then said, "Space is a pretty big place so there'll be plenty of room"
He then pointed skyward," Pyxis."
"Have you gotten your lights? When you died?"
"The lights are for souls who are ready to go. You don't get them when you're a reaper." Mason said with detachment, "We get them it's our time to leave. Delphinus"
Angie, mildly piqued, glanced at the constellation that Mason pointed to.
"Doesn't look like a dolphin."
"Doesn't matter," Mason responded, "As long as it has a name." He once again pointed to the sky, "Equuleus."
"The lights were different for everyone else," Angie remembered the others. One girl, Emma Curtis, had lights had taken the form of a swing set.
"Yeah, every gets their own lights show, something they want to see." Mason remembered dead Florence that left him her house and social security checks.
He drained the checks. Well, almost. George found out a bit after he moved back in the house, and took control of them to pay for the bills. They both agreed that was his rent payment for now.
"Want do you want to see?" Angie asked, "When you get your light show?"
"Dunno," Mason replied breezily, "Probably nothing you definitely want to see."
Angie decided to agree. She even thought she probably didn't even want to know what the reaper's deepest desire to see was. But she was still curious…
"When do you get to leave?"
"When my quota's up." Mason replied nonchalant.
"What quota?" Angie asked.
"Quota of the souls I'd reaped," Mason answered, a bit somnolent.
"How many reaps do you have left?" Angie then paused and her brow furrowed, "Man that sounds so office like."
"Don't know," Mason replied, "It's another thing we just don't know. It just happens."
"No offense, but sorta sucks." Angie, "It's like they're just prolonging your life and you get to die again."
"Well, they think it's for the best," Mason said, "Whoever they are."
"So you're not bothered by it?" Angie a bit surprised, "Do you want to leave? Get your lights?"
"Actually," Mason dragged a leg to his chest," I don't want to leave, as much I didn't want to die. I just sorta accepted to it being fucked up. That and have an occasional drink."
Angie was incredulous by his reply, "But what's your reason to stay? It's like you're in limbo while the rest of the world moves past you. Why be in limbo? What good is it offering you?"
Mason didn't answer. George trekked backed into the glow of the campfire and sat down.
"Phone lines still don't work. They collapsed and broke off."
"You know, the people in charge picked this place because it was a safe place to camp." Angie remarked, "They didn't count floods obviously."
"Lovely view of the sky though. You can see all the stars." Mason pointed to the right, "Puppis and Columba."
"Do you spend all your time looking at stars?" Angie scowled at Mason.
Mason shrugged, "No, I just know them."
"He also knows Homer's Iliad," George added.
"Do you know how much sex and violence are in Greek myths? Leave it to university professors to take things that are interesting and make them mind-numbing and boring as hell."
Angie took on a pensive look. "What do you do all day? Just reap souls?"
George shook her head, "No, we still need to eat and pay the rent, so we have jobs. I'm an office assistant."
"I steal things and sell illegal substances."
Amazing what he can say with a straight face. But that's who he was. Mason was just Mason and Mason stole valuables and dealt with drugs.
"Ever got caught?" Angie asked.
Actually, a more accurate question is how many times he has been arrested.
"Do you want the total number, the times when I was alive or when I came here?"
"Total number of convictions."
"If I can remember correctly, five times, alive and dead," Mason recounted, "Last time was before I transferred here."
It was probably the reason why he was transferred here.
"Had to get my salary somehow."
"And you chose theft," Angie turned to George with a bit more respect, "And you chose to get a day job."
"Stealing from the dead was too tacky for me," George clarified, "This one guy let me have his car though."
"What kind of car?"
"A blue Mustang, great mileage."
"My sister is saving up for a Jetta," Angie said, "So Dad won't have to drive us."
Once it was out, Angie realized that once her sister finally gets the money, she'll be driving alone. Will she even want to save up anymore? Or even take the test for her license? Angie wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
"Are you cold?" George asked. It was simple courtesy.
"No," Angie loosened her grip, "Its weird, my last thought before…you know…was I was cold. From the water. Pretty stupid, huh? I was dying and all I was thinking about was how cold I was."
"You were cold," George languidly explained, "My last thought was 'Aw Shit."
"Really?" Angie grinned, trying not to laugh at the concept.
"It was a reaction; I was killed by a toilet seat."
"It was original, no one had been killed by a flaming toilet seat," Mason smiled.
"Okay," George turned to him, "What was your last thought?"
Mason furrowed his face, as if trying to remember. He then replied, "I don't remember my exact last thought, but I do remember I kept thinking how it didn't hurt so I'll be okay."
He looked at the two teenage girls' faces, which were both perplexed.
"I was stoned." He elucidated. He then got up, his lanky form made bizarre shadows on the trees.
"Going somewhere?"
"I gotta take a piss."
"Don't get lost."
"Have a little faith Georgie-girl. I'll right behind the trees."
"Just as long we don't see it," George remarked, tilted her head to Angie, "She's been traumatized enough."
Mason and Angie both chuckled. Angie then glanced to him.
"Hey, what's that one?" Angie asked, pointing to a particular form next to Equuleus.
Mason looked up to the direction and replied, "Pegasus."
"Pegasus, the flying horse," Angie turned to George, "is George your given name or is it short for 'Georgette' or 'Georgia'?"
"Georgia," George said listlessly, watching Mason moved to the trees, and though she knew he was just behind those trees, George felt he practically disappeared.
If he gets lost, and I have to go out and find him, I'm gonna borrow Roxie's gun when we get back.
"Georgia Lass," Angie saying it as if tasting the name. "Is 'Lass' Scottish?"
George just looked at her
"You know, Lass, sounds close to Lassie." Angie exasperatedly explained her guess, then shrugged," 'Lass' isn't a common name."
"What about 'Alvarado'?"
"'Alvarado' is like 'Smith', it's very common surname," Angie said mater-factually, "it means 'dweller by the white hill, or dry land'."
"You're into etymology," George stated.
"A little, mostly names. My name is 'messenger.'"
George knew that, "Do you know 'George'?"
"It means farmer or earth worker."
"So I'm a farm girl?" George said with some disdain. She was attached to her name, with all its unusualness.
"I don't know. Were you a farm girl?"
"No, I lived in the suburbs."
Angie tilted her head, "Well to be honest, you do kinda remind me of those girls on Little House on the Prairie, except if they were in the city now."
"So I'm a prairie girl?"
"Maybe," Angie shrugged, "Maybe a Scottish prairie girl."
Georgia still frowned, then curious, "What does 'Regina' mean?"
"Queen, as in royalty."
So I'm Scottish Prairie Girl and Reggie is a Scottish Queen.
"My sister's name has two meanings," Angie went on," one is 'pure' and the other is 'torture.'"
"Pure torture?"
Angier laughed and nodded.
"She told me that. She thought it was funny," Angie ran her hand through her hair, "We both have weird sense of humor."
"You two talk a lot?"
"I guess. She says that she's my complaint box. Whatever is bothering me, I tell her. And we talk about it. Sometimes, she can be a little judgmental but she always listened."
"I never talked to my sister," George confessed.
"Why? You didn't get along?"
George looked back to the fire, "I just didn't talk to her. Didn't want to be bothered. I was pretty much like that with my parents too. It was a waste of time trying to get them to understand me so I didn't bother."
"My sister didn't understand me either but I talk a lot and she didn't. She listened. Or daydream."
"Does she seem like she's living in her head?"
Angie nodded, "Yeah, she's not very open to people. Especially we don't know. She just stands around or has her book to read."
"She sounds like a good person."
"She is, I don't have to be her sister to say it."
"What does she say about you?"
"She tells me that I'm getting less lazy and finally helping." Angie rested her chin to a palm, "But she tells everyone else that I'm out going and really pretty."
"Were you?"
"I went with my friends to the movies or hang out with them at our house. It's not I went to a party every Saturday or anything."
"I usually stayed home too," George reflected, "My mom did make me go to Garfield Park to learn how to swim."
Thanks again Mom, I didn't die by drowning.
"Garfield Park," Angie was taken aback, "You're from here?"
"Yeah, I was. Born, raised and died."
"Like a hundred years ago or just recently?"
"Recently. I'm pretty much a new kid at the whole undead reaper thing."
"There's a family next door name Lass," Angie started to braid her hair, "I thought you've were like a hundred years old or something."
George felt her heart drop and brain freeze.
"What?"
Angie looked up, holding a half made strait, "Pretty stupid to assume it. But since your friend died in the '60s and he told me that another person been at this since 1912…"
George stopped her, "The family next door."
"Oh, my next door neighbors. I don't know them too well. They just moved in. Their last name is Lass too."
This is either a big fuck up cosmic joke at my expense or a big lucky coincidence.
"Think their relatives of yours?"
"Might be," George hoped, no knew, "Where do they live?"
"Why, you want to see them? Are you allowed to do that?"
"Just tell me."
"6149 Madison Avenue, near downtown." Angie looked straight at George with forlorn, "You're not supposed to see them."
"As long as I don't talk to them, I'll be fine."
Bizarre lanky shadows appeared again. Mason sat down next to George.
"Wash your hands when we get back."
Mason grimaced, "We'll both just had a shower. Five hours in the rain. I don't blame Angie, it was fucking cold."
"Angie, does Mason mean 'one with no sense'?"
"No, it 'stone cutter'," Angie answered, "Kenneth means born of fire."
"Well, he likes to play with matches."
"It also Gaelic for 'handsome,'" Mason defended, "Which also fits me quite well."
George scoffed and Angie laughed.
"What's your middle names?"
"Liam."
"That's Irish. It's not a full definition; it has 'will, desire, helmet,' and 'protection.'"
"The desire part could fit me," Mason faced George, "Your turn."
"Lynn." George muttered.
"Georgia Lynn," Mason exaggerated, "Pretty."
"I agree," Angie said, "Its Welsh for 'lake.' But it could also be short for 'Linda,' and that means 'beautiful.'"
George felt her face warm up a few degrees Celsius.
"Georgia Lynn," Mason repeated.
"My middle name is 'Rosa,' a flower. Don't think it means anything."
"A friend of mine has rose perfume," George faced up, "Her name is Daisy. Another flower."
"Day eye."
Mason smiling, looked to the sky for more stars, and saw a shimmering. An expected shimmering.
"Hey, Look." He pointed up once again.
Angie expected another constellation or a shooting star.
"What's that?" Angie was mesmerized.
"It's your time to leave," George answered.
The area, dark and red from the fire light, was illuminated with white. They heard a whinnying sound and a great white horse with wings and a radiant aurora raced down before them. The horse was very large, with a glowing white hide and it wings were glowing the most. It stood with the wings spread out, waiting for its appointed rider.
"Pegasus is your lights?"
Angie shrugged her shoulders and grinned brightly, "I love horses"
With that, Angie ran over to the horse and jumped onto the saddle. She waved goodbye and they then rode straight to the sky. The forest became dark and red once again. Mason and George just stood silent.
Mason then pointed up to the right, "Eridanus."
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