Chapter 9
"What do you mean you just left him there?" Rube folded the crossword section of the newspaper and set it down beside him. "Your job specifies that you take the soul and guide them into the afterlife." He leant forward and grasped his hands together, interlocking his fingers as he inhaled deeply and waited for her reply.
"In my defense Rube, he was an asshole." Daria replied flatly, as she attempted to justify her lack of professionalism.
"I don't care if he was Attila the fucking Hun! You do your job." Rube spoke through gritted teeth and his face grew red. "Fucking newbies, there's always something..." He took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Conspirators, the lot of you...At least you got him." He glanced up and met Daria's gaze. "You did reap him didn't you?"
"Yes." Daria replied defiantly.
"Good, so we can hopefully assume he was smart enough to get the idea."
Daria picked at her food; the sense of swollen joy that had embodied her over the past few hours ebbed, as she glanced at the other occupants of the booth. Georgia sat next to Rube, she avoided any noise or movement. Daria got the feeling she had been on the end of one of Rube's rampages before, and was glad this one wasn't directed at her. Mason sat beside Daria he had spilt the contents of a salt shaker onto the table and was now drawing pictures in it.
Daria heard Roxy before she saw her; her heavy boots thudded across the linoleum, as she approached the table.
"Jesus Christ George, again? I thought you were over the bullshit?" Roxy stood at the end of the table and glared at Georgia.
Georgia looked up at Roxy, her expression fell somewhere between guilt and annoyance. "What did I do this time?"
"The OD, at the law firm? You just left him there. Poor bastard's just drifting around."
"That wasn't mine -- that's Daria's mess." Georgia replied.
"I had a straggler before." Mason piped up. "Nudist. Had the biggest bloody balls you've ever seen."
"Mason." Rube warned. "You're not helping."
"Like two giant marbles in a sock, slapping up against his knees."
"Ugh, Mason." George cringed as she pushed her half eaten sandwich away.
Roxy eyed Mason and shook her head in disgust, then turned to Daria. "Well go on." She said impatiently, as she waved her hands at Daria to shoo her. She watched her leave 'Der Waffle Haus' then slid into her vacated seat.
Rube glanced toward Roxy as she sat and perused the menu. "Is he really still there?"
"The lawyer guy? Nah, I sent him along hours ago." Roxy chuckled. "Serves her right though."
Rube shot a disapproving look toward Roxy.
"What? She's gotta learn." She replied.
The darkened office block loomed in front of her; backlit by the dusky afternoon sky. The parking lot was empty, bar one solitary red SUV. Daria glanced at it as she approached the doors; of all the things her mother could be classified as, slacker was not one of them. She slipped quietly into the reception area of the building; she hoped she would catch the defiant soul of her mother's ex-boss, before she was caught.
The only light in the building seeped through a crack from her mother's office; slowly Daria approached the light source and peered in. Helen sat at her desk; head in hands as she drearily read through the mass of files in front of her. Reflected light illuminated her face, the once vibrant woman Daria had known now looked haggard and worn; the long hours at the office she had obviously been putting in, had taken their toll. Both Morgendorffer women were startled out of their respective reveries by a piercing wail of the office telephone; Helen jumped slightly and hit the speaker phone function.
"Helen Morgandorffer's office, Helen speaking." Helen donned her professional voice as she continued to read
"Oh, you're still there? Were you coming home for tea?" Quinn's voice floated over the phone.
"Oh hi sweetie, yes I'm still at the office, I... "
"Even after what happened?" Quinn interjected.
"Y...Yes, honey. How do you know what happened?" Helen's voice faltered slightly as she sat back in her chair and rubbed her temples.
"Marianne rang, she was pretty upset. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine darling, just catching up on some paperwork that's all. I'll be home around five, there's a lasagna in the freezer just..."
"Mom, it's six and there's no more food in the house."
"Oh, well order yourself a pizza. Is your father still there?" Her tone grew harder as she finished the sentence.
"Yeah, he's still in the living room. I still don't think he's left the house... Mom I..." Quinn's voice trailed off.
"Quinn, are you okay?"
"Yes, it's just I... never mind."
"If you're ringing to get an extension on your curfew..."
"No, I don't have a date tonight, I haven't since..."
"Then why don't you ring one of the girls, you should be with some friends."
"Friends...sure." Quinn's voice came, out barely above a whisper. "I better go, there's a call coming in, it must be Sandi... Bye Mom, come home soon, okay?"
"Sure thing honey, I just have to finish one last briefing."
The disconnection dial tone blared out of the small speaker; Helen sighed and hung up the room fell silent once again. Daria pulled away from the door and scanned the rest of the room; there was no sign of her charge. She cursed Roxy as she made her way to the front doors.
"The hell with Eric, the rotten bastard can stay here haunting the place, for all I care. Hell, it's probably his idea of heaven anyway," She mused to herself as she left the building and stepped into the muggy summer's night.
She had made it half a mile before Georgia and Mason had found her and explained that Eric had passed on hours earlier. Daria cursed as she jumped into the car, trying to erase the last half an hour; the miserable, fatigued appearance of her mother, the defeated crest-fallen tone of her sister. Reaping souls she could do; as surreal as it was, it's just the way it went, people die. It was the only certain thing in life. Putting up with being a stranger in her own town, going unrecognized by her best friend and family, downright sucked. She vowed right then and there, as the red convertible Mustang sped through the quiet streets of Lawndale, that she was going to do something about it.
