Yep, I still don't own DLM.
Wowzers that took hella long. Well here it is, the third and final (just kidding) installment of "Should I Stay Or Should I Go." This is dedicated to Ira, who helped me hone my writing skills. Hope you like it! It…gets… weird.
"Mason," I scoffed, "I am not going up to some strange smiling guy on the side of the road. He looks like he keeps people in his trunk."
"Why?" Mason asked, befuddled, "Because he's smiling?"
"Well… yeah."
"What about that creepy woman you work for? Lucille Biggums?"
"You mean, 'Delores Herbig'?" I thought of the frightening smile and scarily wide eyes that I had grown so accustomed to, "…Let's go ask him."
As we neared, I noticed that he was pretty fucking weird looking; he stood tall and statuesque, letting the rain fall into his thick hair and filter out through his eyebrows where it would drip down the lids of his squinting eyes and trickle from his eyelashes. He was wearing a pale green button-down shirt, tucked into high-set dark khakis, with a pair of shiny brown shoes. His smile seemed to be frozen on his face, his bright white teeth glistening from the thin coat of moisture that had slipped into his mouth. The only sign of life in this man was the waving of his arm, slow and constant, and almost hypnotic.
With reluctant desperateness, I slowed down and brought the car in towards the sidewalk where he stood. As the fiery red coupe came to a complete stop, the man leaned over so that his face was parallel to the open window of the driver's seat and he smiled brightly, crow's feet gathering heavily at the corners of his eyes as he did so.
"Umm, excuse me," I asked, "Do you by chance know where–"
I looked at the post-it in my breast pocket.
"–38 Packard Lane, Silverton is?"
His mouth closed as his smile stretched from ear to ear.
"Well, then honey, I think you're home."
"W-what?" Mason's eyes widened in shock, "Buddy, do you mean, that, oh my god, Georgie, loo–"
"But, Mister," I imparted, "Really, do you expect me to believe that we–"
"Uh, George," Mason poked me. I shook him off of me.
"Shut up, Mason, I'm talking," I turned to face the stranger again, "Do you really expect me to be believe that we randomly stroll along this random street, in this random neighborhood and ask some random guy where we are–"
"Uh, Georgie," Mason tapped me again, "You really should take a lo–"
"Mason, shut up! I'm talking! And we just happen to be exactly where we need to be?"
"George! I've been trying to tell you! Look at the mailbox!"
I turned my head slowly to look at the mailbox and saw "THE BAURBERS 38 Packard Lane" painted onto the side.
"Yes, Miss Lass," my jaw dropped, "I do believe you will."
"Roxy… why today…?" Jacob's stare burned a hole in her face, "I know you… well, I thought I did… but… well, you ain't never like this unless something really bad is going down. …I… I'm a little scared to ask, but… Roxy… what happened today?"
Roxy turned around to face him. Her eyes welled up. So many thoughts filled her head. In a way, she had almost wished that he had left her for her lies and for… what she was. It would be better then having this amazing guy who loved her so much that he would love her no matter what… and then have to leave him. Roxy straightened herself up, pulling together all of that hard shell that she had built up for so many years.
"Raymond," she spoke solemnly, "Remember Raymond?"
"How could I forget?" he looked back at her with a ferocity to him that beguiled and intrigued her. In his face she saw her life's worth.
"Rube is my boss. He tells me who, when and where… and now that we have this sticky situation with Raymond, the who and the where is changing. I'm changing. He wants me to change my identity."
"What do you mean?"
"I… I don't look the way you see, through my eyes. Through my eyes and the eyes of other Reapers and the soon to be dearly departed… I look like I did before I died. …Remember, when I told you that I had to go visit my mother on Halloween, and I didn't see you the whole day? Well… it was because… on Halloween and All Saints Day… I look as I did before I passed. Well, I'm getting off topic, listen, Rube spoke to the people in charge and they decided that… that I need a new identity before the court gets involved in this situation…"
"I'll love you no matter."
"But… they'll be putting me in a different location. And I won't know where until the day…"
"Roxy… I don't care," she laughed a relieved and happy laugh, "They'll send you home once more, right? To get your things?"
"Well, when Daisy came, she had some of her things, so yes… I do believe that they'll send me back once more to get what I can carry."
"Well, then I'll take off work. Better yet, I'll quit."
"But, Jacob! You're job! You can't sacrifice it for me! I mean, what if something goes wrong and you can't come with me? Then you'll have no job! How will you afford the house?"
"Roxy… you're the love of my life. Where you go, I go. Baby, if we can, I want to marry you–"
Roxy's eyes welled up again at Jacob's reckless sentiment.
"Roxy, I'll sell the house–better yet, we'll give it away! George… Mason… Daisy! Not Rube, but I do believe we can trust one of the kids, I bet they'd love a place of their own. We can sell the stuff we won't bring for some money to start developing our lives again. We can take the clothes on our back, some more maybe, some money, my mother's ring–"
"What? Y-your mother's ring?"
Jacob smiled a you-caught-me smile and went closer to her and took her hand.
"I've been meaning to tell you. Well, when I said I was going to visit my mother, it wasn't to hide my real face… it was to get my mother's ring because, well Roxy…"
He pulled himself down onto one knee and Roxy began to weep tears of joy. He took his mother's wedding ring out of his pocket.
"Roxy… will you be Mrs. Jacob Greene?"
Roxy was choked up, she couldn't believe how amazing this man was, and how lucky she had been and was. So many thoughts went through her mind, muting her almost completely. He was the real deal. This man would leave his whole life behind just in order to be with her, no matter what the risks may be. Roxy forced herself to muster the ability to speak two words before she could speak no longer. These words, carefully chosen were, "Of course."
Standing up, he lifted her into his arms and swung her around to then kiss her passionately.
"Roxy," he said with a loving smile stained on his face, "I love you, forever. I'll call right now and tell them that I'm moving and will have to leave my position. They'll understand, and if they don't, fuck 'em. We'll pack now, and I'll be home every waking minute until you leave."
Roxy nodded and kissed him again.
"I'll love you forever."
Daisy snapped the cover of her compact closed and put it in the small white leather bag that hung from her bent elbow. She adjusted the bag to sit upon her shoulder and continued her stroll down the crowded sidewalk. Not far ahead she saw the address of her reap. A pessimistic middle-aged man sat on a bench in front of Mom & Pop Coffee Shop. Several businesses away from him, a man began to ascend a ladder that was leaned upon the front board of a movie display in front of a cinema.
Daisy pushed her large black sunglasses up from her face to sit in her curly blonde hair. She took the post-it out of her bra and examined in, "P. Kraft." Daisy thought to herself and then went towards the man on the bench.
He appeared nervous as he saw her approaching him but thought nothing of it and looked away as if confident that she was heading for someone or something else. He picked up the abandoned newspaper that lay by his side and opened it fully so that only the top of his head was visible.
Then suddenly, he felt the leverage of the bench change beneath him and a tremor ran through his body. Ignoring it, he soon found a chin nestled onto his shoulder and a lock of snowy blonde hair falling onto his chest.
"What're you reading?" Daisy asked with innocent flirtatiousness. She looked up and down the pages and then to him. He felt her gaze and shivered again.
"T-the Metro section. T-there's a new museum opening up down town. D-do you like museums?"
"Hrmmmm…" Daisy looked playfully quizzical and then smiled, "Yes, I do believe I do."
He smiled nervously and nodded once.
"D-do I know you, Miss?" he asked.
"I… I think you do," she smiled faintly, "You look like someone I knew in high school."
"Miss, I do believe I'm much older then you…"
"I skipped 2nd through 4th and 7th through 9th," Daisy replied confidently, "What school did you attend?"
"Joyce Held High in Parton," he answered in a way that sounded more like a question.
"Oh my god!" Daisy exclaimed, rising from his shoulder, "Don't you remember me? Oh, my goodness, you haven't changed a bit."
She touched him lightly on his arm, taking his soul.
"You're name was… oh god… hrrmmmm… something with a 'P' I think? Perry, Peter, Paul, Parker…?"
"Yeah, it was Paul. H-how did you know?" Paul answered, "We haven't seen each other in years. I'm sorry, but I can't even say I remember you… uh… uh…?"
"Daisy," Daisy chirped, "Well… I do admit… it's easier to remember someone's name when you had the biggest crush on them in high school."
"Y-you? Liked me? B-but I was more of a loser then, then I am now."
"I never thought so," Daisy forced a blush.
In the corner of her eye she saw a graveling scale the wall of the cinema.
"Well, Paul… I've got to be going. Let me write down my number for you."
Paul smiled weakly as she fiddled through her bag for a pen.
"Ah-hah!" she said upon discovery and took his hand in hers, "Do you mind? I don't have any paper…"
"No, it's fine," he replied meekly.
Daisy wrote the seven digits of her number into the palm of his hand and closed his hand around it.
"Well, bye then," Daisy grinned standing up, "Goodbye Paul Kraft."
"Daisy, no, don't go," he reached out just a moment too late and she was too far away. Daisy ignored his plea and continued along the street. Paul looks contemplative as if his mind wanted to stay but his body urged him to follow. As Daisy passed by the ladder, Paul chose pursuit.
"WAIT! DAISY!" Paul called out.
Some kids started running around as their movie let out, and a graveling loosened the screws that connected a plank in the ladder.
Paul began with a walk and throwing caution to the wind, ran after her.
To avoid danger, the man on the ladder went down a couple planks on his ladder. The plank gave way under his heavy body and the man instinctively grabbed onto both sides of the ladder, and pulled it downwards with him into the street.
"Daisy! Wait!"
A black SUV swerved out of the way of the man's fallen body and rode into the sidewalk pinning Paul to the wall of a convenience store.
"Wow," Daisy said never turning around, "Ladders really are bad luck."
Okay, yes, I know it's short. I'm hoping that it left you on a cliffhanger. Tell me what you though! Leave a review.