The assistant slammed a brand new copy of the yellow cover book against the desk. The sound startled quite a few of those present. At least a couple were hit by violently unpleasant high school flashbacks. Alex appeared unmoved. She had liked school. Librarians had always favored her, not that this one was too friendly; the redhead barely spared her a look. In any case, books and learning brought back only pleasant memories. So far, not so bad. She was curious where this was going.

"This is your instruction manual," the assistant spoke. She surprised Alex with a stereotypical Russian accent. Do they let Russian spies in Catholic heaven now? Alex idly wondered as she leafed through the volume. It had short chapters with questions at the end and blank spaces for answers. There were even pictures, supposedly to make it all clear as day. Alex gauged it was 6th grade reading level. "I expect you to read every chapter until closing time. There will be a quiz tomorrow morning. If you fail, this will count as a strike against you. Three strikes and you're going downstairs."

Some in the room looked around in alarm.

"I'm dyslexic," a middle aged woman commented in a chain smoker's voice.

"This is a fair test. Your needs and circumstances will be taken into account," the assistant reassured her.

"How many quizzes are there going to be?" The guy who asked looked to Alex like the typical meth manufacturer – skinny ass, black teeth and wild, if cunning, eyes. "I dropped out in 9th grade."

"This is the only written quiz. I want to make sure all of you understand your role. The rest will be practical tests."


The next morning, they were the only ones in the library. The assistant shepherded them to the reading room, where school desks had been spaced out for the quiz. Alex noticed that most of her fellow felons once again looked sedated. She had not drunk anything ever since this business started and her skin was starting to break but her head felt perfectly lucid. Whatever she'd had at Fahri's party must've cleared out by now. She hadn't been this sober in quite a while. It wasn't bad. Not at all. It even felt… nice? This edge of heaven thing must've rubbed off on her, because the lifetime of doubts and insecurities had lessened considerably. She felt like the best version of herself, which she hadn't had since the first time she'd tried ecstacy. She smiled at the memory. Good times. Alas, all in the past now. Every subsequent time could not replicate that first instance of perfect freedom and unity with it all. But the thought didn't bother her as much as it usually did. Even the ominous notice on the chalk board didn't worry her. It actually said: Surprise, you're dead! She was relaxed enough to chuckle to herself. As if they did not know they'd crossed over. Maybe not all of them did. The suicide bomber had actually gasped. Maybe he thought you could blast yourself to heaven in one fine bleep piece? Like launching into space or something?

"These are your quiz sheets," the assistant's voice focused her back into the reading room. A pleasant breeze came in through the open window, along with distant seagull calls. The scent of seaweed and fish tickled her nostrils. She felt a bit hungry and realized they had not been given anything to eat. A notebook dropped onto her desk. She opened it. Every page had her name at the top, followed by a different question. "Do I need to remind you cheating is not permitted? I think I do. You're not here because of your honesty. In any case, the Divine is all seeing, There is no point in cheating. I think you all know, or at least can imagine, what the wages of sin is. The clock starts now."

As soon as Alex's pen lifted off the paper, the assistant was at her side. She pretty much snatched the notebook away. Alex flicked a surprised look upwards.

"Everyone's still writing," she observed, having noticed the others hard at work, some of them struggling quite painfully, even sweating and bleeping under their breath.

"As I said yesterday, everyone's needs and circumstances are taken into account. You, Ms Vause, have no problems with reading comprehension and your writing skills are on par, as well. In your case, we expect you to get to work asap."

"But you haven't even read my answers."

The redhead grinned. She made a show of giving the notebook one long, laser-like look. She then stamped the cover with a large, fat A+.

"Happy? You're hired. Now please follow me. The business of death dealing is never ending."


When the assistant had said death dealing, she made the job sound a lot grander than it turned out to be. She had, also, been wickedly sarcastic. According to the library-based St Peter, they were all death dealers in one way or another. Only now they were forced to see it from another angle. Alex had no doubt them lot thought this was very clever and a fair punishment to boot.

A punishment it was. For one thing, her first un-chaperoned job took her to Litchfield Correctional Facility, colloquially known as NY's upstate women's low secure prison. Alex had never been to prison before. Her smarts and care in covering her bleep, no doubt added by a good dose of good luck, courtesy of Diane watching from a more central neighborhood of heaven, had spared her up until whatever happened on that Long Island beach. She was still in the dark about that. She'd of course asked about the details of her untimely demise but the assistant had only said she would be briefed in due time. Now in heaven time was a very relative concept. For all she knew, it could be aeons until they told her. And in the meanwhile, she was beholden to their sorry bleeps, doomed to walk the earth in the shadow of humble deaths.

Well, one got poetic when waiting for their next pupil to expire, if this was one's only emotional contact with another human being. Even though Alex was quite sure she was not human any longer. Or, as the song says, she was now more human than human. What are you when someone literally conjures you up in their time of dying, yet you feel everything they feel? Pretty bleeped up, for one thing.

Especially now, because this girl did not like Alex. She had looked at her with angry, bleeped off eyes. She had no idea that she had birthed this vision into existence for the sole purpose of having a hand to hold onto as she passed into the ether. Truth be told, Alex didn't like her either. The little waif with white bleep cornrows was not particularly bright or interesting. For a first pupil, she was definitely a let-down. And she took forever to die, too. Right now, she just sat there in the cleaner's closet, drugged up to the gills, looking into space, probably not even registering that the warm fuzzies she was trying desperately to hold on to were fatal.

It was a mildly nice feeling. Alex had blinked at first, as a memory of a similar time was brought at the forefront of her mind. It was kind of a polite high. Relaxing, for sure, but not exactly earth shattering. Alex closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the experience, the way they teach you in meditation: sit with the sensation, become curious about it. Try to remember it so you can use it for a later, less pleasant time. There was a shuffle and she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her shin. Her eyes popped open, facing the girl's angry stare.

"It's all your fucking fault! If it wasn't for you, Mendez would've got me the good batch!"

Alex watched the girl in disbelief. What she said made no sense. And she hadn't bleeped. This was as real as it got. Real in all its stupid glory. The girl tipped the rest of the baggie's contents into the spoon. Alex felt her unmoving decision. Back in her actual life she had been quite skilled at changing people's minds. Right now all she could do was watch. She had absolutely no power over this hopeless kid's life. But she could feel every aspect of her misery, the depths of her misguided path to self destruction. There are people out there to whom it seems every horrible thing happens. Minuscule chances are sometimes granted, only to be snatched away around the corner, replaced by another calamity.

The girl had not wanted her hand held, not even when that kiddy fiddler-look alike CO walked in and tied the noose around her neck. She was finally bursting with understandable anger at the realization she was exiting a life that had never quite started, to the point where Alex felt like she couldn't bear it any longer. She was quite sure she'd passed out for a millisecond, before another kick to the shin brought her back to the light blue tunnel the girl had imagined. The girl ran right past her towards the light, waving her arms wildly at someone she knew. And that was that.