Chapter 2
We slowly drove—He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility—
Emily Dickinson, "Because I could not stop for Death"
"BingelyBingelyBeep! It is now eight of the o'clock!" Grace groaned and slapped uselessly at the imp. Her cousin had bought this Dapplebump planner Version 7 at a flea market, and it was beginning to be very irritating.
"Good morning, Moira!"
Grace couldn't reset the imp's programming, so no how many times she told it her name, she became this Moira person. Whoever Moira was, apparently she was as irritating as this imp, since the imp often told her things on her to do list that she suspected were once on Moira's.
"'S Grace," she mumbled, clutching her head against her hangover.
"On your list of things to do for today, include visit the apothecary for—"
"Shut up."
"—speak to Mr. Baldwin about the new fountain pens—"
"Shut up."
"—audition for the talent scout—"
"I did that yesterday," Grace interrupted.
"—and, wait, what?"
"Yeah. Yesterday at two."
"Oh. Well, what about escort Mr. Door around Casnip?"
"Shut u—wait….oh, yeah, I do need t' do that," Grace commented. She clenched the gold in her fist possessively. That had been a profitable night. She changed into a set of homespun pants with a matching shirt, both of which were stitched in the ugly way amateur garments made by someone who regularly stabbed their thumb with a needle did. They had a familiar, washed out gray that the poor regularly wore. And boy, was Grace poor.
She stuffed the box with the imp in her knapsack, along with her notebook of inspirational sayings and musings, and legged it to the Lazy lady, knowing she was late, probably about fifteen minutes late.
YOU'RE LATE.
"Sorry, uh…I got a hangover, you know." Death looked extremely critical. I AM NEVER LATE. IT IS ONE OF MY BETTER KNOWN QUALITIES. Grace sniffed. "Well, surely some people have been late to see you before."
Vaguely Death replied IN A WAY, PERHAPS ALL OF THEM.
"So…you're mad I'm late? It's not like I do that all the time." Death grinned, although normally a skull has no options. But this time he meant it. NO ONE IS EVER LATE WITH ME, MISS TIPPET. EXCEPT ONCE.
Grace felt a chill, but disregarded it.
"You want a tour or not, Mr. Door?"
CALL ME BILL.
"Well, do you Bill?"
ER….YES. WHILE WE DO SO, WILL YOU TELL ME ABOUT THE BOOK YOU ARE WRITING? Grace's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "That's private. You're not trying to steal my ideas are you?"
OH, NO. OF COURSE NOT. I'M JUST A BIG FAN OF YOURS. Grace brightened. "Well, okay, if you insist. I'm thinking on titles. I was going to choose between Morbid Mayhem or Vitalis. Which do you like?" They passed the post office as they walked down the dusty road. "That's our post office. Ankh-Morpork said we should have one, built it, and made us pay for it. But the stamps there are as good as money." Death nodded.
THE POST OFFICE. I SEE. HOW FASCINATING. I THINK YOU SHOUD PUT DEATH IN YOUR NOVEL.
"But it's about love and honor and fear."
I THINK DEATH CAN GO WITH THOSE THINGS, he said, a little hurt.
"Okay, okay. So…Death, then. I could say love was desire. Maybe…..loyalty instead of honor."
PERHAPS DUTY, said Death, wondering why he was having to steer her in the right direction after their discussion last night.
"Hey, yeah, that's genius, that is! Death, Duty, and Desire. A novel in eight parts."
Death sighed, making a sound like tumbleweed across the plains. A DISSERTATION? He asked, an edge in his voice.
"That works too, but I don't know if dissertation is the right word," said Grace grudgingly, then added, "And there's the grocer's. Beside that is the trading post, where you get clothes and your essentials. Across from them is the apothecary, which sells herbs." Death agreeably asked I SUPPOSE HERBS ARE IMPORTANT? Grace gave him a look, and then said matter-of-factly, "Of course. Herbs are healthy."
NIGHTSHADE ISN'T.
"Now you're just being obstinate."
I APOLOGIZE. LET US TALK MORE ABOUT YOUR BOOK. TELL ME ABOUT THE PLOT. Grace looked inordinately pleased at his interest. "Well, I realized that just because a myth is a myth, doesn't mean it isn't real. Werewolves used to be myth, and look what happened! Why can't they be real….and still remain a mythical thing? How do the ideas get in peoples' heads if there wasn't some basis for it? So I thought, why not Death? Big reoccurring theme in literature, Death is. Very sound. Can't argue with it. But just because he's a story, don't mean he isn't real too."
Death was trying not to laugh.
"What's so funny?"
VERY INTRIGUING. PERHAPS I COULD HELP?
"Oh really?" Grace said acidly. "And how could you help, Mr. Bill Doo….ooo….oooohhhh SHIT!" And took off at a dead run, or would have, if Binky hadn't stopped her first.
"Gnnngh…….gnfngl….De…..Dea……rrrghhh"
YES, IT DOES TAKE SOME PEOPLE THAT WAY.
"Er…I'm not going to….." Grace let the sentence hang, not unlike a dead body swaying from a noose
OH, EVERYONE IS. BUT YOU? NOT JUST YET. Grace visibly relaxed. "Oh, okay, then. That's fine. Wait….if you're Death—"
EXACTLY. I THOUGHT YOU PORTRAYED ME VERY WELL. Grace frowned. "I haven't, you know. Not yet. I got to write the story. You came too early. But, do you remember other stuff?"
I REMEMBER EVERYTHING. LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY. LIKE IT WAS TOMORROW. BUT ABOUT YOU IN PARTICULAR? NOT IN SO MANY WORDS. I REMEMBER MEETING, THEN I REMEMBER THE BOOK. I ASSUME IT WAS BECAUSE WE CONTINUE ASSOCIATION. He noticed her expression. THIS BOTHERS YOU?
"Well, you are the Grim Reaper. But, actually…no author ever has gotten such a big scoop. You've seen everything! Everywhere!"
INCORRECT.
"What?"
I HAVE SEEN EVERYTHING OF THE DISC, AND OF THE L-SPACE INFINITY. BUT NOT SO MUCH OF THE REST OF THE UNIVERSE.
"Still…..I'm a writer. I live in myth. Why not…." She started hesitantly, then said solidly, "actually live with myth? It'd be an experience. That's if it's all right with you, of course."
YOU REALLY WANT TO VISIT? Death asked, astonished.
"Oh, yeah. I'll bet you've got loads of neat things."
YOU'RE REALLY INTERESTED?
"You betcha. When can we go?"
AFTER THE TOUR.
"That was the tour."
OH. WELL, NOW.