Heaven in Hiding

I cracked open my eyes, immediately regretting the action as the piercing yellow sunshine that streamed in from the window opposite my bed flood my vision. Grabbing my pillow, I pulled it over my head and groaned. I wasn't a morning person.

"Late night, I see."

I squinted and peeked out from beneath the pillow to see the window wide open and Darrin sitting on the sill. He was dressed in his usual attire; straight-cut, medium washed jeans with a brown belt, sneakers and a tight fitting t-shirt that perfectly outlined his muscular arms.

"I brought breakfast." He smiled and held up a tray with two hot to-go beverage containers and a plain white paper bag.

The smell of fresh, warm bagels wafted in on the soft morning breeze and filled the small room. I tossed the pillow and my puffy blue comforter aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Yawning, I looked over at the alarm clock on my nightstand.

"Shit! It's already nine-thirty?"

I jumped off the bed and rushed over to my long and low dresser, yanking open the top drawer and digging around at the unkept mess within.

"Um, yeah!" Darrin laughed out. "Why?"

"I have to meet Maggie in a half hour."

Quickly, I grabbed clean underwear, socks and a bra before pushing it closed. From another drawer, I took out a pair of black, straight-legged jeans and two tank tops, one white and the other a deep violet. Leaping into the bathroom directly beside my dresser, I pushed the door closed behind me but because of the towel hanging from its corner, it didn't close all the way.

"You have plenty of time. I'll walk with you and we can eat on the way," Darrin offered.

In no time flat, I pulled on all my clothes, brushed my long black hair up into a high ponytail, and smoothed out my bangs across my forehead. As I left the bathroom, I tossed the oversized Led Zeppelin t-shirt and booty shorts I slept in on the bed and tugged on a pair of black ankle boots with a two inch wedge heel.

"She's always on my case about being late to our meetings," I huffed, somewhat annoyed.

"Messengers have little else to do," Darrin scoffed. "She can wait."

He backed out the window onto the fire escape and I stepped out behind him, closing it from the outside.

"Do you ever use your actual door?"

"Only when I'm not with you." I winked at him.

He laughed out heartily at my witty remark and together we climbed down the metal staircases. I lived on the fifth floor of a twelve story apartment building in the middle of the city. The traffic was heavy and nosey, but it was a cheap place to rent and close to everywhere I generally worked, with the exception being my latest mission. On the occasion, I would take jobs that required more travel, but only if I was compensated for it.

The fire escape put us in the alley between the building and a Chinese food restaurant that only did take-out. It was a frequent source of meals for all tenants of the building, but me especially. The owner, Mr. Zhou, always gave me meals at half price because I was the only one that spoke fluent Mandarin and we'd often have pleasant conversations about his homeland, in which I had spent almost two years in before relocating. He always said I reminded him of his youngest daughter, who passed away about five years ago from a rare blood disease. He had seven children in total and obviously loves them all equally, but I always got the feeling by the way he spoke about her and the glimmer in his old eyes that they shared a very special bond and he missed her deeply.

Darrin and I merged our way onto the busy sidewalk and he handed me one of the hot containers.

"English Breakfast tea with lemon and one spoonful of sugar," he announced."

"Thanks." Appreciably, I took it from him and gulped back a steaming swig.

"And," he held the bag under his elbow and opened it with his opposite hand. Fumbling around inside, he pulled out something wrapped in bright yellow paper. "an Everything bagel with American cheese and egg."

I quickly snatched it from him, peeled back the paper and began devouring the delicious breakfast sandwich. The "hungry horrors," as my dad called them, were a typical side effect the morning after a reaping. For some, they hit sooner. Darrin, for example, would wake up in the middle of the night and eat practically everything in his kitchen in a wild frenzy and looked as though raccoons had had a ragger.

As we walked by a trashcan, he threw the cardboard drink tray and bag into the receptacle so that, like me, he walked with his drink in one hand and sandwich in the other. Very different from me, though, he drank black coffee and had two sausage patties and four strips of bacon stacked in with his egg and cheese.

"So," he started with a mouth full of food, "how did it go last night?"

"Fine," I shrugged. "Same as every other one, I guess."

"Oh, c'mon. He didn't cry or beg or try to run? I love it when they run. When they hit that glamour and come bouncing back like a rubber ball against cement!" He let out an entertained chuckle. "It's hilarious!"

"He did try to run, but for the most part he coward. In my experience, cheaters are always cowards."

Darrin took another giant bite into his bagel. "I feel most of us would agree with that statement."

"Anyway, what have you been up to?"

"Not much. Jared, moved to London last week. I'm meeting my new Messenger, Jeff or Greg or something, on Thursday. Without any work, I've just been enjoying what the city has to offer."

"Oh, yeah." I swallowed the last bite of my sandwich and giggled. "What exactly is that?"

"I've been going to the movies a lot. My roommate is the manager at the one on the corner of Wells and Dounton. He gets me in for free and lets me hang out in one of the unused theaters. He even showed me the room where they keep all the films and how to set them up to play. I just finished watching all the Transformers movies."

"Wow, impressive," I mocked.

Darrin gave my shoulder a playful nudge. "Shut up! You know, you should come with me sometime. I'll even let you pick one of those sappy, gross girly movies."

"I'll pass on the mushy movie, but I might just take you up on the offer. There's a new Jennifer Lawrence movie coming out soon I want to see."

"You got it!"

I took another few sips of my tea before continuing. "So, besides sneaking into the theater and taking advantage of free soda and popcorn, what else has the city provided to you?"

"I've been going to this club downtown a few nights a week." His tan cheeks pinked slightly. "There's this dancer at this place called The Spotted Dog that works there. Her name's Ginger, though I'm sure it's just a stage name. She's very exotic looking, absolutely gorgeous, and she's got these long, amazing legs..." he trailed off with a deep, dreamy sigh.

"Have you talked to her?"

"Nah." Darrin finished his sandwich and tossed both his and my wrappers into another trashcan as we waited at a crosswalk. "I don't even know what I'd say to her. Besides, I'm pretty sure she has a boyfriend. Every night she's been there, there's also this dude that sits at a corner table and watches her. After her number, he usually leaves, but I've seen them talking a lot."

"Could be a friend or a manager or even another poor sap like you drawn in by her beauty and the way she moves her hips," I teased.

A stupid, goofy grin spread across his face. "Man, can she move."

We crossed the four lanes of traffic with the crowd and made our way down 23rd Street. I took out my phone to check the time. It was ten minutes to ten and we were still about fifteen minutes away from the café where I normally met Maggie. Shoving it back into my pocket, Darrin and I weaved around a couple walking hand-in-hand in front of us. The sidewalks here weren't too crowded but they were still a buzz with joggers and students rushing to get to the college campus just two blocks away.

We passed by an empty bench, an abandoned newspaper on the seat. I reached down, and picked it up, the bold headline, "Local Accountant Found Dead: Police Believe Accident," on the front page instantly catching my attention. Still aware of myself and my surroundings, I read the article as I continued walking alongside Darrin.

There were only so many scenarios Receivers could use to cover up a reaping and, truthfully, when I asked Nora to handle this one delicately, I didn't really have a specific one in mind. Given the choices, this one seemed the least cruel for Frederick's particular situation.

Disappearance was the most commonly used explanation for a reaping. It was known by the general public as simply running away. The person was unsatisfied with their life, home, family, whatever, and chose to start anew someplace else. They cut all ties to the person they used to be and seemingly disappear. More often than not, it doesn't work that way. More often than not, it's the result of a reaping.

Personally, I always found it to be the most cruel form of cover up based solely on the fact that there is no closure for the person or people left behind. Now, this could be a good thing. The person's friends and loved ones hold onto the hope that they are living their best life, doing what they want, where they want. However, I believe that is only a small percentage of how those people feel about it. I think they spend more time worrying or obsessing or trying to find meaning in why the person left to begin with. To me, it seems like constant torture and just knowing the person was dead would be better than always wondering what happened to them.

The second most common cover up is an accident of literally any and all manners of the word. Could be an accidental drug or alcohol overdose. Could be a transportation accident; car, train, bus, plane, bicycle, boat, hot-air balloon, you name it, Receivers have used it. Even animals. Have you ever heard those stories of people who sneak into the zoo at night to pet the lions or bears or whatever? Yup. The person wasn't a moron who wanted to cuddle with a gorilla. They were reaped and the Receiver on duty was looking for a way to cover it up.

As horrible as it might sound, Receivers have also just left the body in the person's home. This is especially the case if they live alone and have no family or close friends. In those cases, it is usually ruled, to the public, as an unknown death. The person simply died. In other situations, the Receiver will actually inject a serum into the soulless body that mimics a certain disease or illness. It makes the coroner believe the person had an underlying and unknown alignment that ultimately ended their life.

Scanning down the article, I looked to see what "accident" was used in this case. Nora had taken advantage of the incredible amount of alcohol in his system and paired it with a large dose of Tylenol, enough for a horse, making it look as though Frederick were simply too drunk to realize, or count, how much medication he had taken.

A statement from a coworker read: "Fred and his wife lost their second child recently and I knew it was hitting each of them hard and in their own way. He was a good guy, but even he knew he was rolling the dice against the Devil and everyone knows you can't cheat death forever."

Truer words from a human have never been spoken.