Business with Life

Enjoy all the time you have left, my mother told me, before she died.

I never understood, how important those words were. Not until the death itself came for me as well.

In my case the death had the form of a small package, waiting in my rented studio flat, when I finally got home from my nightshift.

Small enough to fit through the letterbox, I found it on the floor behind the doors. It was an ordinary parcel, the same you would get when you ordered something online, but weird because I ordered nothing. As if I would have any money to waste...

There was no address, or anything I could use to identify, where it came from. Just my name. Naya Bates.

Well, at least I knew, it was really for me. Not that I would bother returning it. Once you threw something through my letterbox, it was mine, the moment it hit the floor.

I took off my shoes and removed my jacket, hanging it on the peg, then fell in to my old trusted couch. The only thing my mom left me...Except the debts.

I tore open the cardboard, almost broke a nail, revealing a small book inside. Coal black and no bigger then an average notebook.

The book had no title on it’s cover, and had a strange set of instructions, written on it’s first page.

Greetings customer. You are holding an exchange book. It was designed for people in financial distress, to provide funds they lack with shorter but improved life.

Please be aware, there is a fee of one year from customers life, for each thousand dollars requested. Once the customer fills in his or her name with requested sum, the transaction will be immediately processed.

All transactions are nonrefundable, and can’t be amended.

Please find detailed terms and conditions on the last page of the book.

It’s page were filled with various names and numbers. A good few hundreds of them at least.

Alright. Someone tried a bit too hard to make this joke believable. Sabine...If it’s you, I’m going to kill you for this.

All names were original, written by different hand. At least it seemed so. Sabine really outdone herself this time. It deserved, I went along with it for once. I had to give her that.

I opened a random blank page and wrote. Naya Bates, $40 000. That would just about solve all my problems, leaving me with something for the future. What was forty years anyway, right?

I dropped the book on the floor, slowly closing my eyes.

No, I couldn’t fall asleep. Not before I ate something, and took a shover at least. Ah...That work is killing me.

Somebody knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” I said, leaping from the couch, wincing as my knees suddenly cracked.

“Miss Bates? I’m here to collect the book, to finish the exchange.”

What in the hell...”You know, every good joke has a limit,” I said, walking towards the door.”

A middle aged man in a grey coat stood behind it. He was tall and slender, had a long face and a dark brown hair. He carried a small black case, smiling widely with enthusiastic expression.

“Good morning, miss Bates,” He said, extending his hand. “Although I guess, it’s an evening for you, considering your working schedule. You can call me a Dealer.”

I stared at him for a moment, my mouth opened.

“Can I...come in?”

“Alright,” I said, stepping away. “You wan’t go through with this? Be my guest.”

“Thank you, miss Bates.”

“I just hope, whatever they promised you for this, is worth it,” I said, closing door, but remained standing, leaning my back against it.

“Don’t worry about me. My kind are very well compensated,” he said, sitting on the couch, holding the black case on his lap. “Oh, here’s the book. We won’t be needing it anymore.” He picked it up and hid it inside of his coat.

“So...Go on,” I said.

“At first, I have to disappoint you a bit. It appears, forty thousand was a request, you couldn’t afford.”

I giggled. “You are saying, I don’t have forty years left?”

“Sadly you didn’t,” he said, opening the case revealing it’s content. It was full of green banknotes. “But according to the terms and conditions, we were able to provide you with exactly twenty thousand dollars, leaving you with one whole year to enjoy them.”

“Wait a second. How did you even know, I asked for forty?”

“Didn’t you read the instructions?” He said, putting the still opened case aside. “People almost always skip the details in the back, but usually read the front. We know, right after you write down your order.”

“Ok, this too creepy,” I said, wanting open the door. “Tell Sabine, she pushed it a bit too far this time.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You think this is some kind of a sick joke, miss Bates? Maybe you should go, and look in to the mirror.”

Mirror? What was that supposed to mean? I rubbed my hands. They felt dry. I ran in to my small bathroom, turned on the light, then yelped.

The reflection in the mirror was me, but older. Not exactly old. My face had a few more wrinkles, and was a little bit paler then it should. I could still recognise myself, but it was like I suddenly grew...twenty years older.

No. This was a joke...a really bad joke. It must have been. Things like that don’t exist. People just don’t walk in to your home, and make you older!

What did he do to me?

I stormed back in to the room, grabbing a dirty kitchen knife from the sink, pointing it at him. “Take it back! Give me back my years, or whatever you did to me, keep your money and leave!”

“Please, miss Bates,” he said. “Put that thing down. I assure, I’m immune to any physical harm, you could inflict on me. And I’m afraid, once the years are taken away, they can’t be simply transferred back.”

A cold shiver pierced my spine, and I dropped the knife, as my hands starter to tremble. Was I actually going to die in one year?

“No...Please. Just take a half.” I said, tears slowly pouring from my eyes. “You can have ten years for ten thousand. That’s fair enough...right?”

He sighed, standing up. “Transactions can’t be either refunded or amended.”

I bursed in to a cry, no longer able to contain it. “I don’t wan’t to die.”

He pulled out a different book from inside of his coat. Blue and little thicker then the first one. “Naya Bates. Currently twenty five years old.” He said, turning the pages. “Here you are. The death is supposed to occur in the age of forty six. Shortly after she managed to pay of all of the depts, her mother left her.” He closed the book. “I will spare you the details, but your life wouldn’t be a happy one. You were supposed to be slaving for twenty one more years, sleeping in this dirty place, then die anyway. That’s why we chose you. Now you have less time, but enough funds to do whatever you want with it. Aren’t you happy?”

“I’m going to die.”

“Everybody dies, miss Bates. What matters, is how we spend the time we have. You will eventually come in terms with your fate. Everybody does.”

He walked towards the door, then turned and smiled. “It was pleasure doing business with you, miss Bates.”

I remained crying for a while, the open case full of money staring back at me. And I couldn’t sleep that night.

He was right though. I accepted my fate eventually. After a few months of trying to find out, who that person really was. But how do you even search for people, who come in to your house and make you older, leaving a case filled with money in return? I realised, I was simply wasting the precious little time, I had left.

So I enjoyed it, as my mother said. How exactly? That’s non of anyones business. But I certainly didn’t pay off any debts.

They are free to send me a notice in to the afterlife.