Dizzy Up the Girl (3/13)
Chapter 3: January Friend
Don't cry out loud
You've gotta bear your cross but never dream too loud
~Goo Goo Dolls
The days following ‘the fiasco’, as I’ve come to call it to myself, could be characterized as quiet and normal - in Reaper terms. Mason didn’t make me feel guilty about my lack of feelings, and he didn’t even give off any suspicious vibe that Rube, Daisy or Roxy could latch on to. It was something that just might stay between us. I guess I like thinking that a secret could actually stay between two people.
So now it’s been four days, and he’s no longer outright staring at me, although I catch him glancing at me when he thinks I’m not really paying attention. It’s an improvement. He’s not following me to work anymore, although he still takes me out to lunch. I’m not gonna complain about a free lunch, even though he’s probably still trying to win my affections. I shouldn’t use him like this; I feel too much like Daisy. But maybe he’s just doing it to mend our friendship. He needs a real friend, as do I.
I don’t get a chance to even sit down in Der Waffle Hause before Rube’s handing me a post-it. ETD: 8:25. I’ve got twenty minutes to get to the hospital and find my guy.
“I hate you.” I give him a nice long glare in return for the early morning reap.
“Hey, peanut, I’ve told you before that this is not my fault,” he replies, holding up a hand in defense while the other forks a piece of waffle.
I turn around and walk out, deciding to risk the coffee at work after my reap.
~
Hospitals don’t really bother me like they do other people. I never had a parent or grandparent that had to stay in one that would leave a childhood memory of the sterile smell or of death. I’ve been to Saint Mary’s for a few reaps, and the numbers on this post-it tell me I’m probably going to the surgical wing. Great - complications due to surgery.
I’m in a rush to find M. Bonefay and get to work, so I don’t notice the Reaper following me until I’m leaving the woman’s room. Poor girl. She never should’ve gotten those implants.
The Reaper, a red-head that couldn’t be much older than Daisy, wears the white coat of someone important in the hospital. Honestly, I’ve never taken the time to figure out the difference between all the different uniforms. I know what scrubs are, probably solely because of the show named after them, and doctors in other hospital dramas always wear white lab coats, but I can’t tell if this Reaper’s a doctor, attendee, intern, or scientist - hey, I really don’t know my hospital terminology.
She doesn’t bother introducing herself, just crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a death glare. “Can I help you?”
“Um… You know, doing my job.” Can’t she tell I’m a Reaper, too? I could tell when other people were Reapers on my first day. Maybe I’m just special.
“I know you’re doing your job, but this is my surgery.” My blank stare in response to her complaint seems to have made her even angrier with me. “I have to take her into surgery and cut her open!”
“I’m… sorry. I have to take her before she leaves for surgery, and I guess that’s soon, so here I am.” I hold the post-it up in defense. Angry doctor woman is intimidating, even if she’s no taller than me and has crazy wild red hair. Actually, it’s probably the crazy wild red hair that makes her seem, well, crazy. “I don’t know anything about this, but shouldn’t you be scrubbing in or something?”
She rolls her eyes. “Just because every other show on TV deals with hospitals, everyone thinks they know all about surgeries and medical conditions.”
“No, I know I still know nothing, but if she’s your patient and you’re running the surgery, I thought you might be in there doing something important. She’s supposed to grow a few cups sizes in just a few minutes and all.”
Nameless red-head glances at her watch. “Looks like it’s time for my team to kill her.”
I don’t think I’m supposed to say anything in response. At least, I can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound completely heartless or overly pathetic and sappy. “I guess I’ll get back to my other job now.”
That was thoroughly awkward. Well, with a slight skip in my step, though not actually skipping because my heals would never allow for such a joyous activity, I head off to work knowing I’m not going to have to skip out early for a reap or have to pull some late-night shit like a few weeks ago. It should be a good day.
~
I spend my morning wondering about the unnamed Reaper doctor. She looked so young. I wonder if she wanted to be a doctor when she was alive and had started studying medicine before her death. I shouldn’t be thinking that much into it, but what if she picked it up after she became a Reaper? She could’ve gone to college post-mortem. It’s not like I’m inspired by her unknown feat, but what if she spent her first few years as a Reaper as a temp like me?
If I had stayed in college, I would’ve probably majored in history. My dad encouraged it, because getting a history degree normally turns the recipient into a teacher, or a professor. I could follow in his shoes.
Maybe I should go back to college. It’d give me something to focus on. Some constantly changing challenge ending with a degree in something that I’ll probably never even use. If I’m just going to be a temp with a degree, then I don’t see a reason to pay for a piece of paper. I could study something interesting, like psychology or sociology. Hey, I’m always watching people anyway. Why not know what I see in them? Betty was like a mini sociologist with her grouping of people and being able to tell which group they were in just by looking at them.
My lunch hour came around much faster than I expected. Apparently time flies when you’re not focusing on work. Like normal, as soon as I walk out of the skyscraper’s lobby doors, Mason appears beside me, hands in his pockets and winter clothing that makes him look like a slightly metro hobo.
I bring up the thought of going back to college over sub sandwiches. That’s an understatement; I test the idea with Mason to judge if I should bring up the subject with Rube. Mason reacts with a surprised look and tries talking through the food in his mouth, but my disgusted response makes him stop and finish chewing before continuing. “Wha’ in the world would make you want to waste money like that? Better yet, why the sudden desire to go back to school?”
“It’s not a desire, just an idea. I’m going to be undead for a while, and I figure I should probably do something to get a better job. I have pretty shitty skills, and I don’t want to be a temp for the rest of my un-life.”
He gives me a head tilt, then a nod of understanding with a shrug. “I suppose it’s not that strange.”
“Going to college is strange?”
“No. But you’re a Reaper. It’s not like you can major in ‘Clue’ to make your real job easier.” I like when he mentions old memories. It’s like we’re best friends, or old friends. Either way, I have a friend.
“No, but I could do something that could help me get a job with more flexibility. Something that I actually enjoy.”
He does the thing where he points his food at me to emphasize his point. “There is seriously nothing I can see you studying.” I glare back at him as he takes another bite of his sandwich. “I mean, sure you’d probably be really good with all that useless knowledge that History majors cram into their heads. And you’d probably be a decent anthropologist. But what would you do with that, huh? I see college as a waste of four years of your life. No employer really gives half a shit about what you studied, just so long that you studied something in some place that gives out rewards for staying the four, five, six years that it takes.”
Hopefully Rube won’t be this bitter about universities and colleges.
“Well, Mason, I want to make the most of the extra time I’ve got. I’m gonna be here a while, and I don’t want to work at Happy Time for most of it. Besides, there are lots of cute guys at college. Maybe I’ll find a boyfriend in the history department.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t go all quiet and withdrawn as I expected by my pretty mean jab. He takes another bite of his sandwich and smiles. “Relationships with the living are hard. Especially long term ones. They age, you don’t. They normally want kids, no Reaper has successfully bred; they die, you’re already dead. But maybe you’ll reap the guy you’re dating!”
Mason has never been bitchy. Not once since I met him has he been a snotty little bitch. Except for now. I shouldn’t be so freaked out; he’s been acting strange for the past few weeks. That whole crying thing when I turned him down, the quazi-stalking he’s been doing with me, and he doesn’t smell like alcohol anymore. He could be sobering up. Maybe he’s changing, going through some Reaper mid-life crisis. That’d make sense. He’s been a Reaper for over forty years.
He should just steal a sports car and stop trying to ruin my unlife.
I’ve been silent a while, and I think he gets that he pissed me off. Since I was trying to make him mad, he probably feels justified. But I’m not going to talk to him about my short-term future anymore. Lesson learned. He really is a big brother - putting me down and making me feel like shit. Good job, Mason.
He tries apologizing, maybe realizing that his words hurt more than he intended. “George, I’m sorry. You don’t really have a variety of guys throwing themselves at you of the undead variety, and there’s nothing wrong with dating the living. It’s a whole load of bullshit when Rube tells you otherwise. I shouldn’t’ve said that at all. The chances of you reaping your boyfriend are terribly low.”
“I gotta get back to work.”
I only finished half of my sandwich, and he almost reaches for it to finish it off before he realizes that I’m leaving angry at him. When he hurries to my side, the sandwich is in a bag. “George, wait up. I didn’t mean to make you mad. You pushed my button, so I pushed back.”
“Whatever, Mason.” I try ignoring him as I walk back to work, but he’s on my heels and trying to explain himself. Something about how he just can’t stand the idea of me with another guy, how he still likes me, and I think he mentioned something about having his first period, but I could’ve added that as an explanation for his recent craziness.
He finally grabs me before I walk into my building, pulling on my elbow and getting in front of me. “George, please listen to me. Please.”
I hate that our dramatic moments happen during my lunch hour. They make the rest of my day move so slowly.
“What.” Not really a question, because I don’t really want to listen. I want to go inside where it’s warm and I can take off this silly hat and scarf that Rube got me for Christmas.
A perplexed look crosses his face, and I think he doesn’t know what to say. Yup, he doesn’t know what to say. “I’m… I’m sorry. You should go to college. You’re smart. You’d fit in, and you’d probably love it the second time around.”
“I’ll see you later, Mason.”
I leave him with the leftovers of my sandwich out in the January cold.
~
I bring up the subject of going back to college with Rube a few days later at breakfast. He was eating his extra extra crispy bacon, looking pretty indifferent, and the others in the group were there as backup. I’d talked to them all about it individually, so I know they’d have my backs if Rube’s against it.
“So, I’ve been doing some thinking about what I want to do with my life, now that I’ve settled into the Reaping thing and don’t act up anymore.” He puts the piece of bacon down and looks up from his plate with his scary face. “And I think I want to go back to college part-time to try and do something that I like with my non-Reaping time.” Wow, I said that last part pretty fast.
Everyone else at the table is holding their breath, and they’re just as surprised as I am when he smiles and picks back up the bacon. “I think that’s a great idea, peanut.” He chomps down on the food and finishes it before surprising us all even more. “You need help paying for it? I don’t think there are Reaper scholarships available, but I’m sure I could look into it for ya.”
Daisy, Mason, Roxy and I are all pretty stunned. We all expected the worst - yelling, anger, and the like. Granted, Rube and I have nearly always been at one another’s throats, so I didn’t expect him to agree to me wanting to spend even more time away from Reaping, but offering money?
“I have a little bit of money saved up over the past few years. I think I’ll just go to a community college. I don’t have test scores to help with scholarships, though.” Everyone gives me a weird look. “Test scores? ACT? SAT? Standardized tests that determine in four hours how intelligent you are?” None of them had to deal with the stressful and oppressive tests to get into college. Rube and Daisy are way too old, Mason found drugs to be more satisfying than an education, and Roxy was a dancer, not a scholar. “Never mind. I probably don’t even need them to get into a community college.”
“Well I think you going back to college is a great idea. You’re a smart girl and you should be in an environment where that intelligence can be nurtured and grown.”
“Rube, you’re really freaking me the fuck out.” Seriously, he’s acting all father-like. “But thanks.” I smile to show I appreciate his thoughtfulness. It’s really sweet of him to offer to pay, or find funding, for college.
“I think it’s a great idea for Georgia to go to college and get a degree. Now, I haven’t the slightest idea as to why anyone would pay to be bored to death, but I’m sure there are plenty of interesting and handsome men on college campuses now-a-days.” Trademark Daisy.
Mason shifts beside me, and it’s his way of telling me he doesn’t like the idea of me dating someone else. Yeah, I can read that much into his little movements. Not because I’m attuned to him, but because I’ve been defending my interest in the living for the past two days.
Maybe he really does like me. It’d be nice to think that I’ve found a guy who really cares and who could love me. It’d be nice to think that the first cute guy I met after I died could be the person I’m meant to be with for the rest of my afterlife. It’d be nice to feel safe and secure.
But it’s all a fantasy. I never believed in soul mates and I don’t think I’ll ever believe true love can exist. Real life, whether while alive or dead, has just screwed me too much too often for me to still believe in fairy tales like that.
So I drink my coffee and listen to the others talk about their beliefs on college and education, hear their thoughts on what I could major in, and log in quality hours with friends.
Don't cry out loud
You've gotta bear your cross but never dream too loud
~Goo Goo Dolls
The days following ‘the fiasco’, as I’ve come to call it to myself, could be characterized as quiet and normal - in Reaper terms. Mason didn’t make me feel guilty about my lack of feelings, and he didn’t even give off any suspicious vibe that Rube, Daisy or Roxy could latch on to. It was something that just might stay between us. I guess I like thinking that a secret could actually stay between two people.
So now it’s been four days, and he’s no longer outright staring at me, although I catch him glancing at me when he thinks I’m not really paying attention. It’s an improvement. He’s not following me to work anymore, although he still takes me out to lunch. I’m not gonna complain about a free lunch, even though he’s probably still trying to win my affections. I shouldn’t use him like this; I feel too much like Daisy. But maybe he’s just doing it to mend our friendship. He needs a real friend, as do I.
I don’t get a chance to even sit down in Der Waffle Hause before Rube’s handing me a post-it. ETD: 8:25. I’ve got twenty minutes to get to the hospital and find my guy.
“I hate you.” I give him a nice long glare in return for the early morning reap.
“Hey, peanut, I’ve told you before that this is not my fault,” he replies, holding up a hand in defense while the other forks a piece of waffle.
I turn around and walk out, deciding to risk the coffee at work after my reap.
~
Hospitals don’t really bother me like they do other people. I never had a parent or grandparent that had to stay in one that would leave a childhood memory of the sterile smell or of death. I’ve been to Saint Mary’s for a few reaps, and the numbers on this post-it tell me I’m probably going to the surgical wing. Great - complications due to surgery.
I’m in a rush to find M. Bonefay and get to work, so I don’t notice the Reaper following me until I’m leaving the woman’s room. Poor girl. She never should’ve gotten those implants.
The Reaper, a red-head that couldn’t be much older than Daisy, wears the white coat of someone important in the hospital. Honestly, I’ve never taken the time to figure out the difference between all the different uniforms. I know what scrubs are, probably solely because of the show named after them, and doctors in other hospital dramas always wear white lab coats, but I can’t tell if this Reaper’s a doctor, attendee, intern, or scientist - hey, I really don’t know my hospital terminology.
She doesn’t bother introducing herself, just crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a death glare. “Can I help you?”
“Um… You know, doing my job.” Can’t she tell I’m a Reaper, too? I could tell when other people were Reapers on my first day. Maybe I’m just special.
“I know you’re doing your job, but this is my surgery.” My blank stare in response to her complaint seems to have made her even angrier with me. “I have to take her into surgery and cut her open!”
“I’m… sorry. I have to take her before she leaves for surgery, and I guess that’s soon, so here I am.” I hold the post-it up in defense. Angry doctor woman is intimidating, even if she’s no taller than me and has crazy wild red hair. Actually, it’s probably the crazy wild red hair that makes her seem, well, crazy. “I don’t know anything about this, but shouldn’t you be scrubbing in or something?”
She rolls her eyes. “Just because every other show on TV deals with hospitals, everyone thinks they know all about surgeries and medical conditions.”
“No, I know I still know nothing, but if she’s your patient and you’re running the surgery, I thought you might be in there doing something important. She’s supposed to grow a few cups sizes in just a few minutes and all.”
Nameless red-head glances at her watch. “Looks like it’s time for my team to kill her.”
I don’t think I’m supposed to say anything in response. At least, I can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound completely heartless or overly pathetic and sappy. “I guess I’ll get back to my other job now.”
That was thoroughly awkward. Well, with a slight skip in my step, though not actually skipping because my heals would never allow for such a joyous activity, I head off to work knowing I’m not going to have to skip out early for a reap or have to pull some late-night shit like a few weeks ago. It should be a good day.
~
I spend my morning wondering about the unnamed Reaper doctor. She looked so young. I wonder if she wanted to be a doctor when she was alive and had started studying medicine before her death. I shouldn’t be thinking that much into it, but what if she picked it up after she became a Reaper? She could’ve gone to college post-mortem. It’s not like I’m inspired by her unknown feat, but what if she spent her first few years as a Reaper as a temp like me?
If I had stayed in college, I would’ve probably majored in history. My dad encouraged it, because getting a history degree normally turns the recipient into a teacher, or a professor. I could follow in his shoes.
Maybe I should go back to college. It’d give me something to focus on. Some constantly changing challenge ending with a degree in something that I’ll probably never even use. If I’m just going to be a temp with a degree, then I don’t see a reason to pay for a piece of paper. I could study something interesting, like psychology or sociology. Hey, I’m always watching people anyway. Why not know what I see in them? Betty was like a mini sociologist with her grouping of people and being able to tell which group they were in just by looking at them.
My lunch hour came around much faster than I expected. Apparently time flies when you’re not focusing on work. Like normal, as soon as I walk out of the skyscraper’s lobby doors, Mason appears beside me, hands in his pockets and winter clothing that makes him look like a slightly metro hobo.
I bring up the thought of going back to college over sub sandwiches. That’s an understatement; I test the idea with Mason to judge if I should bring up the subject with Rube. Mason reacts with a surprised look and tries talking through the food in his mouth, but my disgusted response makes him stop and finish chewing before continuing. “Wha’ in the world would make you want to waste money like that? Better yet, why the sudden desire to go back to school?”
“It’s not a desire, just an idea. I’m going to be undead for a while, and I figure I should probably do something to get a better job. I have pretty shitty skills, and I don’t want to be a temp for the rest of my un-life.”
He gives me a head tilt, then a nod of understanding with a shrug. “I suppose it’s not that strange.”
“Going to college is strange?”
“No. But you’re a Reaper. It’s not like you can major in ‘Clue’ to make your real job easier.” I like when he mentions old memories. It’s like we’re best friends, or old friends. Either way, I have a friend.
“No, but I could do something that could help me get a job with more flexibility. Something that I actually enjoy.”
He does the thing where he points his food at me to emphasize his point. “There is seriously nothing I can see you studying.” I glare back at him as he takes another bite of his sandwich. “I mean, sure you’d probably be really good with all that useless knowledge that History majors cram into their heads. And you’d probably be a decent anthropologist. But what would you do with that, huh? I see college as a waste of four years of your life. No employer really gives half a shit about what you studied, just so long that you studied something in some place that gives out rewards for staying the four, five, six years that it takes.”
Hopefully Rube won’t be this bitter about universities and colleges.
“Well, Mason, I want to make the most of the extra time I’ve got. I’m gonna be here a while, and I don’t want to work at Happy Time for most of it. Besides, there are lots of cute guys at college. Maybe I’ll find a boyfriend in the history department.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t go all quiet and withdrawn as I expected by my pretty mean jab. He takes another bite of his sandwich and smiles. “Relationships with the living are hard. Especially long term ones. They age, you don’t. They normally want kids, no Reaper has successfully bred; they die, you’re already dead. But maybe you’ll reap the guy you’re dating!”
Mason has never been bitchy. Not once since I met him has he been a snotty little bitch. Except for now. I shouldn’t be so freaked out; he’s been acting strange for the past few weeks. That whole crying thing when I turned him down, the quazi-stalking he’s been doing with me, and he doesn’t smell like alcohol anymore. He could be sobering up. Maybe he’s changing, going through some Reaper mid-life crisis. That’d make sense. He’s been a Reaper for over forty years.
He should just steal a sports car and stop trying to ruin my unlife.
I’ve been silent a while, and I think he gets that he pissed me off. Since I was trying to make him mad, he probably feels justified. But I’m not going to talk to him about my short-term future anymore. Lesson learned. He really is a big brother - putting me down and making me feel like shit. Good job, Mason.
He tries apologizing, maybe realizing that his words hurt more than he intended. “George, I’m sorry. You don’t really have a variety of guys throwing themselves at you of the undead variety, and there’s nothing wrong with dating the living. It’s a whole load of bullshit when Rube tells you otherwise. I shouldn’t’ve said that at all. The chances of you reaping your boyfriend are terribly low.”
“I gotta get back to work.”
I only finished half of my sandwich, and he almost reaches for it to finish it off before he realizes that I’m leaving angry at him. When he hurries to my side, the sandwich is in a bag. “George, wait up. I didn’t mean to make you mad. You pushed my button, so I pushed back.”
“Whatever, Mason.” I try ignoring him as I walk back to work, but he’s on my heels and trying to explain himself. Something about how he just can’t stand the idea of me with another guy, how he still likes me, and I think he mentioned something about having his first period, but I could’ve added that as an explanation for his recent craziness.
He finally grabs me before I walk into my building, pulling on my elbow and getting in front of me. “George, please listen to me. Please.”
I hate that our dramatic moments happen during my lunch hour. They make the rest of my day move so slowly.
“What.” Not really a question, because I don’t really want to listen. I want to go inside where it’s warm and I can take off this silly hat and scarf that Rube got me for Christmas.
A perplexed look crosses his face, and I think he doesn’t know what to say. Yup, he doesn’t know what to say. “I’m… I’m sorry. You should go to college. You’re smart. You’d fit in, and you’d probably love it the second time around.”
“I’ll see you later, Mason.”
I leave him with the leftovers of my sandwich out in the January cold.
~
I bring up the subject of going back to college with Rube a few days later at breakfast. He was eating his extra extra crispy bacon, looking pretty indifferent, and the others in the group were there as backup. I’d talked to them all about it individually, so I know they’d have my backs if Rube’s against it.
“So, I’ve been doing some thinking about what I want to do with my life, now that I’ve settled into the Reaping thing and don’t act up anymore.” He puts the piece of bacon down and looks up from his plate with his scary face. “And I think I want to go back to college part-time to try and do something that I like with my non-Reaping time.” Wow, I said that last part pretty fast.
Everyone else at the table is holding their breath, and they’re just as surprised as I am when he smiles and picks back up the bacon. “I think that’s a great idea, peanut.” He chomps down on the food and finishes it before surprising us all even more. “You need help paying for it? I don’t think there are Reaper scholarships available, but I’m sure I could look into it for ya.”
Daisy, Mason, Roxy and I are all pretty stunned. We all expected the worst - yelling, anger, and the like. Granted, Rube and I have nearly always been at one another’s throats, so I didn’t expect him to agree to me wanting to spend even more time away from Reaping, but offering money?
“I have a little bit of money saved up over the past few years. I think I’ll just go to a community college. I don’t have test scores to help with scholarships, though.” Everyone gives me a weird look. “Test scores? ACT? SAT? Standardized tests that determine in four hours how intelligent you are?” None of them had to deal with the stressful and oppressive tests to get into college. Rube and Daisy are way too old, Mason found drugs to be more satisfying than an education, and Roxy was a dancer, not a scholar. “Never mind. I probably don’t even need them to get into a community college.”
“Well I think you going back to college is a great idea. You’re a smart girl and you should be in an environment where that intelligence can be nurtured and grown.”
“Rube, you’re really freaking me the fuck out.” Seriously, he’s acting all father-like. “But thanks.” I smile to show I appreciate his thoughtfulness. It’s really sweet of him to offer to pay, or find funding, for college.
“I think it’s a great idea for Georgia to go to college and get a degree. Now, I haven’t the slightest idea as to why anyone would pay to be bored to death, but I’m sure there are plenty of interesting and handsome men on college campuses now-a-days.” Trademark Daisy.
Mason shifts beside me, and it’s his way of telling me he doesn’t like the idea of me dating someone else. Yeah, I can read that much into his little movements. Not because I’m attuned to him, but because I’ve been defending my interest in the living for the past two days.
Maybe he really does like me. It’d be nice to think that I’ve found a guy who really cares and who could love me. It’d be nice to think that the first cute guy I met after I died could be the person I’m meant to be with for the rest of my afterlife. It’d be nice to feel safe and secure.
But it’s all a fantasy. I never believed in soul mates and I don’t think I’ll ever believe true love can exist. Real life, whether while alive or dead, has just screwed me too much too often for me to still believe in fairy tales like that.
So I drink my coffee and listen to the others talk about their beliefs on college and education, hear their thoughts on what I could major in, and log in quality hours with friends.