“Lots of just-born bodies to fill. Looks like you’ve got a feisty group. Watch, this is the fun part.” He clicks a giant button titled “randomize” on my keyboard. A new red dot materializes on the map along with the profile of an older looking woman. “Elenor Audby. Age 65, retired hairdresser. Pessimistic, unsure, talkative, over-compensating in kindness, blah, blah, blah,” he says.
“Why is her dot blinking, an impending heart attack or something?” I place my hand on the mouse so I can hover over her dot and find out.
“We don’t know yet,” Eyebrows says, batting my hand away. “Right now, Elenor is healthy.”
“But her dot is red.”
“At least she’s lived a long and fruitful life of crimping and bleaching,” he assures me, and anyone who may be listening. “Elenor. Oh, Elenor, it’s been decided you will sacrifice your soul for this nameless green dot. Nameless only because it doesn’t matter who you are, green dot, you’re deserving of a soul for the sake of being born.”
“Wait, you’re not going to… kill Elenor, are you?”
“Rules is rules. It’s time to give Elenor the boot from the ole loam.”
“So, that’s what we do here, murder people?”
“No, smartass,” he drones. I say nothing in return, although somewhat thankful I’ve graduated from “new guy” to “smartass” in such a short time. “It’s our job to send the woman packing west. Shuffle her off the mortal coil. Shove her into Davy Jones’ locker. It’s time for a dirt nap, Elenor.”
“I get it!”
“I get it,” Eyebrows echoes.
“Do I really sound like that?”
“Listen, you want a soulless body bag walking around?”
“No, but why can’t we kill someone who is a criminal or something? Someone who deserves it.”
“You want to put a criminal’s soul into a baby’s body?”
“No!”
“Good. And well, that’s not our department’s decision anyway. Hence the monkey clicking,” he says, the contorts his mouth and lets out an oo-oo and ah-ah. When he realizes I’m unamused, he swivels in his… my chair and gets close to my face. “Let me make one thing clear to you. There are only a certain number of souls to go around. Basics. If you start messing with that, things will happen. Things you don’t want to happen. We’re not playing God here. We’re just maintaining an equilibrium.” At that point his neck was so craned from lecturing me, I thought it may twist off.
“Right,” I say, imitating him imitating a monkey.
“Yes, click buttons, you little monkey.” His neck untwists.
“So, like what kind of things do we not want to happen?” My curiosity always gets the better of me.
“Oh, I don’t know…” his neck twists again. “Havoc.”
“Like, Hitler, Stalin, Khan type havoc?”
“Surprisingly, no. That is an example of a ‘bad’ soul brewing with other ‘bad’ souls in a feculent petri dish.”
“Why are you putting ‘bad’ in air quotes and whispering it?”
“It’s complicated.”
Matt1 year ago
This is hilarious! I haven’t laughed this hard while reading in a long time!! Well done Gabby Winoco!!
Chantelle1 year ago
Such an amazing story by an amazing writer!!!