Am I too Early

Am I too Early

 

Chilly bitter winds blow into the upper regions of Harvey’s most sensitive areas, he really should think about investing in some new warm clothing. The scary sweeping black cloak that had once upon a time sent crippling agonising fear into Harvey’s unlucky clients had now started to wear thin, with the cloak having numerous little rips from getting caught on small little catches and dips, loose nails and sometimes even getting caught up in peoples narrow chimneys. His job was meant to be quick and easy, sweep in, suck the remaining life out, destroy any lasting fight or hope that person might have of remaining upon this merry go round that one would call life. Then with them in tow float or glide away through windows, doors, or walls like they were made of tissue paper. Harvey prided himself upon being able to do such talents the fact that being a supernatural entirety and being able to pass through solid objects anyway never seemed to register with big headed Harvey, everyone has an ego after all and being Death, Harvey had the biggest one going.

 

Through the cleverly patterned glass of the small cosy wooden cottage that he is now hovering outside of, Harvey catches the sight of a sweet and friendly looking old woman sat in her armchair knitting, a half eaten slice of fruitcake is placed upon a small coffee table next to her. Harvey lifts his bony arm making sure to activate the glowing shine of his luminous wrist watch with his other hand. 2.30pm he was a bit early, sweet old Doris Jenkins wasn’t scheduled a visit from Harvey until 2.45pm or so Harvey’s diary claimed. It was a Tuesday, good he had the right day and time, he was glad about that having checked and double checked and then even gone back to triple check. Harvey wasn’t often nervous when it came to collecting his souls, the only time it seemed to happen was at the start of a new diary.

 

Sweet Doris sits in her flowered patterned armchair glancing carefully over the top of the rim of her carefully perched specs trying to thread her needle slowly and with a great deal of caution  through the woolly Angry Birds jumper for her grandson. Yes, young Todd would be very pleased with this she thinks smiling, even through unknown to Doris herself, that what she has knitted looks like a giant cow with wings, with the only clue for Todd to realise that it is meant to be anything angry birds related is the fact that Doris has threaded the words Angry Birds into the jumper.

 

Doris quickly glances up at the TV as a contestant answers a question correctly. Oh the sheer noise from the cheering audience has Doris’s eardrums feel like they are doing somersaults. Grabbing at her walking stick she points it in the direction of her old fashioned TV set, her stick hovers shakily in midair for what seems to be an age as her old unsteady arm waves up and down. Sighing, Doris starts to think it may just be easier to phone Jim up from next door he could come and turn the volume down for her. He could even stop for a piece of fruitcake if he wanted too or even finish hers off, for her having bits of currents wedged in between her false teeth was driving her batty. But knowing her luck Jim was probably in the middle of his afternoon nap.

 

Wisps of leaves blow across Doris’s front lawn belting Harvey in his bony face upon this very dull cold and darkening Tuesday afternoon of January, the ripples of the wind send chills to his bones. As Harvey watches Doris put her walking stick down and reach for her fruitcake, he thinks maybe she will choke on it, maybe that was when he was meant to visit her, to guide her across into the folds of another realm. Harvey’s shadowy form starts to take shape over the cosy little cottage. The cake feels moist as it starts to slide down her throat and then a tiny bit dry, Doris thinks that some not so nice cold tea would help it on its way down, pours some into her mouth.

 

Doris starts to choke almost instantly, God damn tea had managed to work its way down the wrong pipe and……………..

 

“Doris oh Doris my sweetness, are you struggling to breathe?”

 

Doris glares up at the shadowy figure that has quite rudely stationed himself in the middle of her sitting room without even being invited inside.

 

“I think you would have the same problem breathing Mister, I would have you know I’m choking!”

 

“Don’t worry dearly it won’t be long now, soon you will be at peace and………….”

 

“PAT ME ON MY BACK, DO YOU KNOW THE HEIMLICH MANOEUVRE?”

Harvey couldn’t deny he is somewhat taken aback by this request, he had never been asked to save a life before.

 

“No I don’t but…..”

“GET AROUND THE BACK OF ME, GRAB HOLD OF ME AROUND MY STOMACH AND YANK HARD!”

 

And before he knew anything else Harvey, the most fearful grim reaper, was grabbing hold of Doris feeling unable to watch her suffer anymore and there was the tiny fact that her demanding voice was able to somewhat scare him witless.

 

Harvey watches as the piece of cake which had been blocking Doris’s windpipe soars through the air. Its flight comes to abrupt end when it spatters into Doris’s patterned glassed front window.

 

Grasping at the armrest of her armchair Doris staggers, catching big deep breaths of air, she collapses into the seat.

 

“Go fetch us a nice cup of tea will you, I need to calm my nerves, crikey me I thought that fruitcake was going to be the death of me.”

 

Harvey for the time being ignores her request and sweeps around to the front of her, but instead of being frightened of the dark shadow he casts Doris only glares at him.

 

“What are you some kind of pervert, trying to sneak a glance down my blouse are you?”

 

“No I’m being gothic and masterful, I………” The sharp pain from Doris’s walking stick bonking him on his bony skull knocks Harvey for six.

 

“I will give you masterful in a minute, now go fetch my tea,” Doris says sternly pointing Harvey to her kitchen with her finger. Harvey who is feeling rather sheepish and rubbing at his pained head sweeps in the pointed direction.

 

“Who are you anyway, I have paid my taxes you know. Have you come for the TV License because if you have you can tell them its not worth the money.  All they put on is rubbish, everyone wears wigs nobody has proper hair anymore and……”

 

Harvey comes sweeping out of the kitchen with a steaming cup of tea and for some reason a biscuit for good measure, something about this woman makes him feel on edge.

 

“No you are to come with me……”

 

“Oh where are we going? You aren’t a doctor are you because I don’t want you sticking your needles in me. I’m healthy. Had my last check up, oh I don’t remember when but…….”

 

The anger inside Harvey is now reaching boiling point he had wanted to be nice and kind and make this experience less stressful for her, but sweet little Doris was proving to be somewhat of a handful, he was going to have to use his monster voice. Harvey arose above her, his eyes glowing red his grin showing every one of his rotting teeth and then he just let rip and boomed his masterful voice down at her causing her sheer white hair to flap backwards quite violently.

 

“MISS DORIS JENKINS YOU ARE TO DIE ON THIS TUESDAY JANUARY THE 14TH 2015 AT 245.PM. NOW COME WITH ME NOW I AM DEATH.”

 

Harvey can see Doris holding her hand up in midair as if to say halt right there.

 

“Can I just stop you right there Mr Death as you so call yourself.”

Harvey sighs

“So it is a Tuesday and it is the 14th of January and it isn’t 2.45pm, it is now 3pm.”

Harvey looks to his digital watch.

 

“Well it is now yes, you have kept me talking and……”

 

“It isn’t 2015 which means you’re not very clever because it is 2014 so………”

 

Harvey uncovers his diary from the dark corners of his cloak and peers down to find he had indeed got the wrong year.

 

“Oh dam sorry I can only say…………”

 

“NOW OUT, YOU’RE RUINING THE END OF COUNTDOWN FOR ME!”

 

Harvey sweeps up to the ceiling and bangs his head on the lightshade.

 

“OH FOR PITYS SAKE USE THE FRONT DOOR!” Doris yells.

 

Harvey bows his head in shame before going to the front door, taking one peering glance back he waves.

 

“See you same time next year then Doris.”

“SHUSH THEY’RE JUST ABOUT TO START DICTIONARY CORNER.”

 

 

One year on and Harvey is suffering from forgetfulness and has forgotten to collect Doris’s soul, meaning that she will get to live her life until the day Harvey remembers, which could mean it could be in a day, a week, a year, depending on what diary he is using at the time.

 

The End