Chapter 29
Corbin
Sebbie was pacing back and forth, and I could feel the stress emanating from him. Crow cooed and ruffled her feathers, and I agreed. We needed to comfort our little reaper.
I sat down on the floor, and I pulled him into my lap.
“It’s okay, little reaper—we’ll figure it out,” I said.
He leaned his head back against me.
“I have no idea how I saved the pregnant lady. In fact, all I can really remember is swinging my scythe and taking her life. But she didn’t die, so I must not have done that.”
We both sat and thought, contemplating the possibilities.
We couldn’t move things here. If we went back to the mortal plane, there would be no time to warn anyone or do anything.
It seemed like we were utterly powerless in this realm, and I understood Sebbie’s frustration and sadness with being here.
But Sebbie wasn’t just a reaper. He was a ferryman and a mortal, as well. I wasn’t sure what his mortal side had to do with anything, but surely his ferryman side…
Like Sebbie’s memories, a movie reel flashed in my head.
The man in black, standing there, the river behind him. I was a hellhound, Crow was there, and Sebbie and the man were talking.
The man in black said, “I’m not sure what the repercussions would be.
I have to admit, you’ve surprised even me as of late.
I would have said that bringing them with you was not possible, but after the woman and child, I’m not sure exactly what you’re capable of.
Perhaps you could transport them there and safely back, or perhaps you could only give them passage there and not bring them back. ”
Sebbie answered, saying, “Yeah, I guess I never brought anyone back before.”
But then the man in black had chuckled. He’d given that little laugh, and he’d said, “Oh, but you have, my old friend. You have. And that should not be within your capabilities. But then, you yourself should not have been within my capabilities.”
“Sebbie,” I said, my mind still far away.
Sebbie turned around to look at me.
“The man in black. He said you could transport people there and back as the ferryman. He said you’d done it. That you shouldn’t be able to, but you had. Do you remember?”
Sebbie looked doubtfully at me. “I remember him saying that, but I don’t remember doing it. Like, not at all. Not even a flash of a memory.”
I was suddenly sure of it. Sebbie needed to be the one to take Paul’s soul, because somehow, he would be able to bring it back.
“You have to reap his soul. You have to take him to the river,” I told him.
Sebbie was shaking his head. “I don’t want to,” he protested.
“Trust me, little reaper. Trust me, and do what you were created to do,” I told him.
I put my hand over his—the one that was holding the scythe. “We can do it together. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
He looked at me, and I thought I saw fear, but also relief and love.
I lifted our hands holding the scythe up above the sheriff. And then Sebbie brought it down, into Sheriff Paul.
I expected… I don’t know. Blood? Gore? I tortured people, after all, and a weapon like that should do a whole lot of damage. What I got instead was light and heat being sucked into the scythe. Then time unfroze, and I watched the man stab the sheriff in the chest.
There was a lot of blood that time.
We were at the river. Sebbie was back in his pink cloak with his pink staff, and the sun was shining. We were at the dock, and I could see ahead into the field. There was only one person there.
Sheriff Paul.
“Hey! Sheriff!” Sebbie called out.
Crow cawed, and the sheriff turned toward us. He walked slowly up to the dock. Crow cawed at him again, and he stared at her. Then he looked at us.
“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here, and I can honestly say I’m sorry about it,” he said heavily.
“Oh, no,” Sebbie said, all cheer. “We’re not dead. I’m a ferryman, and Corbin is a hellhound. And a witch, too, which is how Crow is here.”
The sheriff looked us all over again, and then he said, “But I’m dead. I didn’t survive the stabbing, did I?”
“Nope,” Sebbie answered, and he still sounded pretty damn cheerful.
The sheriff sighed. “I should have waited for back up. I’d heard the rumors about that house, and I knew I was going to find something underneath that baby blanket based on how it looked.
I was going to call for back-up, but I don’t know.
I had this weird feeling that I was being followed for the last few days, and it’s made me…
wary of bringing other people into my sphere. ”
“Ha!” Sebbie said triumphantly. “Toby was right! You mess with the timeline, and you cause the disaster!”
The sheriff only looked confused, and before I could answer, I was a hellhound. Sebbie didn’t seem fazed at all, and he gestured with his staff onto the boat.
“All aboard!” he announced. “Everyone is coming on this trip.”
“Don’t I need to pay a coin or something?” the sheriff asked.
“I don’t know why everyone asks that,” Sebbie said, already leading the way onto the boat. “Whyever would you pay me? The pleasure of your company and chatting with you is payment enough.”
I wasn’t sure what Sebbie had in mind, but I trusted him. Completely and totally, I trusted him. So I followed him onto the boat, and Paul and Crow came on board as well.
Sebbie stood and pushed off into the water with his staff, and we set off, moving swiftly across the water.
Sebbie sat down across from the sheriff. “So, we’ve never really chatted much.”
Paul snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, and I didn’t expect our first heart-to-heart to take place when I was dead.”
“What better time to have a heart-to-heart?” Sebbie asked.
The sheriff nodded, then he looked away. “I haven’t always done the best things. I haven’t always made the best decisions. I suppose I should enjoy this boat ride before I get wherever I’m going.”
Sebbie smiled a little, and then they launched into conversation. They talked about the sheriff’s job, his family, and his friends. Eventually, they came around to the topic of Jude.
“You have to like him at least a little bit, no?” Sebbie asked, a grin on his face.
Paul, weirdly enough, blushed. “I suppose I do. No use lying about it now. But I can’t have him mixed up in all my drama. He’s too lighthearted for someone like me.”
I snorted, because I couldn’t laugh in my hellhound form.
Sebbie straight-up laughed, though, even slapping his knee. “I can assure you that Jude is not as lighthearted as you think. He has plenty of experience with the darker side of life, and I think you two will be a perfect couple. I can’t wait to see it all unfold.”
Paul looked sad at that, looking out across the water, because land was coming into sight. “Yes, well, I suppose it’s too late for that now.”
Sebbie stood up, putting his staff into the water and stopping the boat. “Can you hear them?” he asked the sheriff.
The sheriff looked at him, and then he looked at the shore. “Gram?” he whispered. “Gramp?” He looked back at Sebbie.
“Now is where things get hard,” Sebbie told him.
“They’re waiting for you—all the people you love who have passed.
You’re a good man, no matter what you think.
Death is not an ending; it’s only a new beginning, and that will be a joyful new beginning for you.
You’ll be able to let go of all your regret and all the mistakes you think you’ve made. It will all be wiped clean.
“Yes, you were meant for Jude, but you will be meant for Jude again even if you choose to reach the shoreline. The time that passes may be long before you are reunited, but time means nothing to a reaper or a ferryman.”
Sebbie paused then, looking toward the shore. The sheriff and I were both staring at him, rapt. Was there another option?
“But I’m part mortal, too, and time is valuable.
Each lifetime is important in a way that an afterlifer could never understand.
” He looked back toward Paul. “So I give you the choice. You may return. You may go back to your life and everything that’s there, and you’ll live for a long, long time. Maybe even forever.”
“What’s the catch?” Paul asked.
Sebbie smiled fondly at him. “It won’t be a new start. You’ll have to live with all your perceived mistakes and all the decisions you regret.”
The sheriff looked toward the shore. “Jude would be sad if I died, wouldn’t he? It would hurt him.”
“Yes,” Sebbie answered. “But he would wait for you. He would always wait for you.”
The sheriff looked at Sebbie once again. “What else? Because there has to be more.”
Sebbie sighed. “There is. A soul must be taken. Someone will have to take your place, and it won’t be their time to die.”
Paul opened his mouth, but Sebbie put a hand up.
“It will not be an innocent. You will not have that on your conscience. It will be someone who has nothing but suffering ahead. It’ll be a new beginning for them.
You’ll be giving your fresh start to someone else, so don’t view it as an unfair trade. ”
Sebbie sat down. It seemed he had said his piece. I still had no idea how he would do it, but he seemed confident now.
Paul was thoughtful, looking toward the shore, where apparently loved ones were calling out to him. Then he looked toward us. I don’t know what he saw, but his face took on resolve.
“I’ll go back,” he said.
Sebbie smiled, and suddenly the sun seemed to be blindingly bright. “I look forward to getting to know you better. I think we’ll get along great.”
Paul laughed. “I think we already know each other pretty well,” he joked.
“Oh,” Sebbie said, looking slightly guilty. “I may have forgotten to mention this. You won’t remember any of this. In fact, none of us will.”
With that, Sebbie banged his pink, bejeweled staff against the boat three times, and the sun became so bright that I couldn’t see anything else at all.
I took my arm away from my eyes.
I was human again. The brightness was gone, and we were back in the in-between place that Sebbie went to as a reaper.
I knew it before I even opened my eyes.
There was something a little terrible about it. It was literally devoid of everything. There was no sound, no smell, no taste. Things didn’t even really have a feeling, aside from Sebbie. Even the colors looked a little washed out and muted.
As soon as I took my arm down from covering my face, I looked for Sebbie.
We were back in that house, and Sheriff Paul was still in front of us, only now he was turning in the opposite direction.
I could tell from the placement of things that the knife wouldn’t stab him at all this time—it would miss completely, probably getting stuck in the crib behind him.
Sebbie was looking at the scene, and I reached out and grabbed onto his hand. He turned and smiled at me.
“I thought we wouldn’t remember this,” I said.
“Oh, yeah. I don’t think we will remember.
Although you’ve never been here before, so maybe we will a little bit?
Paul won’t remember anything. I think I won’t remember anything most of the time, either, and that’s okay.
Because now comes the hard part of things.
This is the part I don’t want to remember,” he told me.
“You have to pick someone else.”
“Yes. But it can’t just be anyone. It has to be…
equivalent. I don’t know how else to describe it.
It’s something I’ll know.” Sebbie paused.
“And then there’s the other hard part. The dad and the son—the son wanted to take his dad’s place.
He came willingly. It was still really hard and sad, but he was giving his life so his father could live.
That made it not feel so bad to have to take him.
But with the pregnant mom in the hospital…
Well, the guy I took… He wasn’t willing. ” Sebbie shuddered in memory.
“Was it hard to take an unwilling soul?” I asked.
Sebbie shrugged, and then he huddled into my chest for a hug. I wrapped my arms around him.
“You’re always so warm. How is it that you’re always so warm?” he mumbled.
“Hellhound,” I answered. I wouldn’t be led off topic, though. “Will it hurt you to take an unwilling soul? I don’t want you hurt, little reaper.”
Sebbie sighed. “No. It isn’t technically difficult, and it won’t hurt. It just… it doesn’t feel nice to have to do it. Even if they’re really bad people, I don’t like to take a soul ahead of its time.”
I looked over at the man with the blade. “What about him? Surely he’s hellbound?”
Sebbie sort of shrugged. Then he sighed, tightening his grip on me. I squeezed him tightly and gave him a moment. Eventually, he turned and faced the man.
His black cloak was on, and his scythe was in his hand. He reached forward and… sort of pulled? I don’t know how else to describe it. He pulled, and it was like the man was sort of with us now, but also still not with us.
“He’s rotten. He won’t come willingly. He’ll end up by my river,” Sebbie said sadly.
I went up behind him and put my hands on his shoulders. “And I’ll take care of him there. That’s what I’m here for, little reaper. I’m here to be your hellhound.”
Sebbie nodded his head, but still, he didn’t act.
“Do what must be done, little reaper,” I said, and Sebbie’s scythe sliced downward into the man who was going to try and stab the sheriff.