He leaned back in the chair. Looked towards the front entrance. Then took a bite of the apple pie that he had ordered.
“Roger” he heard someone call out behind him. “Roger is that you?” He turned slowly, his leather coat creaking as he spotted the man with his right eye only.
“I knew it, that is you, glad to see you”
With out acknowledgement, Roger, turned just as slowly as he looked back to his pie.
He heard the chair move away form the table and hard heeled shoes approach.
The man appeared in his vision, took a seat, and then waved the waitress over.
Roger gave a visible sigh. “Simon” he took a sip of coffee “How are you these days?”
The man rolled his eyes and crosed his legs leaning against the back of the chair and chewing on his lip.
“To be honest Rog, not that good. It’s a whole bloody mess out there. Just crazy. I thought I had things figured out, but alas, it gets all topsy turvy when I step into it. I mean the last bloke that I ran into couldn’t even tell me the time. Imagine that!”
The rain outside was picking up. The restaurant had windows, but they were thin and the walls were covered in dark wood. It made the interior feel enclosed, warm and in its own pocket of the world. The rain added a layer, its heavy drops thumping onto the roof filling the whole place with a thick layer of noise. Art deco to its core, green light covers that barely illuminated anything, but kept a cool atmosphere for the patrons. The bar was a mix of a diner and high class joint and the tables were simple and modest, with a bit of elegant charm thrown in at the legs and silverware. It was a fine place to hide.
“Yes, I agree” Roger said dryly. His pie was almost finished. The waitress came over.
“Ya, coffee, and a slice of pie, we will share, two forks. Thanks” Simon smiled at the waitress as she shimmied off. “Fine one, huh”
Roger had had enough. He finished his last piece of pie , wiped his mouth and sat back with his arms crossed.
“Simon”
“Yeah, Rog”
“Look at me, not the waitress, what do you want?”
Simon licked his lips. “Well you know Rog, we have a job to do, not a nice one either. I just wanted to get your advice, that’s all”
“Our job is to reap, so reap, what is so hard about that?” Roger uncrossed his arms, and produced a pocket watch which he flicked open. He stared mesmerized by it for a moment then eyed Simon. “I see”
Simon let out a heavy sigh and nodded “You see”
There was a quiet resignation to Roger, he clasped the pocket watch shut in one sharp motion and put it on the table. “How long?”
“A minute at most. What about when it’s my time Rog, I don’t want to” the words caught in his throat “die”
Roger let out a laugh, one from younger days, much younger.
“Simon, we all must be reaped one day, even the reapers” He coughed “You couldn’t have just shot me, huh?” His voice grew hoarse and he clasped his chest with a smile. How many had he seen just like him now. Gasping for air, heart pumping its last beats, but his, not a heat, a special kind of spirit. Returning to its creator. What a beautiful life he had lived. Eons, the highs and lows, it all span in a memory of light, blazing past every sense that he had. Human and otherwise.
“Till the next time” Roger breathed his last breath and then his head hit the table hard, arms falling to his side.
Simon sat for along while, the waitress screaming in the background, customers standing to find out what had happened.
“Yes, my friend, till next time” Simon stood up trembling.
Simon had become a reaper of reapers.
There is a scene in Supernatural that I absolutely love and that is when death is introduced in this diner. It is storming outside and everyone on the inside is dead and he is just eating a piece of pie when Dean confronts him. I based it partly on that. Death can’t be everywhere? Maybe it can? Or maybe it needs a little bit of help. But all things come to an end. All things…die.
Keep living my friends, till the very end