*Shades of Death

Intro: This story started out as something completely different. I was going to have Pete be the main character and do it that way, but this idea seemed more interesting.

Carl didn’t enjoy the walk to school. That wasn’t new. The walk to school was often a run, avoiding the dogs, and bullies, and sometimes the bullies’ dogs. They were the worst.

This morning, Ripper, the Rottweiler caught him in the dark alley behind the drugstore. The teeth sinking into his leg made him scream. Generally speaking, Carl didn’t think men or boys should scream. This was something he often discussed with his friends. Yelling and hollering were fine, but screaming and shrieking should be left to women and girls. Carl screamed. He fell and the rest of the dogs were on him.

“We’ve killed him.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Carl might have enjoyed the ride to the hospital, if he was conscious. He died on the operating table half an hour later. Blood loss.

When Carl woke, I was there to comfort, greet, him.

“What happened?”

“You’re dead. I just have a few questions for you. Truthfulness is key.”

Carl patted himself down. Dead was live to dead but dead to live. It took some explaining. If you were dead you felt alive. If you were alive, you felt alive. If you were dead the live felt dead.

“What is your name?”

“I’m dead?” Carl looked around. The world was faded, but Carl’s body was in the body bag. It was best to get this over with before the family came.

“Yes. That is the situation. Your full name, please.”

“Carl Gordon McFinnigan.” His voice was tremulous and his lip quivered.

“You’re doing well. Three more questions. How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

The body bag was moved to one of the cold lockers. I was in luck.

“Are you dead?” I asked.

Carl stared at me, his brows pulled together. “Am I dead?”

“It is a simple yes or no question.”

If he thought this question was hard, I was in trouble. The last questions always tripped people up. Not a good sign.

“Yes. You told me I was dead.”

Carl showed more promise than anyone gave him credit for. Most of the time people accused him of being slow. In the time that I was shadowing him, I learned he wasn’t slow, but I must have not been paying attention.

“Last question. I have to ask it for formality’s sake. Do you believe what I tell you?”

“You told me I was dead.” Carl said.

“Yes I did.”

“I believe you.” Carl looked around. “But, why can’t I see you? Are you a ghost?”

“No. But I am here to offer you a job. If you don’t want it then you can just proceed to the afterlife.”
“Will I go to heaven?”

“That isn’t for me to decide. Pete takes care of that.”

“St. Peter?”

“No, he doesn’t actually have a name, that I know of. We just took to calling him Pete because he wanted a name.”

The light came on. We fled with the darkness. Let the living remain with the living. The toolshed in the school yard was a perfect place to talk.

“What is it I am supposed to do?”

“You will become a guardian angel.” I went on to explain the duties. We couldn’t always save people from death, but we could offer protection and guidance.

“So do I get a pair of wings?”

“Not exactly. We are creatures born from light.”

“What do you mean?”
Even now I can see the change in Carl’s body. His colors are becoming richer, darker.

“Remember what your church teachers used to say. That Jesus is the light of the world.”

“Yes.”

“We can only exist where there is light. We stick as close as we can to those we guard. We are their shadow.”