Anaea finally looked the administrator in the eyes, a turn that shook her curly black hair.
“What could you people possibly offer me?”
The look of shock on Dr. Greaves’ face quickly turned to resignation. “Mr. Robinson was here under observation for his persistent cough… and one of our people murdered him. There would be nothing we could do beyond paying millions in a pre-emptive settlement but, as you already know, there may be more victims. Hallowmas starts tomorrow, Ms. Robinson. After our pathologists finish his autopsy, we can send him to an immortician.”
“I don’t have money for resurrection,” Anaea said angrily. “Buck was a boxer but there hasn’t been any money left since before I was born.”
“As I said, the hospital would end up paying you millions anyway, Ms. Robinson. The unique timing and nature of Mr. Robinson’s… passing doubled with the police and prosecutors wanting at least one first-hand account equals a chance for you to say goodbye to him. It’s literally the least we can offer you.”
“But you said Papa Buck was dead, mom,” Vanessa stated in confusion.
And Anaea thought the next difficult thing she had to explain to her eight year old daughter would be sex.
The living room looked pristine, straight out of a housekeeping digest, because no one did any living in it. Anaea was always at work or in her backyard gym, Vanessa was always at school or extracurriculars or bouncing between friends’ homes, and Buck was usually either in his room or the garden or the kitchen. Mostly murder happened in the living room since Jack Marsh, Anaea’s best friend and Vanessa’s godfather and Buck’s nurse, played hours of violent video games on the wall screen TV. There was no running over prostitutes who owed him money with his ’67 Chevy Impala hardtop tonight, though. Jack sat on the large blue couch beside Vanessa and Anaea being a responsible adult, not a drug-addicted ex-con on a virtual rampage.
“He is, Van,” Jack explained, “but being dead is more complicated than it used to be.”
Anaea closed her eyes and sighed silently, thanking him for taking the lead.
“Everybody dies, Van,” he continued. “Some people come back. It doesn’t happen often, sweetie, but it’s what’ll happen with Papa Buck. We all have something in us. Some people call them souls. I don’t know what they really are. I… Anaea, the immortician should be the one to explain it to her.”
“The immortician can explain it to me, too,” Anaea replied.
“Uncle Jack told me that babies come from sex, then people live, then they die,” Vanessa stated, much to her mother’s horror.
“You told her about sex, Jack?!”
“Only age appropriate information. She asked, I’m a medical professional, and you tense up every time she mentions it.”
“Jesus, Jack.”
“What’s an immortician, mom?”
“Like Uncle Jack said,” Anaea happily got the derailed conversation back on track, “people can sometimes come back from the dead, and the immortician helps.”
“Come back like zombies?”
“No, honey. Not like zombies.”
“But Uncle Jack’s always killing zombie hookers.”
Anaea shot Jack another stern look to which he replied with a shrug.
“Zombies aren’t real, Van,” Jack explained. “They’re just made up monsters in video games and movies.”
“I thought people coming back to life was made up, too,” the girl countered.
“We all did until a few years ago,” he explained. “If the timing of someone’s death is right and their soul wants to come back…”
“And if their family has enough money…” Anaea grumbled.
“…and a few other conditions are met,” Jack continued while shooting Anaea his own dirty look, “the dead person can come back to life for three special days starting on Halloween morning.”
“And Papa Buck will come back tomorrow morning?”
“We hope so, Van. He can help make sure the bad nurse who hurt him never hurts anyone else ever again… and we and Papa Buck can say our goodbyes to each other.”
“Will he be all rotten?”
“No, he won’t be rotting. He’ll look just like he did when we last saw him, maybe even a bit stronger.”
“You’re sure he won’t try to eat my brains?”
“Positive, Van.”
“You should bring a console controller along to protect us, Jack,” Anaea joked. Neither Jack nor Vanessa laughed.
“Can I watch Papa Buck come back to life with you and Uncle Jack, mom?”
“I don’t think children are allowed, sweetie.”
“I’m almost nine!”
“I’ll call the immortuary and see if they’ll make an exception in this case,” Jack offered.
“We should all be there for him, mom. We should all be there when Papa Buck comes back.”
Jack and Anaea were still on the couch a while later talking and occasionally looking into the kitchen where Vanessa had been suitably distracted with a kids show on her tablet and some pre-Halloween candy after a very early dinner.
“She’ll need you a lot more now without me and Buck here,” he said.
“You’ll still be around.”
“As long as you have that wall screen and surround sound.”
“Thank God for you, godfather.”
“My goddaughter barely sees her mother.”
“If she saw me more, she’d be seeing food less.”
“Anaea…”
“I’ll excuse you. You’ve got to call the immortuary.”
“That isn’t how you speak to someone doing you a favour.”
“No. It’s how I speak to family doing their job. Later, godfather. I’ve got things to kick.”
The garden shed she’d converted into a gym was Anaea’s sanctuary. Gloves and shin guards were the armour she put on every day, weights were every burden she had to bear, the skipping rope was every obstacle she had to overcome, the free-standing black punching bag was everyone she wanted to kill. She jabbed her right fist forward, threw a left hook, ducked, brought her right knee up, then kicked the dark obelisk with her left foot. She kept her hands up, ducking, squatting, lunging across the fluorescent bright interior of the gym. It took an hour before she realized what she kept wiping from her eyes wasn’t only sweat.
“I put Van to bed,” Jack announced from the plastic door. “You’ve been out here awhile. I’m not coming in so you can kick me in the nuts.…”
“It was an accident.”
“…again. I’ll stick to the shooting range.”
“I’m not going to break down, Jack. I’ve been prepared for this since before Vanessa was born, since before my parents died and Buck moved to the island to live with me.”
She uppercut empty air.
“He was old, Jack, as old as people can get. He couldn’t live forever!”
She grabbed the back of an imaginary opponent’s head, bringing it down onto her rapidly rising left knee.
“He just had a cough.”
She stopped fighting, fists still raised and ready, knees apart and slightly bent, redistributing her weight from side to side as she looked at Jack.
“He just had a fucking cough…”
They stood in silence for a bit.
“Phil called a few minutes ago, Anaea. He wants me to come over, thinks I need a hug.”
“He should know by now you’re not a hugger.”
“Neither are you,” Jack said as he walked in and hugged Anaea who reluctantly and sweatily hugged him back, “and we’re not big criers, either. Old Buck was like family to me, too. I’ll be back in the morning around four to help you and Van get ready for the rising.”