Abigail

   The morning was dense with fog as always. Trees tall as a temple stood between him and the border of Shigo. Whispers followed him. Eyes on him from the forest that would be frightening to most. The river currents that helped souls into the afterlife become more of a hindrance to anyone trying to go the other way. A near daily occurrence, given Jim’s position. He rowed at a steady pace; not too fast, not too slow, until eventually he made it through the border. The water that fell on people gently going in felt more like concrete going out.

Once out though, he was free. The whispers and eyes that surrounded him in the woods disappeared. He could just about hear himself think out here. He preferred it to the other side in all honesty, but he wasn’t born a human. Sadly.

He came to the forest’s edge and set up so that his canoe wouldn’t run off without it (which has happened to him, more than a few times.) Right around where he had picked up Hao Hao her first day. He proceeded into the woods with a clear mind. Practicing the words he’d written down on a napkin back at the school.

If he was to throw a party for the pixies and the students, there’d have to be food, but he couldn’t ask the pixies there to make it. Well, he could, but there’s an irony there Jim wants to avoid. He himself wasn’t much of a chef. In his defense, reapers don’t eat, but that’s beside the point. He had to feed living things. What better candidate than other living things? And the prices in the small town here were way cheaper than in Shigo.

As he made his way, he heard something. Holding his canoe stick firmly, he said, “Who goes there?”

The branches that had moved a second ago stopped. Had he imagined it? No, he didn’t think so. He waited. It was rare, but creatures from Shigo could escape from it and wreak havoc on the living. Reapers were tasked with making sure they went right back before anyone saw them.

He prepared to fight, but the light that appeared from the bushes was not that of the shika, but of a pixie. Brown hair in a messy ponytail, and a long blue dress. A pixie he recognized. He put his stick back on the ground. Resuming his normal, non-threatening stance.

“What in the butter cream biscuits are you doing here?” She said with a stern voice and a Gaelic accent.

“Abigail. Long time, no see.” Jim said.

“Do not Abigail me mister. I’m missing two-hundred fairies from this forest and I’m suspecting you happen to know something about that.” She said. Faster than anyone else Jim knew with words.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the smartest pixie I’ve ever met.”

“So it was you that took them?”

Jim scratched the back of his hood. “I mean, take is a really strong word. They may or may not have followed me across the border to Shigo the last time I made the trip.”

“And where are they now?” Jim went quiet, and she was quick to turn red, “Do not tell me they were eaten by the shika.”

“No, they weren’t. Shika don’t even eat pixies.” At least, he was fairly certain they didn’t. He put his hand to his heart, “They’re safe. I promise.”

“Where, Jim? I’m not letting you off until you tell me that.”

Jim sighed, “Alright, fine. I’ll tell you. They’re in the border of Shigo.”

“The border of— oh heavens, Jim. I knew you were starting trouble when you stopped taking souls all the way into the afterlife where they belong, and now you’re taking my pixies.”

“It’s just for a little bit.”

“Do you even know how far back you’ve pushed me? I’m three weeks late on fall. People have noticed. Longest summer ever, they’ve said in the newspaper. I’ve got some of our logic intelligence spinning a tale about something called global warming, but that excuse won’t work if I can’t get things back in order.”

“I’m sorry.” Jim said.

“Are you sorry enough to bring them back?”

Jim kept quiet.

“Jim, I swear, I should just go tell her myself.”

She turned her wings towards him, about to speed off. He held out a hand. Too far to stop her. He said, “Wait, please.”

“And why should I?”

“Listen. The people I’m helping; they don’t deserve the fate they’ve been given. A lot of them are young. Some of them are even younger than me. I’m really supposed to send them on their way?”

“That is your job, yes.”

He was a reaper. Born into this job. He didn’t have much other choice, but again, that was besides the point. He said, “Please Abigail. I just need a little bit more time to get things sorted.”

“And then what Jim? You know she’ll figure it out eventually even without me telling.”

“I’ve got it under control.”

“Do you?”

He twisted the stick in his hands. Nervousness didn’t befit a reaper, so his mother says, but he’d decided a long while ago that he wasn’t going to be the sort of reaper she wanted. He said, “I do. I swear it to you.”

She furrowed her brows, daring him. Challenging his very essence but he didn’t give up. He couldn’t. Eventually she was the one to sigh and give up. She asked him, “What about the souls in limbo right now? What are you telling them?”

Jim kept quiet.

“Fine. Keep your secrets, but I want those pixies back by next season. We can’t be late again.”

“That’s a promise.”

And finally, Abigail left him. Flew right out into the woods in a nose dive that let her out of his sight as fast as possible. Throw ‘find replacements for the fairies before winter’ onto his ever growing list of things to do. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure he could actually keep that promise, but it might not matter anyway.