Death, Kind

By Sarah Kosofsky

Mordecai, an angel of death, arrives at the bedside of a young cancer patient to help her pass on, only to be rebuked by the little girl. What begins as an annoyance turns into the road trip of several lifetimes as Mordecai, the young patient, and her guardian angel journey from Connecticut to Canada in a stolen Volvo to fulfill the girl’s dying wish. Along the way, thanks in part to the curiosity of a seven year old, the big questions get asked.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sarah Kosofsky
• Release date: Jul 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465909756

Sarah Kosofsky

In elementary school, haunted by bad handwriting grades and an extreme disregard for describing details, Sarah Kosofsky swore that she would never write a story if she didn’t have to. So much for that.

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Death, Kind

A story by Sarah Ida Kosofsky

Copyright 2011 by Sarah Ida Kosofsky

Smashwords Edition

I would like to thank Amy De Genaro, Courtney Dwyer, and my mom for their editing help, Amy again for her cover design and formatting, and Clara Euam for her amazing drawing on the cover.

I dedicate this story to you guys, because without you, this wouldn’t have been published.

Death, Kind

Mordecai had been sitting in the cafeteria of Emeta’s Saint Joseph’s Hospital for about an hour. Every now and then he would shift in his seat or adjust his pinstriped suit jacket, which did not actually exist. Or he would check his watch, which not only did not exist, but its apparent existence was pointless, as Mordecai did not need to know the time.

Despite the fact that Mordecai was a tall, well-built man with a strikingly handsome face, no one took much notice of him. The older a person was, the more likely they were to acknowledge him; there were some exceptions, in which younger people smiled at him or said hello, but for the most part, people paid him little mind.

After a while, he stood. The time had come.

He walked out of the cafeteria and through the corridor that led to the nearby oncology department. In this part of the hospital, the atmosphere tended to be more quiet, peaceful. No one here was rushed, as they were in the Emergency Room. The sadness, too, was not overwhelming and sudden, but instead was gradual and generally accepted by those that were there on a constant basis.

He knew a few who were like him that enjoyed the drama and excitement of the Emergency Room. Mordecai did not like the sight of blood or the panic of frightened loved ones, so he left the ER for the others.

He passed by an old nun who was wearing a pair of overalls with her habit. He smiled sweetly at her, since her eyes had gone wide when she noticed his presence. As he walked, he kept his gaze forward, but he could feel her watching his back. Even though she was whispering inaudibly, he could still hear her prayers.

He finally reached his destination. He first looked through the windows that the room shared with the hallway; the shades were down, but were tilted enough so that he could see through.

A thin girl was lying in bed, connected to tubes and cords. A knitted pink hat covered her bald head. She was deathly pale and thin, an appearance exacerbated by the presence of the healthy members of her family in the room. It was time for her to go.

Mordecai knew that the surface of the window’s glass hid one other being in the room, one that none of the others could see. He wondered who it was that would be protecting the dying this time. With assuredness in his step, Mordecai went for the door.

Upon entering the girl’s room, he immediately looked to her bedside, to the spot where her family wasn’t standing. There was a woman there who looked to be in her late thirties, dressed in a simple white cotton dress with a pink flower print. She was smiling sadly at the girl in the hospital bed, knowing full well why Mordecai was there.

Mordecai remembered that sad smile from another hospital room, seven years ago. He never forgot the faces or names of those like himself.

Katherine, he said, and she looked up at him with the same sad smile. Like always, the family paid no attention to the new stranger in the room.

Mordecai, hello again.

You remember me.

Of course I remember you, you were the kindest out of— she glanced around at the family members surrounding the bed before continuing, —your group.

Mordecai forced his appearance to blush slightly. What do you mean?

The others are cold when going about their business. You’re not, despite what you do.

He considered saying something to defend his business, but decided against it, not wanting to appear difficult to Katherine. She was one of those people that one wants to be agreeable with, as her demeanor was so calm and tranquil.

It’s time, Katherine.

I know. I can’t protect her any longer.

Mordecai put a tanned hand on the small girl’s shoulder.

The girl’s eyes opened. She turned her head to face Mordecai. No! she shouted, sending Mordecai backwards. He looked back and forth between Katherine and the girl. Katherine’s mouth was agape as she witnessed the girl’s defiance.

This had never happened to Mordecai before. No person had ever had the ability to completely rebuke his power; his confidence in the moment was shattered, and he suddenly felt incredibly awkward.

The girl turned her steadfast gaze onto Katherine. Tell him I won’t go.

Katherine’s eyes went wide. Mordecai wasn’t the only one the girl could see.

At this point the nurse in the room started fussing about the girl, trying to get her to calm down and to stop shouting. The nurse paid no mind to Katherine and Mordecai.

Katherine, what is going on? Mordecai asked.

Katherine shook her head as she returned the girl’s gaze. I don’t know. Lilly, please, this is how it is.

NO! Lilly screamed. Katherine recoiled from the girl’s side and turned to face Mordecai.

Go outside the building, to the sculpture garden. I’ll meet you there.

Mordecai turned on his heels and left, both angry and confused. This was his job, his duty. It had never been something that he took joy in, but he was an essential part of the human life process. He was perplexed at how this little girl, this sick and weak cancer patient, had told him no.

It might seem, to humans, that this would be counter-intuitive; no living person with reason to live would be ready to die, and many would fight to live, even when looking death in the eyes. However, when an individual has reached the point of