A Dirty Job (Grim Reaper 1)

"And that's based on someone randomly coming into your shop and buying a record?" Then Charlie's eyes went wide as it hit him. "Rachel's Sarah McLachlan CD. You took it?"

"Yes. " Fresh looked at the floor, not because he was ashamed, but to avoid seeing the pain in Charlie Asher's eyes.

"Where is it? I want to see it," said Charlie.

"I sold it. "

"To who? Find it. I want Rachel back. "

"I don't know. To a woman. I didn't get her name, but I'm sure it was meant for her. You'll be able to tell. "

"I will? Why will I?" he asked. "Why me? I don't want to kill people. "

"We don't kill people, Mr. Asher. That's a misconception. We simply facilitate the ascendance of the soul. "

"Well, one guy died because I said something to him, and another had a heart attack because of something I did. A death that results from your actions is basically killing someone, unless you're a politician, right? So why me? I'm not that highly skilled at bullshit. So why me?"

Mr. Fresh considered what Charlie was saying, and felt like something sinister had crawled up his spine. In all his years, he didn't remember ever having his actions directly result in someone's death, nor had he heard of it happening with the other Death Merchants. Of course you occasionally showed up at the time when the person was passing, but not often, and never as a cause.

"Well?" Charlie said.

Mr. Fresh shrugged. "Because you saw me. Surely you've noticed that no one sees you when you're out to get a soul vessel. "

"I've never gone out to get a soul vessel. "

"Yes, you have, and you will, at least you should be. You need to get with the program, Mr. Asher. "

"Yeah, so you said. So you're - uh - we're invisible when we're out getting these soul vessels?"

> "Not invisible, so to speak, it's just that no one sees us. You can go right into people's homes and they'll never notice you standing right beside them, but if you speak to someone on the street they'll see you, waitresses will take your order, cabs will stop for you - well, not me, I'm black, but, you know, they would. It's sort of a will thing, I think. I've tested it. Animals can see us, by the way. You'll want to watch out for dogs when you're retrieving a vessel. "

"So that's how you got to be a - what do they call us?"

"Death Merchants. "

"Get out. Really?"

"It's not in the book. I came up with it. "

"It's very cool. "

"Thanks. " Mr. Fresh smiled, relieved for a moment not to be thinking about the gravity of Charlie's unique transition to Death Merchant. "Actually, I think it's a character from an album cover, guy behind a cash register, eyes glowing red, but I didn't know that when I came up with it. "

"Well, it makes perfect sense. "

"Yeah, I thought so," said Mr. Fresh. "More coffee?"

"Please. " Charlie held out his empty cup. "So, someone saw you. That's how you became a Death Merchant?"

"No, that's how you became one. I think that you may, uh - " Fresh didn't want to mislead this poor guy, but on the other hand he didn't actually know what had happened. "I think you may be different from the rest of us. No one saw me. I was working security for a casino in Vegas when that went sour for me - I have a problem with authority, I'm told - so I came to San Francisco and opened this shop, started dealing in used records and CDs, mostly jazz at first. After a while it just started happening: the glowing soul vessels, people coming in with them, finding them at estate sales. I don't know why or how, it just did, and I didn't say anything about it to anyone. Then the book came in the mail. "

"The book again. Don't you have a copy around?"

"There's only one copy. At least that I know of. "

"And you just mailed it out?"

"I sent it certified mail!" Fresh boomed. "Someone at your store signed for it. I think I did my part. "