The Graduation Ceremony
I started taking Wesleyan University's Creative Writing courses on Coursera and this flash fiction came out of one of the assignments.
The Graduation Ceremony
T-minus 3h 47min
I paced the parking lot outside Elmridge High’s gym, my corporeal form prickly with perspiration from summer heat. Finally, the graduation caps were thrown and the double doors swung open to let the families out. Avery Parsons emerged, stunning in her lace-trimmed cream dress that swirled around her thighs, arms linked with her two best friends. She bore little resemblance to the sickly, balding girl I’d first met in a hospital twelve years ago. Her parents, Nick and Lucille, followed close behind, aglow with pride. Her little brother Austin came last, looked itchy and as impatient as I did for all the pomp to end.
I intercepted them right before they reached their Ford Explorer. “Hello, Nick. It’s been a while.”
Nick’s ruddy smile drained from his face, “Kaz. Hi. We’re about to go to dinner, to celebrate Avery’s graduation. Can this wait until after?”
I said, “Okay, let’s meet at 9 o’clock. Enjoy your steak.” I had a deadline to meet.
Nick slammed the driver’s side door closed. Lucille noticed the terror in his eyes as he caught mine in the rearview mirror. She asked, “Honey, who was that?” I heard his reply as he peeled out of the parking lot, “An old acquaintance.”
T-minus 3h 18min
The Parsons had been anticipating their reservation at Wagyu House ever since Nick made it three weeks ago. I crouched behind a thick oak tree that shaded the parking lot and watched them walk towards the restaurant.
T-minus 1h 21min
The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time they finished their creme brulee and bottle of cabernet, casting the world in long shadows. Only Avery, Lucille, and Austin pushed through the glass doors. I narrowed my eyes as they drove off without Nick.
My tie to Nick drew me to the car-shares parked at the far corner of the lot. I chose an inconspicuous Civic. I drove south initially, then noticed that Nick’s trail was waning and made a U-turn. Chasing Nick was easy peasy; he’d merged onto Highway 101 and stayed on it. The only humans that had really provided any challenge were a Navy SEAL and a 7-year-old girl who’d wedged herself in a sewage pipe too narrow for my corporeal form to fit in.
Nick’s trail ebbed again when I drove past the Amtrak station. I sighed. I had a deadline to meet. There was no time to look up train schedules, exchange pleasantries with a weary ticket vendor, and wait at the piss-scented platform for the next train.
T-minus 0h 13min
I teleported onto the aisle seat beside Nick. He gasped and glanced around wide-eyed. There were only five other passengers in the couch car, and none of them had noticed my sudden appearance.
I said, “You have to keep your end of the contract. Avery gets a long and healthy life, and I get your soul when she graduates high school. Well, she graduated. Oh, the place she’ll go! I hope she’s had the time of her life!”
Nick shrank away from me, all small and scared against the backdrop of rolling California hills. He whimpered, “But it’s too soon! What if…what if she can’t handle losing her dad and starting college in the same year? What if she fails out? Could I see her graduate college? Could I see Austin graduate high school?”
“Look, I can’t just change the contracts willy nilly. I have deadlines to meet. Avery’s tough as nails. She survived leukemia - you’re welcome for that, by the way - and she’ll get over your death.”
Some demons enjoy watching humans suffer at the end, but I never saw the appeal. Why ruin their final hour, when an hour is so fleeting for us? I glanced down at my watch. “I’ll give you until the next stop to say your goodbyes. Obviously, no one can know you sold your soul to a demon to save Avery, but you can tell them you feel a heart attack coming on and you love them.”
And that’s what Nick did. Texting “I love you”, “I love you”,” I love you”, until the train screeched to a stop at Salinas, California.
All the other passengers in our car decided to disembark. In ten minutes, they’ll blink in confusion and ask themselves why Salinas, but by then I’ll be gone.
When the train started moving again, I retrieved a glass tube from my pocket and plucked out Nick’s soul. He shuddered all over as it left, then slumped over against the window, head bobbing with each bump of the train. I admired the way the gauzy teal flickered with gold. His soul smelled faintly of pine trees. I stoppered the tube and returned to my world.
T-minus 0
The Tax Agent was already waiting when I arrived.
“Kazreth. Cutting it awfully close.”
I bowed, “Sir, I was collecting my last soul for the year.”
The Tax Agent’s smirk chilled my cave; my glass tubes of souls, arranged in five neat racks, misted with condensation.
He said, “Yes. I noticed you were one off.”
With shaky claws, I slipped the tube holding Nick Parsons’s soul into the last empty slot on the nearest rack.
A swirl of darkness, the stench of sulfur, and all 365 slots were empty again.
“See you next year, Kazreth.” The Tax Agent said. I breathed a sigh of relief when his presence lifted.
Fin
Yes, I hate doing taxes enough to write a story inspired by it then send it in my first newsletter in 2 years.