Amber Sparks: May We Shed These Human Bodies

Death watched the people and worried they were going to cause problems. They had no intention of adapting to the Afterwards; that much was clear. He worried that maybe they would start rioting or something. The people are bored, thought Death. They need something to occupy their time.

So Death built the people a giant movie megaplex, the largest in the universe, where they could watch any movie ever made. And the people were thrilled. They forgot their basement window and spent all their time at the movies, dropping popcorn on the floor through buttery fingers and drinking fountain sodas with plastic straws. They formed film discussion groups, arguing the merits of German Expressionism versus Neo-Realism, and Police Academy sequels versus stoner comedies. They watched fast car chases and slow love scenes with equal ardor, and their skin turned translucent and pale as milk from so many days spent in the dark. Death sighed in relief and stopped worrying.

But then one morning, when Death was brushing his teeth, he looked in the mirror and saw the people standing there all disgruntled-looking. Death spat into the sink and said, Oh, great. Now what?

We long for Earth, said the people. It's time we went back.

Jesus, said Death. What is the deal with you people? You’re tired of your movie theater already? Did you run out of movies?

No, said the people. We love the movie theater. In fact, we have a long list of movies we still want to see.

So what's the problem? Death asked. He was glad he had a bathrobe on. The people had to stop dropping in like this. It was like the people didn't understand that Death needed some privacy.

The people fidgeted and shuffled their feet, and Death was gratified to see that they seemed a little embarrassed. We love the movies, they said, but they all remind us of Earth. And now we’re more homesick than ever.

Death felt sorry for the people, in spite of their popping up uninvited all the time. They couldn't help that they always had bad timing, that they always did the wrong thing. That was what the people were like. You can't go back, he said gently. I told you that before. Is there something else that you would like? Something that would make you happier here?

Sandwiches, said the people. And lipstick. And cell phones. And swimming pools, and losing weight, and relaxing on beach towels, and telling white lies, and growing things. We want snow and museums and political rallies and sex and cigarettes and tree trunks and ripe apples and hunting rifles and pizza and shopping malls and nightmares and bonfires. The people stood with their arms crossed, waiting.

Death had no idea what to do. He figured he'd better ask the Ones in Charge, so he rinsed off his toothbrush, placed it neatly in the toothbrush holder, and walked to the bedroom to change out of his bathrobe. The people followed, arms still crossed mulishly. Look, said Death, lifting a grey cashmere sweater out of his top drawer. Can you please get out of here? I need to get dressed.

How come we don't get to wear cashmere? Or brush our teeth, or wear loafers without socks? the people asked.

Because you're dead, said Death.

Being dead is getting old, said the people.

Let me talk to the Ones in Charge and see what I can do, said Death. Now leave me alone so I can get dressed in privacy. Please.

We'll go, said the people. But we'll be back. We're not giving up.

Death was starting to understand why he felt sympathy for the people, why he was even beginning to grow fond of them. They were so brave and stubborn in the face of things that couldn't be changed. Even dead, they clung to their sense of what it meant to be living, and they seemed utterly unable to give it up. Over the eons, Death had watched countless beings shed life like a skin, wriggling free and wrapping themselves in the elemental instead. Most beings seemed to delight in losing the weight of the world. But the people held hard to weight, to the heaviest things like furniture and loss and other people. They seemed determined to be solid, to be planted — to be unavoidable roadblocks in the flow of the Afterwards. They were strange beings, the people. There was nothing else like them.

Death flew up to the attic of the Afterwards where the Ones in Charge hung out. They were playing Mario Kart Wii, and it took Death what seemed like a year and a half to get their attention. Well, said the Ones. You wanted to see us about something?

Uh, he said, yes. The people have started to revolt. They want to go back to Earth. I told them they can't, but it doesn't seem to matter.

Hmm, said the Ones. Death was pretty sure they weren't even listening. The Ones in Charge were so annoying when they were playing video games. When they first got a copy of Gears of War, they refused to see anyone except Death for two whole weeks. Plus Death had to keep bringing them Doritos and Hot Pockets.

Guys, he said. Guys, come on — the people are totally harassing me. They just keep showing up at my house. You have to do something.

The Ones didn't even look away from the TV when they spoke to Death. You think we hadn't noticed? That we were just totally ignorant up here? I mean, seriously. We are the Ones in Charge. We know everything.

Well, then, asked Death, what should I do? With the people, I mean?

Take them back to Earth, said the Ones in Charge. We're bored, too. We used to get our kicks watching the people. Now we have nothing to do.

For real? Death asked. Send them back to Earth? I can do that?

Yes, and do it quickly, said the Ones in Charge. Aren't you bored, too, Death?

Well, yeah, but — I mean, if I let them go back, I'm just going to look like a giant pussy, said Death.

Nah, I wouldn't worry about that. You're already a giant pussy anyway, said the Ones in Charge, and high-fived each other.

Hey, said Death. But then he realized he pretty much was.

Go to the people, said the Ones in Charge. Take them back now, but don't let them remember. Give them a fresh start. Earth will help you.

And so Death assembled all the people in the public square and delivered the good news. It was something he was unused to doing, so he stammered a little, but when he told the people they would get to go back they put him on their shoulders and cheered. They promised never to call him 'The Hall Monitor' ever again, and to be super-ultra respectful of Death in the future. They even poured fountain soda all over him, since they didn't have any Gatorade in the Afterwards. Death had to admit he was a little touched by the gesture, even if he was all sticky now.

At last it was time for the people to return to Earth. So Death showered and put on his best black suit, and flew to Earth with the people in tow. The people were soft and pale and slow by now, so it took a long time to get everybody back. Then Death erased the people's memories, and took away their language, and set them on the plains and hills, and in the forests and jungles and deserts, naked and full of ideas and newness.

Earth was secretly pleased to see the people again. It had been caring for the animals, and that was kind of interesting, for a while. All the new plants, too. Thing was, though, the animals and plants never really surprised you like the people could. Some of the people's surprises had been horrible, to be sure. And Earth had seriously resented the people for it. But Earth thought maybe this time it could improve the people, push them in the right direction every now and then. Maybe the people just needed a firm hand.

Fruits and vegetables grew like crazy to make the people strong. The water ran clear and cold, skimmed over silver rocks, and poured itself into the people's hands to refresh them. The animals rubbed against the people's legs, and the sky made sunshine and plump white clouds to sit under. And the people marveled at their existence and invented language, and the first thing they spoke of was how they came to be.