Death and Other Inconveniences

"Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" "Oh Good Lord," I mumbled to myself. My hand searched the bed for my body pillow, which I tucked under my head. The sun shone bright outside, the only thing stopping it from stinging my eyes was the shadow of a nearby tree. Rufus lay at the end of the bed, legs in the air like a dead cockroach. "That's a very unflattering pose," I said to him. "Chicken or the egg?" "Do I have to answer that?" I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pushing my feet into some soft fuzzy slippers. I looked to the clock on the transparent wall in the kitchen, 7:00 AM. I couldn't understand why my clock was set so early. I found myself staring at a giraffe struggling to angle his tongue to obtain a leaf just out of reach. "Chicken or the egg?" I stood, stretched dramatically then walked into my oversized closet. I reached for the plastic covered uniform and took it to the bathroom. The bath steamed scented aromas and large bubbles. I was too tired to think about how my bath knew to run itself. I could hear Rufus eating in the kitchen as I lowered myself into the perfectly hot spa. Then I heard it again, "Chicken or the egg?" "Is there a button I can press?" I yelled out. "I'm awake already!" Annoyingly I found myself thinking about the stupid question. Okay, well the chicken laid the egg, but where did the chicken come from? It probably came from the same coop that the other chicken escaped from when he crossed the road. Rufus had my robe in his mouth, dragging it on the tiled floor and dropping it at my side. "Don't tell me we have a visitor." I reached for my towel, which was folded, next to my slippers. "Are you out there Avery?" "I'm standing outside," he yelled back. "I'm in the bath, can you give me a few minutes?" "Only if it takes a few minutes." I imagined him standing at my door, hands behind his back, whistling impatiently. Rushing through my towel dry, I put on my dreary uniform, sprayed on some violet perfume and quickly admired my amazingly tidy hair in the mirror on the way out. Avery sat on the stoop of my home wearing gray sweat pants and t-shirt that flattered his athletic body. I approached the doorway. "Are you sure you can't see me?" "Would you stop asking me that? Are you dressed?" "Yes," I replied, taking a seat at my kitchen counter. He walked through the doorway and took a seat next to me. At that moment I heard a little beep, indicating that his black coffee was ready. "I set it on a timer," he explained, pouring the coffee into a navy blue cup that he grabbed from the cabinet next to him. "You also set my alarm too early," I poured my own cappuccino and sipped it like it was the nectar of the God's. "What is your obsession with chickens?" He shrugged non-commitedly. "So which came first, was it the chicken?" "I wasn't here at the beginning of time so I couldn't tell you." He took a seed bagel from his pocket, found a knife in a nearby drawer and explored my fridge for butter. "Would you like a bagel?" "I don’t know. Do I have any in my cupboards?" He smiled. "Cinnamon, right?" "Sure," I shrugged in response. He took a cinnamon bagel from his other pocket and cut it open for me. "You might want to get some butter on that while it's still warm." I did my best not to show my astonishment and discreetly felt my switch to confirm its off position. "What would you have done if I didn't want the bagel?" He took a bite from his and sipped his coffee quickly as though they had to be unified in one mouthful. "I would have given it to Charlie." "Who's Charlie?" "My goat," he stated matter-of-factly. He proceeded to butter my bagel impatiently. "You have a goat?" "Yes, he isn't fussy about my food tastes." "Oh." I took a bite of my bagel, which was exceptionally good; I added a touch more butter because I didn't have to worry about it finding it's way instantly to my hips. "You have a very casual look going today." "Because I worked two shifts yesterday I kindly gave myself the day off." "Must be nice to be the friends in high places," I smiled. "So it is," he sipped his coffee and gestured for us to sit in the living room. I grabbed my food and followed him. He sat opposite me on the velvet recliner. Rufus walked in and plopped himself on the floor. "I'm going jogging after this," Avery said out of nowhere. "Life of leisure," I noted, snuggling my body into the curves of my couch. "I thought I'd give you a quick run down on the job." "I can't say I'm looking forward to it." "Don't be defeated before you pick up your sword," he gestured for my silence. "You gave me a week so no more negativities." "Okay; proceed Mr. Avery," I watched him lean into the recliner chair. "What is your last name anyway?" "I don't have one." "Oh." Avery adjusted uncomfortably then found himself resting his arms on his knees and working himself into a spiel of some kind. "Have you every killed someone?" "Not personally," I raised one eyebrow as I often did. "That should be something that came up on my file, right?" "Yes, I'm sorry, let me rephrase." He shifted uneasily. "What do you think about the man that murdered you?" I stared out at a pair of fighting gazelles. "I have to admit, I haven't given it much thought. What should I think about it? Do you mean am I angry at him?" "Exactly," he coached. "I don't know, I guess I would be angry if he had taken me from a family or a husband or if I was having a life I didn't want to leave," I searched his reaction. "Not to say that I was suicidal or anything because I was content for the most part, but it's easier to say goodbye to an empty room." "Don't you ever wonder why he did it?" "No," I gave my instinctual response. "No I don't. I didn't know him so more than likely he was a lunatic stalker or a sexual predator, either that or I looked like the mother that abandoned him." He finished his bagel and coffee and put his feet up on the ottoman. "That's an untypical response." "But that's how it is, right? Whatever the reason, he did it to please himself and no matter why he did it, I still ended up dead." "Good, good. That's what separates you from others, that is what makes you different." "Yes I'm different, you're not the first to say it." "And that's how you are qualified for this, because you are not ruled by emotion, you think in black and white. And anyone who thinks in black and white, sees the colors more vibrantly." "You're talking in circles again." "A melter has to have a clear head and make decisions based only on the facts and not on suspicions or personal vendettas, follow?" I finished my cappuccino and scratched Rufus's head. "Okay, so I'm qualified because I'm antisocial," I smiled. "But you still haven't explained what I'm doing." "There are three things that encompass the role of a melter." He took a laminated card from his seemingly bottomless pocket. I took it and read it out loud. "Reform, Reincarnate, Remove. Is this mine?" "Yes, keep it in your uniform. Those are the melter basics, unfortunately the process of leading to one of those is much more complicated." "What does it mean?" "It means you," he pointed to me. "You get to decide what happens to many people. You are a judge in the afterlife, but the good thing is you are handed all the facts, there is no guessing involved. You will know everything the perpetrator did, you will know why and you will then decide what to do with them." "I have to decide whether to reform, reincarnate or remove?" "Exactly." "But who are these people that I get to decide their fate?" He got quiet and contemplated his angle. "Murderers, every murderer from this current time, for whatever motivation that forms their acts. They will all come through and be scanned and then you go through all the evidence and make that decision." "And what exactly does this mean?" I waved the card in the air. "It's very simple really, well not the job itself but the premise.