Mark M Bulmer

It's All Good

"Hello. Hello? Hello!"

"What?" Can't think.

"Ah! You're with us. Excellent news."

"What time is it?" Too early.

"It is precisely whenever you want it to be o'clock."

"I have a meeting at nine."

A chair in front of me.

"No meetings today."

I haul myself into the chair.

"You're doing very well."

It's a man's voice. He's across a table. The table in meeting room three. Shitty oak veneer looking from the 70's. The most boring person I've ever seen.

"Is this the meeting?" Hard to concentrate. "West division?"

"Wake up, please." He snaps his fingers at me.

A serious head shaking clears some fog.

"Who are you?"

"Unimportant but call me as you wish. Hmmm. Keffy comes to mind? Interesting."

"Fuck!" I grab the table's edges with both hands and close my eyes. "I'm dreaming?"

"I'm afraid not. This is as real as it gets."

"Aw, shit. I'm dead, right?"

"You are. There was an incident in the apartment—"

"Oh, shit! I knew the heater was a wreck."

"It's not—"

"I'm such an idiot. I should have—Shit! Is Tenny ok?"

"Tenny is fine."

"Alright." I shake my hands out to loosen my fingers. "I didn't tell her about the heater. You can't blame her."

"We don't assign blame."

"Whatever." Always trying to pin shit. "It's on me. I did it."

"Hold, please." Keffy raises a really-old-looking finger. "You did it? You are responsible?"

"It's my fault. I didn't tell her about the heater."

"What, exactly, is your fault?"

"Well, everything that happened."

"Confirm. Everything is your fault."

"What? No! Not, like, everything. Just Tenny and me and the heater and … that's it."

"Tenny," Keffy waggles his raised finger, "you," a second finger rises, "the heater," a third finger joins the pair.

"Yeah." I raise three fingers back at him. My nails look like shit.

"You're sure?"

"Said so twice."

"Very well." Keffy lowers his hand and opens a folder. "A rare occurrence, and my first."

"Where'd the folder come from?"

"From Tenny's room."

"What?"

"You took responsibility for her actions."

"Not, like, everything."

"You claimed fault for Tenny's actions. You will be judged on both your sins and hers."

"Judged? Hang on."

"You were Tenny's fourteenth victim."

"Victim?"

"Yes. She poisoned you and thirteen other women."

"No way! She'd never hurt anyone."

"Tenny hurt hundreds of people. She killed thirty-eight women."

I had no words.

"You were her last relationship killing. After your murder, she switched from poison to knives. The following twenty-four women died horribly."

"Wait."

"A particularly gruesome hell has been prepared for her."

"Stop."

"You'll hate it just as much as she would have."

"I didn't know."

"Ignorance, I'm afraid, is no excuse."

"You can't. I didn't do anything wrong!"

"A bit of a stretch, but your sins are very small. Almost tiny. Your heaven is beautiful. I'm sure Tenny will appreciate it."

"No!"

"This way please."