Contractor: Chapter - 14

Containing one very important piece of punctuation.

The book was essentially what I understood of the dealings between Death and Shaun McGregor. I didn’t know much, and Death basically already owned the rights to both stories, so it wasn’t exactly plagiarism. I was compelled to change the names as well as fill in some of the details I didn’t know, which was a fairly broad section, with flat out fiction. I also removed the supernatural element, it didn’t quite fit in with the tone of the story, which I had also changed marginally. In the end, I wouldn’t even call it the same story. It felt weird that fiction seemed more true to what I had grown up believing than the actual reality.

Somewhere halfway in, I realized I wasn’t alone in my room. Someone had opened the door and walked in. I wasn’t sure how long they’d been standing behind me, in truth I’d been too distracted by writing to realize it earlier. I was actually surprised that I noticed. The only reason I realized at all was the flickering light coming from the open door. Regardless of who it was I was sure to be met with some form of criticism, so I braced myself and stopped and leaned back to look.

“Please, don’t stop on my account.” It was Hope, which was only sort of surprising. It’s not like there were a ton of people it could have possibly been. “It’s not like you did earlier.”

“I didn’t notice earlier.”

“Well it took you long enough. Another hour and I would have gone looking for something more interesting to do.” Had she really been watching for over an hour?

"Have you been reading over my shoulder?"

"Yes, I have."

"And?"

"The language isn’t really accurate to the time period, but it's not bad."

"Well I wouldn't know the time period, so you can't really blame me. It’s not like I have a fact checker or the internet to refer to."

"You could have asked me." She grumbled. I was beginning to feel there would be repercussions for my emotional meddling, neglecting her as a resource seemed to upset her. It was almost like she knew I was just using her… which was entirely possible, but I just assumed otherwise. Which was kind of a really stupid way of thinking, or at the very least very egotistical.

"Would you like to help then?" I hadn't done a collaborative work before, not that I'd ever wanted to.

"Sure." Hope perked up immediately at my offer.

She came up beside me and scooted her way next to me on the small chair, nearly pushing me off in the process. I'm not saying she was too big or anything, she was actually quite slim, but I didn't have enough room to write… comfortably.

“Um, Hope?" She turned to look at me, getting much too close in the process. "Not to be rude, but could you... pull up your own chair? I need a little more space to work.”

“Oh.” She blushed a little as she got up.

There was only one chair in the room, the one I was on. Hope just stood there looking around the room slowly.

“Is there a chair in your room I can bring in for you?” Hope nodded. I hadn’t really done anything wrong, but I still felt guilty for some reason, so bringing her a chair was the least I could do.

I followed Hope through the open door and she indicated a heavy looking armchair near the front of the room. It was awkward to carry but I managed to pick it up, shuffled back into my room, and put it down next to my own chair. My little wooden chair looked like garbage in comparison. I sat down, Hope pushed her armchair closer before sitting as well. I was beginning to think I had given her the wrong impression while manipulating her, then again I had really just given her the right impression but she’d taken hold of it more seriously than I had expected.

“So how far have you gotten?” If her patience with writing a contract was anything to go by her oddly cheerful mood wouldn’t last long.

“I’m about halfway through, which is where I usually get tired.”

“The action’s about to start then, right?” An excited look had replaced her earlier one of boredom, sadly it may have been a bit premature.

“I’m still building up to that, not that there was really much action at the bar when your dad took out McGregor.”

“This story’s about my dad and McGregor?” She looked genuinely confused, which made me confused. She had been reading over my shoulder hadn’t she? I know I changed a lot, but the two plots were very similar.

“Haven’t you been reading as I typed?”

“Yes, but where are the souls and contracts and contractees?”

“I took out the supernatural things to make it more realistic, they’re still hinted at, but it’s more of a subtle undertone that you have to read into.”

“But those things are real. It isn’t the same without them.” She paused for a second. “Wait... am I in this then too?”

“Yes...” I was hesitant to tell her. It would probably give her an unnecessary ego boost. “You did play a fairly pivotal part in your father’s plan to trick McGregor.” She was smiling. “I tried to limit your character development though, I didn’t want too large of a main cast.”

“You made me a background character?” She was upset now. It was what I had been aiming for, but I regretted it almost instantly.

“You only did the one thing right? And it’s not like the character based on you is you. She’s just a character in a book.” She calmed down a little.

“Fine.”

“Then let’s get going before I start to forget the details.”

 

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I was honestly pleasantly surprised, Hope hadn’t shown any sign of impatience for the remaining half of the book. She was actually helpful, not to say that I anticipated otherwise, but I hadn’t been extremely hopeful. There were several instances of fighting but they weren’t too serious and we both had valid points each time. It was actually nice to write with someone else for once. It created a great way to refine ideas and highlight details that needed to be included. While her assistance had cleared up a lot of the missing details I’d almost left out, she also created questions in my head about what actually had actually happened.

“So that’s it?” Hope seemed surprised.

“That’s it. You just co-wrote a novel.” I pulled the last page out of the typewriter and placed it face down on top of the rest of the pages.

“Let’s write another one.” I hadn’t expected her to be so excited. Although I felt like she was just acting. Her behavior while writing was almost the complete opposite of who she had been every other time we’d been together. Why would she act though?

“Hold your horses, girl. I need to hand this in.” I said, tapping on the stack of papers. “I need a new idea after that too, and that might take a while.”

"Well hurry up, I've been starved for fun for far too long." Hope dropped the manuscript in my lap and pushed me up out of my chair. "Go, you know my father isn't a patient man."

"How can he be impatient when he doesn't know I've written it already?"

"Well I'm not a patient girl." She grinned. "So get going." She nudged me towards the door.

"Fine, I'll make it quick." I tried to hide my nerves. I didn't like that she was blatantly flirting with me. I hadn't considered this as a consequence of my actions.

I closed the still open door to Hope's room and opened it back up to Death’s office. Everything was in exactly the same place as it was every time. Dust on everything, spider webs on the dust, and spiders on the webs. Only Death wasn't in his chair.

In a brief moment of what I would only call insanity, curiosity overcame me and I wandered behind his desk. I sat down in the chair and a cloud of dust floated up around me. When the dust settled he was standing across the desk from me.

"It is not much for looks, but it is comfortable is it not?" I froze immediately.

"I'm sorry... I... I have no idea what I was thinking." I stood up and backed away from the chair.

"I get the impression that you are not treating our... relationship with the proper level of seriousness." We switched places and he sat down in his chair. Not a single speck of dust came up this time. "I do not want you to get the wrong impression, I do not intend to do you any harm, but I am allowing you conditions more luxurious than necessary."

"I understand. It’s just that you weren't here so I was going to leave a note." It was a bad cover up and I don't think he was fooled.

"Well, I am here now. What do you have for me?"

"A manuscript." I handed him the stack of papers. "You may find the story familiar."

"Just business? I do read to get away from my work, but I trust you made it interesting?"

"We tried."

"We?" He looked surprised.

"Yes, Hope helped me with some of the details and time period accuracy. She's a better writer than she let on." He looked concerned. That was the first time I had ever seen him look like a parent.

"She has taken a liking to you." He was frowning now. "If... if you do anything to her... I’ll…" He couldn't finish his thoughts.

"I wouldn't dream of it." I reassured him. "But for my own safety, when was the last time she was in a relationship?" He cringed.

"Just go." He stood and it looked like he was about to walk around the desk if I hadn’t gotten the message and started to leave as soon as he said it.

"Does he like it?" Hope asked excitedly as I returned to my room.

"Well, he didn't say much about the book." I had no idea how to say what I wanted to to her.

"What did you talk about?" It looked like she was catching on. "You were in there too long to have just dropped it off."

"He was concerned about you spending time around me." That didn’t really have the right connotations, more like I was being a bad influence, but I rolled with it.

"What!" She seemed more surprised than angry.

"You should be happy, this just proves that he cares. I think you've gotten the wrong impression from him."

"Why would he be upset about me spending time with you though?" I was a little hurt, but not really. "You're so... weak." Again, hurt.

"Conflict of interest, maybe?" I sighed. "Maybe he doesn't want you to get involved with someone who could take advantage of the situation."

"Ugh!" She groaned. "I am not a child anymore, I’m nearly three hundred years old for goodness sake. He doesn't need to keep looking out for me like that." She seemed to regret saying it almost immediately.

"That's a normal feeling," I reassured her. "But even if you aren't a child you'll always be his child."

"You're right... for once." She sighed. "That was really sappy though, so you lose points for that."

“Well, I’m perfectly happy going nowhere.” She didn’t get the hint.