Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross by B.L. Newport Page A

and death that the owner had finally
thrown in the towel and barred the doors forever. She remembered
how she and Maggie had expressed their dismay at never seeing one
of the shows. Their friends had all raved about the quality of the
drag queens that had graced the stage every night of the week and
that Brigit and Maggie had indeed missed out on a good time.
    Matthew Swenson was the assignment. His
moment of passing had been the result of a drug overdose. Brigit
frowned slightly as she scanned the contents of his life. She hoped
that all her assignments would not be so sad, or so quick to touch
her heartstrings. Sighing, she closed the file and returned it to
her coat pocket. It was best to get on with it. Raising her hand to
shield her eyes against the bright light of the portal, Brigit
stepped out onto the street.
    When she finally lowered her hand, she found
herself standing in the middle of the empty theater. Dim light from
the morning sun forced its way through small dust covered panes of
glass high up the wall. Brigit let her eyes adjust to the shadows
created by the faintness of light. She could make out the shapes of
the tables that had been pushed to one side of the room and the
chairs stacked neatly though they would never be used again. Brigit
turned slowly, her eyes adjusting even more as she scanned the
shadows. She made out the long shape that had been the bar. Bottles
still lined the shelves behind it. The layer of dust shrouding them
preserved the remaining contents from the faint light.
    A movement on the stage caught Brigit’s
attention. Her grip on the curved handle of her black umbrella
involuntarily tightened. It was a spirit, but her instincts told
her it was not her current assignment. Bearing that thought in
mind, Brigit determined it was time to get on with it.
    The sound of her boots echoed as she crossed
the wooden floor to the narrow doorway to the left of the stage.
The sign posted over the door indicated it was the way to the
restrooms, but, she suspected it was also the passage to the
dressing room where the nightly entertainment would have prepared
for their turn on the small stage. As she walked down the dark,
narrow hall, she continued to hear the movement behind her. The
spirit that had been moving on the stage was following her,
watching her. She knew it was not the subject of her assignment.
Yet, she was prepared to fight should she need to.
    The restrooms were situated to the left of
the hall. Even though the signs posted on the door designated
‘men’s’ and ‘women’s’, Brigit knew they would have been used
regardless of the patron’s true gender. She had often visited gay
establishments and found herself sharing the facilities with a drag
queen. When desperate, she had even found herself in the men’s
room. There was rarely surprise expressed in either situation. The
call of nature was a force to be heeded and they were all ‘family’
anyway…
    Brigit stopped walking as the first note
floated through the darkness to her ears. It had originated from
the door at the end of the hall, just across from the dust covered
payphone hanging from the wall. She listened for more, acutely
aware that the spirit behind her had ceased it’s approach as well.
The voice was soft and warm sounding as it slowly sang each note of
the warm-up scale. At the top note, however, the voice cracked.
Brigit found herself smiling. Apparently, some things really did
carry over into the afterlife.
    Slowly, she opened the door and stepped in.
The bulbs surrounding the mirror situated over the make-up table
burned brightly. He was seated at the far end of the table, his
back straight and his hand steady as he generously applied thick
mascara to the already thick false eyelashes. His hair had been
plastered to his head with the pressure of a nylon stocking cut and
knotted in preparation for the wig he would wear during his routine
on stage. Brigit guessed the piece was the platinum beehive
carefully