Death and the Maiden (a farce)


Death comes to my bedroom late at night.  He 
wears your name on his chest.  Wiggling his 
finger, he says, "______ is dead, and you must 
come with me."  I laugh, and tell him that's
what he said last time, except X's name
marked his chest.  Death is jealous, and
he tells me that he'll find a way to bring
me home.  I stare out the window at the 
sapphire sky with the most surreal clouds 
until he decides to leave.  The next day,
a cat runs across the street at the wrong
moment, and a car smashes her down.  "See,"
says Death, "that could have been you."  I
look at the oncoming traffic, but still 
continue on my way.  That night, my mother 
calls me.  She says that I should go home,
sometime.  I say no and try to sleep.  
In my dreams, you become one of a group
of women-eating aliens, who look like men.
I fire bullets into your toothy maws, but 
that doesn't stop you.  Death says, "Look, 
it's either them, or me."  I swap the
gun for a water hose and spray you.  All
of you dissolve.  Death takes a break 
to decide what to do.  In a week, while
I cut vegetables for dinner, the knife
slips and nicks my finger.  "That could have 
been your wrist," Death whispers.  By now,
I'm getting tired of his lies.  In the
morning, I ask Life for a ward.  She sends
a drug-addicted man who is trying to null
his habit.  One night, while struggling in
the throes of pure speed, he calls me over.
Death is standing on his shoulders, and
says, "He's mine, and you'll come with me."
I lay my hands on my friend's chest, imagine
heat coursing through his body.  Death grows
pale and flees the scene.  After that, weeks 
pass without a word.  By now, I haven't 
heard from you in a month.  Death finds a
way to unlatch the screen and come into
my bedroom.  He says, "Follow me."  He
points to the earth in the garden.  I'm
weary of fending off his desire, but I 
recall how I healed my friend.  A sweet
warmth swaddles my heart, which has been 
darkening in blotches since you left.  
Death smiles, and says, "Maybe, next time."



--jennifer crystal chien