Reaper Man Read Free Page A

looked up from its oats and gave a little whinny of greeting. The horse’s name was Binky. He was a real horse. Death had tried fiery steeds and skeletal horses in the past, and found them impractical, especially the fiery ones, which tended to set light to their own bedding and stand in the middle of it looking embarrassed.
    Death took the saddle down from its hook and glanced at Albert, who was suffering a crisis of conscience.
    Thousands of years before, Albert had opted to serve Death rather than die. He wasn’t exactly immortal. Real time was forbidden in Death’s realm. There was only the ever-changing now , but it went on for a very long time. He had less than two months of real time left; he hoarded his days like bars of gold.
    “I, er…” he began. “That is—”
    Y OU FEAR TO DIE ?
    “It’s not that I don’t want…I mean, I’ve always…it’s just that life is a habit that’s hard to break…”
    Death watched him curiously, as one might watch a beetle that had landed on its back and couldn’t turn over.
    Finally Albert lapsed into silence.
    I UNDERSTAND , said Death, unhooking Binky’s bridle.
    “But you don’t seem worried! You’re really going to die? ”
    Y ES . I T WILL BE A GREAT ADVENTURE .
    “It will? You’re not afraid?”
    I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO BE AFRAID .
    “I could show you, if you like,” Albert ventured.
    N O . I SHOULD LIKE TO LEARN BY MYSELF . I SHALL HAVE EXPERIENCES . A T LAST .
    “Master…if you go, will there be—?”
    A NEW D EATH WILL ARISE FROM THE MINDS OF THE LIVING , A LBERT .
    “Oh.” Albert looked relieved. “You don’t happen to know what he’ll be like, do you?”
    NO.
    “Perhaps I’d better, you know, clean the place up a bit, get an inventory prepared, that sort of thing?”
    G OOD IDEA , said Death, as kindly as possible. W HEN I SEE THE NEW D EATH , I SHALL HEARTILY RECOMMEND YOU .
    “Oh. You’ll see him, then?”
    O H , YES . A ND I MUST LEAVE NOW .
    “What, so soon?”
    C ERTAINLY . M USTN’T WASTE T IME ! Death adjusted the saddle, and then turned and held the tiny hourglass proudly in front of Albert’s hooked nose.
    S EE ! I HAVE T IME . A T LAST , I HAVE T IME !
    Albert backed away nervously.
    “And now that you have it, what are you going to do with it?” he said.
    Death mounted his horse.
    I AM GOING TO SPEND IT .

    The party was in full swing. The banner with the legend “Goodebye Windle 130 Gloriouse Years” was drooping a bit in the heat. Things were getting to the point where there was nothing to drink but the punch and nothing to eat but the strange yellow dip with highly suspicious tortillas and nobody minded . The wizards chatted with the forced jolliness of people who see one another all day and are now seeing one another all evening.
    In the middle of it all Windle Poons sat with a huge glass of rum and a funny hat on his head. He was almost in tears.
    “A genuine Going-Away party!” he kept muttering. “Haven’t had one of them since old ‘Scratcher’ Hocksole Went Away,” the capital letters fell into place easily, “back in, mm, the Year of the Intimidating, mm, Porpoise. Thought everyone had forgotten about ’em.”
    “The Librarian looked up the details for us,” said the Bursar, indicating a large orangutan who was trying to blow into a party squeaker. “He also made the banana dip. I hope someone eats it soon.”
    He leaned down.
    “Can I help you to some more potato salad?” he said, in the loud deliberate voice used for talking to imbeciles and old people.
    Windle cupped a trembling hand to his ear.
    “What? What?”
    “More! salad! Windle?”
    “No, thank you.”
    “Another sausage, then?”
    “What?”
    “Sausage!”
    “They give me terrible gas all night,” said Windle. He considered this for a moment, and then took five.
    “Er,” shouted the Bursar, “do you happen to know what time—?”
    “Eh?”
    “What! Time?”
    “Half past nine,” said Windle, promptly if