It had been half an hour since a man in black had arrived on his doorstep to tell Hank that he was dead. It was six in the morning, and he was groggy from being woken up. Now, in an ever growing silence, the Man in Black sat on the sofa while Hank sat across from him in an armchair. The Man in Black ate the mints out of the bowl Hank kept on his coffee table. Hank stared at the cross on his wall for the longest time until he spoke up.

“Are you Satan?”

“No.” the Man in Black said, unwrapping his sixth mint.

“Who are you then?” Hank asked. Dammit, his voice cracked.

“The Grim Reaper, an angel, a mailman, a guy. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” Hank decided the “Man in Black” felt like a fitting title. A wrapper fell out of the Man’s sleeve. He was on his seventh mint.

“Why should I believe that I’m dead?” Hank asked. “I don’t feel dead.”

“If you go into your bedroom, you’ll find your body in your bed. You died in your sleep. Plus, you look disgusting right now. You have to be dead.” At this, Hank instinctively touched his face. It did seem to have a sweaty, porous feel to it. And his skin appeared yellow, like brittle paper. His discomfort made him more defensive.

“Are you eating mints because your breath smells rotten or something?” The Man in Black looked up, and put down what would be his eighth mint. They had barely made eye contact in that half an hour, and the intensity of the man’s gaze now made Hank want to squirm. He looked familiar, but the Man’s blue eyes and blonde hair weren’t enough for Hank to place him. He was younger than Hank, probably in his twenties; but Hank didn’t know anyone in their twenties. Everyone he knew was his age.

“No. My breath is fine. I just like the Life Saver mints. They don’t have that burning minty feeling.” the Man in Black said.

“Yeah, it is more of a sweet mint flavor.”

“Right? And they’re just nice quality. Better than those cheap melt in your mouth peppermints.”

“Oh, of course. They’re definitely worth the extra dollar. Now, sorry to change the topic, but if I’m dead, why are you here? I don’t know the procedure for this. Do I give you coins and get into a boat? Am I supposed to combust at any moment? Or do I reincarnate?”

“That stuff doesn’t matter,” The Man in Black said. “Right now you have some unfinished business, though. That’s why I’m here. I’m like your afterlife therapist.”

“Wait, will I go to heaven or hell?”

“Who gives a shit, dude? You’re dead. The afterlife isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. But based off of that cross on your wall, I’d say you’re a good pal of my friend Jesus Christ. You’ll probably get to heaven.”

“You know Jesus?”

“Yeah, sure. He’s one of my favorites. Not like any of those Greek gods. He’s just so down to earth.”

“Wait, do all of the religions exist?”

“Why not? It’s like that Oprah Winfrey show when she gives stuff away to the audience. You get eternity, you get eternity, everybody gets an eternity!” The Man in Black said. Hank leaned back in his chair. This Man didn’t seem to be a very credible source.

“Weird,” Hank said, suspending his disbelief. “We’ll roll with it. What about this unfinished business stuff?”

“Yes, well, that’s why I’m here. You have a lot of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hank, you’re mid-fifties-ish and you died alone in your sleep from probably a heart attack. I know you were married to a woman named Eleanor for a long time, but she died a few years ago and you don’t seem to have moved on at all. It looks like a lot of her stuff is still around. I’m assuming those are her embroideries on the wall.”

“How do you know about Norrie?” Hank asked. The Man gestured to his black robe. Right, the omnipotent ‘Grim Reaper’.

“Why haven’t her things been moved? Her embroideries haven’t even been dusted.”

Hank looked around his home. The Man in Black was right. He hadn’t dared touched any of Norrie’s things after she died. The blender that she made her morning smoothies in was still in its corner next to the coffee pot. Her running shoes were by the front door, and her slippers were by the couch. Her embroideries were on every wall, collecting dust, like the Man said.

“I can’t bring myself to touch her things. I lived with her for twenty-nine years. It’s hard to break that kind of routine.”

“That’s a really long time. How old were you when you met?”

“I met Eleanor when I was twenty-two. I was a folk singer playing in a bar and she was in the audience. I couldn’t stop looking at her. She looked like Maya Deren. You know what she looks like? Think a young Barbra Streisand but with less nose.”

“Yeah, sure, Maya Deren. Barbra Streisand. Got it.”

“Right.” Hank said. He could tell the man had no idea who he was talking about but he didn’t care. Anytime he talked about Norrie he just couldn’t stop. “Anyways, Norrie kind of looked like her, but Norrie was something else. Your every day good Christian girl, except hanging out in trashy bars just trying to find some good folk music. She was perfect for me. When I met her that night I told her I was going to marry her.”

“Wow. That’s really something. It warms my heart, but it’s been years Hank. She died, she left, but you acted as if she never did.” The insincerity made Hank furious.

“It’s been more than a couple years! It’s not like she had a sudden death. She got so sick, so weak. She hadn’t been herself in a long time. She had friends, family, and an entire church praying for her, and look what happened. She still died. What kind of God does that?” That’s the part he just couldn’t get over. How unfair it all was.

“I have no idea dude. But I agree, it’s awful. I can’t give you answers, but do you really think that your God gave her cancer? That doesn’t sound too New Testament to me.” The Man in Black put air quotes around ‘New Testament’. Hank wanted to pull out and roll his eyes.

“He certainly didn’t take her cancer away.” Another silence ensued. Hank didn’t feel like checking to see how much time had passed this time. The Man in Black fidgeted with a mint wrapper. The mannerism seemed familiar. The Man weaved the wrapper between his fingers.

“Who do you think was in more pain after it happened?” The Man in Black asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Who was in more pain after Eleanor died? You, or her?”

Hank paused. He didn’t like this question.

“Me,” he said.

“Right. What do you think happened to her? I can tell you right now she didn’t have any of this unfinished business garbage.”

Hank ignored the ‘garbage’ comment. The Man in Black stared at him, waiting for an answer.

“Come on, Hank. What happened to her? I know you used to go to church. You’ve still got that cross on your wall.” The Man said. Hank hadn’t been to church in years.

“I really mainly went to church because Norrie was a Christian.”

“Okay, well you still went. You know how the faith works. I know Norrie was a good, good person. What do you think happened to her, Hank?” The Man in Black leaned over the coffee table and the mint wrappers spilled to the floor. All seven of them. Hank spent a moment counting them before he finally answered.

“She was saved.”

“Saved from what?”

“Her sin, her sickness, I don’t know. But she believed, so had to have been saved. That’s written somewhere, that you’ll be saved by grace through faith. And she had it. She had the faith.”

“Yeah that’s written in the Bible and on one of her embroideries over there. ‘We will pass from death to life because we have loved one another’. Do you think that’s what happened to Norrie?”

“Yeah,” Hank said. “I have to think that. If I don’t believe in something, then what’s the point?”

“Now you get it.” The Man in Black let out a deep breath and leaned back. “Even after all of this angry grief, what do you know, you’re still a believer. Surprise, Hank, you’re a Christian.”

“What if I’m not?”

“Then it would be really stupid of you to have a cross on your wall as well as the embroideries of Bible verses everywhere.” the Man said while he picked up the fallen mint wrappers. Hank watched him. He did know him; he was sure of it. Maybe it was something as simple as seeing him in the grocery store, or a McDonalds, or even a car passing him on the highway.

“How do I know you?” Hank asked. The Man ignored him.

“So, are you like, ready to go? Because pretty soon we might start smelling your body.”

“Yeah, sure, I’m ready. Do I need any coins?”

“No, dude, forget about the coins and the boat. That’s a Greek thing.” The Man walked out the door. Hank really didn’t feel dead, he felt like he needed a shower. Still, he followed the man out.

“Now what?” Hank could tell that the Man in Black was a bit nervous. “Come on, kid. It was a good prank. Now tell me what’s really going on.”

“Now you start going to grief counseling.” The Man in Black said.

“Excuse me?”

“Hank, obviously you’re not really dead. I’m Rick, I don’t know if you remember, but I went to the same church that you and Eleanor did. You work with my uncle John. I’m an actor now. Uncle John thought I could help you with your grief. Your friends are worried about you, dude.” That’s what it was. He was John’s nephew Ricky. Hank stood in disbelief for a moment. What a peculiar thing for them to do, he thought. Hank couldn’t believe that he didn’t recognize the kid. Granted, he hadn’t seen him in years, but that was Hank’s fault. He used to see him every Sunday, now he couldn’t recall how many years it had been.

“Ricky. Of course you’re John’s nephew. The last time I saw you you had to have been in at least eighth grade. You’d sit in the pew and fold gum wrappers or fidget with mint wrappers the whole time.”

“I was wondering if the mints would give it away. You used to tell me that the crinkling was so loud it could be an instrument in the worship band.” Rick said.

“Yeah.” Hank laughed at the memory that seemed so familiar now.

“So, do you need a tip or anything?” he asked.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. You can have my card though if you want to recommend me to anyone.” Rick said, and dug through the pocket of his robe for the card. ‘Rick Graham: Acting Enthusiast’ it read. Definitely no Grim Reaper.

“I guess thanks man. Have a good rest of your day. I’ll see you Sunday?”

“For sure. I’ll tell uncle John you’ll be there too.” Rick said, before he departed.

Hank watched the kid leave. He should probably call John and tell him what exactly just happened with Rick. Hank couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. When he went back inside, he unplugged Norrie’s blender and placed it in a new spot in the cabinet. He got a box to put her running shoes, slippers, and other shoes from her closet into. Once he got more things together he could bring them to Goodwill or something. This didn’t seem like a bad place to start.