Part 3
"Charlie Daniels! As I live and breath! Come on in; have a seat," she beamed, gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk.
Still in the doorway, I managed a weak chuckle as I took a few cautious steps in.
Her office was rather...normal.
The dark finish of all the wood was overwhelming, but other than that you couldn't tell the difference between her office and one belonging to a lawyer. The walls were covered in shelves, which were in turn covered in layer upon layer of books. The space was sparsely adorned with decoration: a few framed paintings on the wall, what looked to be a Japanese peace lily near the windows, and a solitary grandfather clock along the wall.
As I pulled a chair back, she started toward her desk.
"I'm going to assume you have no idea why you're here, right?" She tossed a wink in to seal the congenial deal.
She was dressed professionally: light cream colored pant suit (the blazer hung from the back of her chair), a light peach blouse buttoned to the top, no jewelry, and her dark hair spilling loosely down her shoulders.
"Urmm..." I blurted.
"I thought not. Let's get down to it, huh Charlie? Can I call you Charlie? That's not too forward, is it?"
She flattened her hands on the top of her desk, looking through her eyebrows into me.
"Yeah, that's alright...I—"
Before I could finish, she stood up suddenly. Her eyes flashed from brown to green in that moment.
"Charlie, I'll be forward: you're not here for a reason. Meaning: you're not dead on purpose. I didn't do it, and The Old Man didn't do it. You're not supposed to be here, and for that we're sorry."
Green, to blue.
"Charlie, we're sending you back. That's what this is about."
Blue, to— I don't know what.
"Back? Back to—" I stammered.
"Let's not be coy: you're getting another shot at life. We overlooked you while you were present. It was a pretty big oversight— I'll be the first to admit it. You're kind of a big deal among the board members, you know? From what we DO know, you were the—
...uhh... just one minute—
STELLA!
How many kids did The Old Man send up again!?" She roared as her office doors flung wide.
"Just two, ma'am!" answered Poshy, rather politely it seemed.
As the doors slammed shut Lucy boomed a quick, "Thank you!"
"—third coming of 'His Son'. Now, contrary to popular belief 'The Savior' is of neither mine, nor The Old Man's influence. 'The Savior' is a being created independent of both our influences to decide the true nature of men. Follow?" She raised an eyebrow.
"...Well—" I started (but never really did).
"After this conversation you'll be reinstalled in the world with no recollection of any of this. You'll be you, but alive again. You'll be free to make your own choices, and all that good stuff. There's just one thing we need before it happens."
"W—we?"
"The royal 'we'. Us."
"And that is?"
"We need you to show us how to be."