A layover in Ataturk Airport is quiet. The restaurants are all closed–not the bars, but I’ve already drunk myself to sleep once.
I sit outside Gate 227A; it’s close to the smoking room. I look down the row of seats to find a middle-aged Indian man half-way through a bar of snickers, laughing. I look around him and find DEATH sitting in the seat beside with the face of someone who feels as though they just told a rather good joke. I frown at her.
“What?” she mouths, catching my eye. I shrug and lean back, arms crossed. I see her from the side. She gets up and pats the Indian man on the leg, says something. He nods, continuing to chuckle.
She walks over to me, swaying a bit, sits.
She rolls her eyes. “Are you jealous?”
She crosses her arms, mocking. I let mine down.
DEATH starts to whistle.
I glare at her. “Knock it off.”
She whistles louder, then stops. “Are you going to stop pouting?”
I nod. “Do you talk to everyone?” I ask.
“Does he see you the same way I do, like, as a little white girl?”
DEATH frowns, “yeah.”
“Doesn’t that bother him?”
DEATH looks over at the Indian man. He is dozing off with a light smile.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
I watch him too, jealous.
“Well, have you always been this way?”
“Huh,” I say, without meaning to. Then, “why?”
She seems to actually be thinking about it, then throws up her hands, “someone’s idea of a sick joke it seems.”
“Who?” I ask, before I can stop myself, knowing her answer. She knows, I know, and so, says nothing.
I move on, “what about like aliens, and stuff?”
“There are no aliens,” DEATH says, simply. I look out of the big wall of windows, up.
DEATH shrugs, “how the hell would I know?”
“I thought you took everyone?”
“Maybe death isn’t so damn important to everyone as it is to you people,” she mumbles. Her eye’s tilt a bit. I look her over, suspicious.
“Are you drunk?”
She nods, “why aren’t you?”
I shrug, “already drank myself to sleep once.”
“Oh, what a surprise,” she goads.
I laugh. “Want to have a cigarette?”
She nods again. She grabs onto my arm for support and we tip-toe past the sleeping Indian man.