1 Ringing Bells

Marjoe was six years old when it happened for the first time. He was sitting on the floor with his elder brother Yuma while they flipped through an old book with silly tales about gods and dragons and other creatures that some person made up a long time ago. Yuma always said that the people from the past just had a way too active imagination. That they wasted their time dreaming up ridiculous stories instead of working and that that was the reason why now there were only so few people left. Marjoe always laughed and nodded, but in secret, he loved the crazy tales about monsters and heroes, about love and tragedy.

His mother, on the other hand, didn't approve of the books Yuma frequently brought home. She deemed the stories to be silly fantasies that could have only been made up by crazies and lunatics. Even Marjoe had to admit some of the stories were a bit absurd. Especially the one that talked about buildings that touched the clouds or about giant metal birds that swallowed hundreds of peoples and flew them to foreign lands to spit them out again. Cold fire that was trapped in a glass bulb to light up rooms. Some even talked about cities so large that it took hours to walk from one end to another.

There were dozens of these odd stories, one more unbelievable than the previous. But the strangest thing for Marjoe was that none of them featured The Undertaker.

The book they were flipping through now was a heavy one with a lot of large maps. Maps of how the people thought the world looked like. Marjoe found the book very pretty. It was full of colors with lots of lines and circles and tiny letters in between.

They were arguing over a land called Africa – that Yuma said looked like a horse head, but Marjoe said it didn't – when they heard the town bells ringing.

Never before had Marjoe heard the sound of the enormous bell that hung in the middle of the town square. He had always wondered what they sounded like and at the same time, hoped that he would never have to find out. Because when these bells were heard, it could only mean one thing.

The deep and rich sound seemed to vibrate through his whole body and drowned out any other noise. Panic broke out throughout the town. Feet pounded on the street, doors, and windows were slammed shut, and aggravated cries sounded in the air:

"He's coming! He's coming! The Undertaker!"

Marjoe's mother jumped to her feet, thoughtlessly dropping her knitting. She grabbed the arms of both of her boys and dragged them urgently to their feet so that Marjoe accidentally tore a page from the book.

"Ow, mom! You are hurting me!" he wined while his mother shoved them into the next room.

"Shh, be quiet, Joey," Yuma said, who understood how dire the situation really was.

Their mother pushed them onto the bed and then went back to the door.

"Close the shutters and the door and make absolutely no sound! Do you understand?"

But even before Marjoe or Yuma could answer or let alone ask any questions, she had already left the tiny bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Marjoe turned around to face his brother.

"Yuma, what's happening?" he asked, not understanding what all the alarm was about.

"I told you the story about the Undertaker before, haven't I?" Yuma asked while he clumsily closed the window shutters.

Joey nodded because, of course, Yuma had. And so had almost everybody else in the small town that was now still filled with panicked shouts. There had been a couple of different versions, and some that were so exaggerated that they almost sounded like fairy tales. But one thing had always been the same: The Undertaker took the death.

"I still don't get why everybody's acting dumb."

Yuma rolled his eyes

"Well, because he takes the dead, idiot!"

"Yeah, I know. But isn't that good? I mean, what would we do with them anyway?"

Yuma, who was mature enough to understand death, spun around and glared at his naive little brother.

"To collect a body, there needs to be one in the first place. And for that, somebody needs to die first," Yuma explained as slowly as possible so his dim-witted brother would understand it.

"Oh, so the Undertaker only comes when somebody dies?"

"Exactly, Joey. He comes to town, and the same day somebody dies."

Marjoe scratched the underside of his chin.

"And who is it?"

Yuma sighed and plopped down on the bed.

"That's the whole problem, really. Usually, nobody really knows who is going to die. If nobody is already really old or sick, it could be pretty much everybody."

"So, did he also take our dad?"

Yuma turned his head away from Joe and stared up to the ceiling. After a long moment of silence, he nodded slowly.

"I can barely remember it to be honest." He patted the bed next to him, so Marjoe climbed up and lay down next to his brother.

"He was very sick, you know. So everybody knew why the Undertaker came, which probably made it easier for everybody."

"What did he look like?" Marjoe asked the question that he had wanted to ask for a long time.

"Who? Dad?"

Joey shook his head.

"Na-ah. The Undertaker."

Yuma just shrugged his shoulders.

"Dunno," he said, fainting disinterest.

"Oh come on, Yuma. You must have seen him!"

"I have really no idea! Besides, I was only four years old. So it's not like I can remember anything anyway."

"But you remember Dad, don't you?"

"Gee, Joey, just shut up, Ok?"

They were both quiet for a while, just listening to the booming sound of the bell that was still ringing loudly through every alley of the small town.

Finally, it was Yuma who broke the silence.

"What have you got there, Joey?" he asked, pointing at the page that Marjoe had accidentally ripped from the book. It was now crinkled pretty severely, and part of the map was missing, but the map on it was still recognizable. Yuma snatched the page from his little before he carefully flattened the old, yellowish paper on the mattress. To Marjoe, it just looked like another blotch of color, but Yuma's eyes lit up in recognition.

"It's America," he said like it was supposed to mean something. He turned the page around so that Joey could study it as well and then looked at him expectantly.

"Mhh, Ok. So… it's like an island."

Yuma snorted like it was the silliest thing he had heard all day and shook his head.

"It's a continent, dummy."

Marjoe scrunched up his nose, not happy about the insult.

"So, where is the difference then? Because it looks like an island to me."

"A continent is like a quadrillion times bigger!" Yuma said, throwing up his arms.

"That's not even a real number," Marjoe almost shouted, getting fed up with his brother being a smartass.

The argument would have escalated further if their mother hadn't stormed into their room with a panicked expression on her face.

"Is everything Ok?" she asked, sounding almost hysterical.

"Of course, mom. Everything is alright." Yuma sat up in bed and smiled at their mother.

"Yes, yes, of course." Their mother shook her head and went to her knees in front of her sons.

"Listen, kids. Conrad Norvic went into the forest this morning, and I promised him to watch over his kids if anything were to happen. So you need to be quiet and not open the door for anybody but me. Do you understand?"

Yuma nodded earnestly. Marjoe, however, gleamed happily at his mother.

"Does that mean Susanna and Danny are coming over?"

His mother looked at him with a solemn expression, not linking his happy tone. Someone was about to die after all.

"Yes, they are. But you two need to behave while I'm gone, understood?"

Again, both of the boys nodded. Their mother gave both of them a kiss and left, leaving Marjoe and Yuma in their cozy bedroom.