The timing can't be worse. 

I look around the outlet marketplace from the bench my sister and I are resting on. There’s a crowd of over twenty people here in the outlet mall. A group of 4 girls laugh about their recent purchases. 3 different families either play with their kids or watch them run around in the play-pen. 2 sets of couples walk opposite of each other, and one of them argues. The guy can’t stop gawking at the group of girls passing by. And lastly, a lone woman sits at a bench across from us, reading the ads from the shops that surround us. 

As I play with my hair, I analyze the activity for no small purpose. After all, it’s to figure out which of these 23 people will die. 

It hasn’t been long since my heart skipped a beat. I’ll have to solve this quickly. 

I can’t believe I have to search for a solution to this dilemma while also needing an answer to my own personal problem at the same time. 

“Aaaaly,” my sister squeals, “What do ya think she’d like!?”

I rub the bridge of my nose, annoyed. She’s been asking me the same question for 2 hours straight. I furiously wrap my hair around my fingers and let the strands go slack as I reel them back onto my fingers again. My brain isn’t ready for a riddle and a find-it challenge at the same time today.

I reply to her with my go to— a touch of sarcasm. “Jee, I don’t know, Sarah. It’s not like I didn’t point out 11 different gifts in 15 different stores.”

“Well… those weren’t good enough!”

“Sarah, wouldn’t you know what she’d like best?” I say with a joking nudge, “Why do you keep asking me? She’s your mother after all.” 

That was a fact. It was her mother. Not mine. 

“Come on now, it’s her 40th birthday! I just want to make it special!”

I sigh heavily to relieve my annoyance. It’s time to get this over with. “Fine, let’s just go over it for the hundredth time today; what does she like?”

Sarah puts her finger to her lip to think before speaking, “She likes dresses over pants. She hates bracelets but loves rings and necklaces. She likes dazzling things but prefers comfort over beauty and practicality over novelty. If she could have all of the above, I know she’d be excited!” Sarah grumbles as she tries to think harder, like she forgot something, “Oh, and she likes the color orange! We have to think really hard about this, Aly!” She continues to fervently look at the surrounding shops for anything interesting.

I sigh, “I think I’ve found your problem Sarah, you keep trying to look for all of that in one gift…”

She groans and I go back to thinking. 

Alright, what could be a dress, or a ring, or a necklace that’s comfortable and practical, and possibly orange? AND while I’m at it, which random person could possibly die in an accident today?

As I twirl my curly dark hair loading some thoughtful results, the same HotRod model that’s been going around the parking lot for the past 2 laps comes by yet again. Looking at the driver, he seems to be on his phone. 

What a jerk, I think to myself, that must be why he hasn’t found a parking space;though, he’s passed by 4 of them already with 2 cars currently leaving their spots behind him. 

Just as the car passes I see them and my blood runs cold. 

Time’s almost up. I have to think fast. 

Two shadowy proponents of the End come to a stop and stand at the crosswalk of the parking lot. With these shadows come a fated death, one shadow for each soul that’s about to be taken. That's how it’s always been since I’ve been able to see them…. 

Though they are agents of Death who usually claim the souls of the ones who perish, I can change the outcome. I can interfere and save them from their morbid fate. I just need to figure out who it’s going to be and what’s going to happen, then no one has to die today. 

I look back at the crowded marketplace of both young and old. Who could possibly die here today?! Which 2?! And how?! 

I lean forward and run through everything again. Despite the headache, I can’t let things happen this way. An accident is inevitable but death doesn’t have to be the result!

Let’s see…

The group of four girls from before begin heading towards the parking lot. 

One particular father and his son in the crowd of families are playing catch with a big red ball. It doesn’t look heavy. Maybe if he… No, I don’t think the father would let his son die if he keeps an eye on him.

 The couple that was fighting earlier separate loudly. The boyfriend holds up his hands in defeat as his girlfriend storms away, leaving him with just two words, “YOU JERK!” 

The woman reading the ad places it on the bench to look in her purse for something. 

Who could it be?! What could happen?! 

Just then, a gentle breeze picks up and my long curly hair is taken up with the wind. And once more, I see the HotRod go around the back lines of cars in the parking lot, missing two open spaces yet again. He’s going to come back around…

Wait. Could that be it? That's got to be it! 

Great! I know how but who?

Spontaneously the winds of spring pick up some more— this time it’s no gentle breeze, it’s a heavy gust of wind. Sarah wraps herself tighter in her jacket and crosses her uncovered legs. I have to shield myself from the unrelenting blast of wind. Wishing I had tied my hair back today, I try to keep my eyes open to look for any signs of endangerment. And that's when I see it!

The ad that the woman placed on the bench gets picked up by the ferocious  wind and flies right into the face of the father that was playing with his son. The wind also pushes the ball as it arcs in mid air. It falls to the ground to bounce and roll into the path of the boyfriend that pissed off his girlfriend. The “Jerk” kicks it. 

Because he kicked the ball against the wind, the ball doesn’t go far. Instead it lands and rolls as it passes the group of girls heading towards the parking lot. Just as the wind starts to calm, a paper bag of theirs tears. One of the girls puts out a leg to catch the garment before it falls to the ground but she inadvertently kicks the ball into the street. And surely enough, the kid is running after the ball as everyone’s eyes start to follow from the kid; to the ball; to the street.

Knowing where the tragedy will land I look around the bench for anything useful. I know I won’t reach him in time on foot. So, I reach down and pick up a rock from under the bench. I set the pitch and throw it!

The HotRod from earlier comes around yet again. 

The kid steps into the street. 

The father finally tears the paper from his face and looks for his son. 

Make it!!!

The kid grabs the ball and stands directly in front of the shadows. 

The child turns to see the car coming. 

I smile.

The rock smashes into the windshield and a web of cracks glaze across the glass. 

My calculations were correct. 

The driver looks up and wildly swerves to his left, crashing into a parked Chariot model setting off its alarm. That should do more than teach him a lesson.

Sarah jolts up from her seat, “Oh my divine! Did ya see that, Aly?” She turns to me and tilts her head, “Whatcha doin’?”

I forgot to get out of my post-pitching stance. 

“Uh, nothing.” 

Just then, I found the answer to our other problem. “Sarah, I think I know what we should get her. Let’s get her two of her favorite things rather than one.” 

I point over to a store that sells just about every apparel. In the window it shows an ad for an orange jeweled necklace and on another shows a new pair of shoes. 

I grab her hand and lead her over to the store, fleeing from the scene. “Come on!”

I look back at the car where the father and the son embrace one another, “What have I told you about crossing the street without me!”

I look over to the shadows that seem to have retreated away from the scene. As I look at them, I feel a sense of familiarity as one of them seems to stare back at me but then fades from existence. 

I smile to myself. 

Accidents are unavoidable but I can always change fate.