Linda jumped and squealed upon seeing the strange woman in her apartment.

“Whothefuckareyou?” she gasped, suddenly realizing she was naked, jumping around the corner, peeking around because she did not want the mysterious woman to try whatever bullshit she was going to try.

“Linda Kay, I have been waiting for you to realize,” the woman said calmly in a slightly posh British accent. “I intend you no harm.”

“What the fuck did you do with Angel?”

The woman smiled sadly and shook her head. “I did nothing with her. It was ... something else.” The woman sighed slowly. “I can only properly tell you so much right now, except she is in a more proper place, a place more appropriate for her.”

“I think we were falling in love,” Linda said with a low rumble out of the back of her throat. “Not much of a better place than THAT!” she snapped. “Give her back.”

“I cannot do that,” the woman said. “She has been dead for a very long time. She shall not return.” She paused. “In time, you will most likely see her again, but not in this Earthly realm.”

Linda gulped. “You say she is dead.” She paused for a moment, thinking, moving from behind the wall despite her nudity. “I ... why do you keep saying that? Why did she say that? How could she be with me and be dead? It was all so real.”

“I cannot explain right now. Right now, things are too fresh and too confusing for you. I don’t think your mind can quite take what I will eventually tell you.” Linda opened her mouth to protest, but the other woman held her hand up for silence. “I know you think differently, but your mind is ablaze with questions, confusion, disbelief, incomprehension. Your mind is as clear as your eyesight,” she said with a small, friendly smile.

Linda moved forward a little more. “How do you know about my eyesight?”
“It is my job.”

“And ... what is your job?”

The woman again shook her head. “That will also come with time. What you need to know right now is that your friend, your lover, is indeed dead and has been dead for quite some time, and your actions today helped her go to where she was supposed to go most wonderfully and happily.”

“Well, I sure as fuck am not fucking happy about it!”

“I understand. But eventually, I hope to change that point of view.” The woman gracefully stood and took a few steps towards Linda, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. Linda, despite herself, found it immediately soothing. She felt relaxed.

“I ... I ... I...” Linda looked down. Despite her attempts to focus, her mind was relaxing. “I am suddenly drained.”

The other woman nodded, putting her other hand on Linda’s side. “I know, dear. You have been through a lot today. Perhaps laying down would be for the best for a little while?”

Linda half nodded, and half shook her head. “I ... I ... I...” The room gave a little spin. She rubbed her eyes, closing them for a moment but finding no relief upon opening them again. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I need a lay down.”

With the other woman’s help, she turned towards the bedroom, feeling groggy.

Her eyes caught the still latched door.

“Wait,” she paused, slightly slurring her words. “How did you get in here? The door was latched.”

The woman smiled, gently pushing her towards the bedroom. “One of my many tricks I will explain later,” she said.

“Wait, how did Angel get in here if the door was locked...”

The woman chuckled. “A simple lock cannot stop those no longer alive.”

“I ... I ... I ... I’m bewildered.” She took a few steps and fell into the bed, face first. “I feel like I am drunk or something,” she said, voice muffled by the blankets.

She almost immediately fell into a deep sleep.

When she awoke again, the world outside was still bright—or had turned dark and bright again—for all she knew. It could have been done so many times.

Her head was more straightforward.

She was still naked.

Her head lay in the lap of the mystery woman in the tight green business dress, who softly stroked her head. The woman smelled good.

Linda blinked her eyes a couple of times, trying to get the world into focus. The woman handed her glasses. That helped.

Linda pulled a pillow to herself, covering herself. “Not that you haven’t already seen the goods,” she said with a little mumble.

The woman smiled. “I have, but if it makes you more comfortable, I will leave the room so you can get yourself more appropriate. I would urge it, as I intend to take you on a little walk and explain things more to you.”

“Where are we going?”

The woman shrugged as she stood and walked gracefully to the door. “Nowhere in particular. If you are interested in the bike path, we should go there. It is not a specific physical destination we seek, but a mental one.” She smiled again and went out the door, closing it behind her.

Linda did feel more refreshed as she put on some clothes. However, she once again found herself overthinking which race shirt to wear before choosing.

She found her heart still aching. It was still empty, missing a piece it had just seen. She sat on the edge of the bed, sniffling softly to herself, burying her head in her hands for a moment before collecting herself and walking into the living room.

A dish of yogurt, toast, and grapes, along with a cup of her favorite tea, awaited her. The woman sat again in the easy chair, smiling softly at Linda as she walked into the room.

“I know you will say you have no appetite, but I believe you must eat,” the woman said softly.

Linda nodded, brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, and nibbled on a corner of toast. There was cinnamon on it as well. She took a sip of tea. Honey had been put in it.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, eating slowly, her mind in soft turmoil.

As she ate, Linda snuck glances at the woman. She could not determine her age at all, but she seemed a bit older than her, in her mid-50s. She wore her blonde hair in a tight bun, making it impossible for Linda to tell its length.

She dressed immaculately, but there were no wrinkles in the dress. Though very tight and form-fitting, the dress tasted perfect. Even though the blossom was low cut, a light red shirt covered anything inappropriate. She wore little, if any, makeup, allowing her natural beauty to shine through. Only a couple of very slight lines wore laugh lines at the side of her mouth. The rest of her face was almost flawless, with bright green eyes that held onto her soul, soothing it as she ate.

“Who are you?” Linda blurted out.

The woman chuckled. “It has been almost twenty hours, and I have not told you, my name. I am Grace.”

“Fuck! What day is it? I think I have to go to work!” She reached for her phone to check her work schedule.

Grace laid a friendly hand on top of hers. “I have taken care of that. If you do not mind my doing so, I have ensured your days at retail have ended.”

Linda swallowed hard. “How?” she cocked her head. “Are you a lawyer? You look like a lawyer.”

Grace chucked. “I assure you I am not a lawyer. No, I ... come to provide you an opportunity. But it will require quite a bit of explaining. A lot of time.”

Linda sighed and sipped her tea. “That is something I have plenty of.” She took another sip. “Money is not something I have plenty of.”

“As a prepayment for future services, I have deposited an amount into your bank account, which I believe will erase any financial concerns you might have for quite some time.”

Linda reached for her phone again, waiting for Linda to lay her hand over hers again. That did not happen. She opened her bank account application. Her eyes bulged. “Fuck me sideways,” she whispered. She looked up. “D-Ced. That is, you?”

Angel nodded.

Linda looked at the phone again, her mind swimming. “That is a lot of money. I’ve never had that much money, not in my life.” She waved the phone. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable with this.”

“Consider it a down payment for future services rendered.”

“How do you know I can ... render the services? Are you sure you are not a lawyer? Is this money from Angel or something?”

Grace smiled and shook her head. “It is not money from Angel.” She stood. “Come. Let us walk.”

The fresh air felt good. Most of the sky was blue, though a few clouds dotted the sky here and there, enough to cover the sun, which was good for Linda’s eyes. It would be a hot one today, again, but this morning did not feel too bad.

“Not a lot of traffic for a Saturday. Are you sure I am OK with work?”

Grace nodded. “I took the liberty to call them while you were asleep. I hope you do not mind.”

Linda sighed. “I have been at that job for almost 20 years, but I sure as fuck was not married to it.” She winced. “Sorry about my potty mouth sometimes.”

Grace smiled. “It is quite all right. You do it when you are only comfortable with someone or quite outraged. We have passed the outraged stage, so I can only assume you are growing comfortable with me.”

“We have not known each other for 24 hours yet ... yet...” Linda shrugged. “I guess I am sort of comfortable. There is ... something about you.”

Grace smiled again and held her hand as the two strolled on the bike path, drinking in the natural surroundings. Linda felt the calm come over her again.

“It is part of what I do.” Grace chuckled a little bit. “And I hate to inform you, it is Wednesday.”

Linda stopped, her eyes growing wide. “I slept until Wednesday. Fuck! My rent is due!”

Grace smiled and pulled her hand to continue walking. “Took care of that.”

“Why are you doing this for me?’ Linda asked. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I know enough about you,” Grace said. “It is my job to know prospects before the time comes. I have been watching you for a while, studying you. I do hope that is not too creepy.”

Linda chuckled. “Any other circumstances, and it would be, I guess. But ... there is a lot to chew on here.”

Grace nodded and took her hand from Linda’s, reaching to her side and revealing a newspaper. She flipped it open and showed Linda a picture on the bottom of the front page.

It showed her apartment, with smoke coming out of it.

Linda started to open her mouth, but Grace held her hand up.

“That did not happen when you were asleep, which I believe would be your first question.” Linda nodded sheepishly. Grace turned the paper around, showing the banner header. “Look at the date.”

“Hm,” Linda said. “Yeah, before I moved in. Mabel said there had been a fire a few years before. Sometimes early on, I swear I could still smell smoke, but I guess they cleaned it out good enough after a while.” She handed the paper back. “But what does that have to do with me?”

Grace flipped the paper in the air a couple of times. The headlines on the front page had changed. She showed Linda the date again. Twelve days later.

“How did you do that?”

“Another trick of the trade,” Grace said, turning a few pages, folding the paper, and handing it to Linda.”

Linda felt a lump grow in her throat. Her eyes went right to an obituary for Angela Mavers. “Angel?” she asked weakly.

Grace nodded. “Angel.”

Linda looked back at the paper. “It ... it doesn’t say anything about how she died. The fire?”

Grace nodded again. “She was asleep when a tenant downstairs started a large, smokey grease fire. Extensive damage was done to the apartment building. Grace never woke up before succumbing to the smoke.” She cleared her throat. “Her body was not discovered until ten days later when work was to be done on her apartment.”

Linda’s heart sank. “Oh, my, that is terrible,” she said quietly. She looked at the paper. “Eighteen. So young. I thought she looked young but seemed to know so much.” She sighed. “Wow,” she said quietly, sitting on a brick wall.

Grace sat beside her, touching her arm. It gave her warmth. “She had been in that apartment for almost 20 years,” she said quietly. “Her ... mental being had been there during that time, if you will.”

“Her spirit?’ Linda asked weakly.

Grace grimaced. “I never did like that word, spirit, but I guess if it gives you comfort...”

Linda looked down at her folded hands. “I guess it doesn’t. Her mental being, then. Or her being? How about that?”

Grace nodded. “I do like that and use it sometimes. Her being.” She let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Her being was active at different times, inactive at other times. Her inactivity usually came when someone else was living in the apartment.”

“So ... did you ever try to ... move her? I mean, move her to that other place she just went to ... whatever it is? Heaven? Hell?”

“I am not fond of the words heaven nor hell, either” Grace said, wrapping an arm around Linda and pulling her closer. Linda laid her head on Grace’s shoulder, feeling increasingly comfortable with her touch.

“Yeah, me too. Never was a believer.”

“Yes. Quiet,” Grace said brightly. “Anyway, no, I did not try to help her move as I am unable to. It takes a special person with special talents to do so.” She rubbed Linda’s arm. “Someone such as you.”

Linda continued looking at her hands. She thought about Angel, about her joyful time with Angel, and about losing Angel. She also realized that, in looking at her hands, her hands were the only things she could see, with everything else lost to fuzz and static. “I sure don’t feel like I have any special talents,” she mumbled, waving absent-mindedly at her eyes.

“That is a part of your talent,” Grace said. “The retinitis pigmentosa ... it helps you see the others who need help. And it helps you help them.”

“I am not sure I follow.”

“I will explain later. It is quite a lot to explain. There is quite the learning curve with what I am to teach you, with what you are to do – if you accept, that is.”

Linda gulped. “Sounds foreboding.”

“It is an extraordinary talent you have and an extraordinary job for which it can be used. With that talent, you also have the persona to handle such a job, though you would not realize it now. Right now, the hurt from your loss is too great. Angel will always be with you; you will always be in love with her, but that will not stop you from handling your job.” She sighed, looking at Linda’s hands. “That word, job, it is not right. It is not a job. I guess it is a way of life for which you will be financially provided.”

“Now I am bewildered.”

Grace smiled. “It is pretty fucked up when explaining it to someone brand new, but I knew eventually you would grow to understand.”

The two laughed, hand in hand, slowly walking back to the apartment.

Linda was a quick learner, and Grace was a very apt instructor. She knew to take it easily and slowly.

First, she moved into the apartment with Linda, of course, with Linda’s permission. Three suitcases were all it took, all clothing and hygiene products.

“I assure you, not all of my wear is a business suit,” Grace said as she unpacked and hung her clothes in the large closet in the living room.

“And I don’t always necessarily sleep naked,” Linda cracked. She shrugged. “But sometimes it DOES get hot in this apartment...”

Grace laughed. “I will happily sleep in the easy chair, too,” she said.

“Will not hear of it!” Linda said. “The bed is more than big enough for the both of us.”

Sometimes, Linda thought the learning process went painfully slow. Grace used only a tablet, though sparingly. She relied on her words.

“So, am I liking a Grim Reaper or something?” Linda asked early on.

Grace shook her head. “You are a guide. The people you are guiding are already dead. However, they need assistance moving from this world to their next realm.”

“So, I am a ferryman. Or ferrywoman.”

Grace shook her head, then shrugged her shoulders. “No, but sort of. A proper ferryman does not see them physically on the other side. The deceased must do that themselves. But you do help them reach the point where they realize they are dead and need to move on.”

“So ... they don’t even know they are dead.”

“They do not. Most people you are working with are not aware of their passing after they are deceased. Yes, they may be aware they are dying now, but once death does take them over, they sometimes forget. Some realize by themselves that they are deceased but still need assistance reaching the other side. Others first need to be told they are deceased before they are helped to the other side.”

“So ... how do I tell them.’

“Many times, you can tell them without telling them. Remember what happened to Angel? She realized on her own. In many cases, it is like that, though some cases are more difficult,” she said, letting her voice trail off.

Days, weeks, and months, the teaching process continued.

“Are there a lot of guides?” Linda asked one day.

Grace shook her head. “Not really. About 12,000 over the world.”

“That does not seem like enough. So much death in the world...”

“Not everyone who dies needs a guide. Some people are aware they are dying, accept it, and go to the next stage willingly and quickly. We are here to work with harder cases.”

Another time, Linda asked, “So ... orgasms? That is how I introduce them to the next step.”

Grace nodded. “Sometimes, an orgasm is very much like the moment of death, a startling and breathtaking event. Centuries of studies have shown us this is the most effective method.”

“Centuries?”

Grace nodded again. “Our organization was formed during the late Grecian dynasty at about 300 BC. It took quite a while to become what it has, with a lot of self-learning and quite a few bumps and bruises. The Dark Ages were a callous time.” She giggled a little. “I have not been around for all of it, but I have done extensive research and quite a bit of studying to understand our past.”

“How do you keep it secret?”

“By not discussing it with the living. The dead cannot talk about our organization. Management, such as myself and the guides, are the only living people aware of it. No one else need knows.”

“Has anyone ever refused to be a guide?”

“I am sure there have been some here and there, but most are aware after training that they have this gift, how important it is, and wish to use it. Plus,” she grinned broadly. “There are the undeniable perks.”

Linda nodded. “I do like to cum,” she mused.

On another day, Grace told her, “Timing is of the essence, the orgasm. After much practice, you will be able to bring any woman or any man to orgasm instantly.”

“Like a delicious hooker or something.”

“Except they are not paying you.”

“Somebody is!” Linda said with a laugh.

“Fair enough,” Grace chuckled. “Anyway, the timing of your partner’s orgasm must coincide with the timing of your orgasm. That is crucial. I mean, you will have an eternity of chances to try and try again but getting it right early does cut down on extra work and paperwork.”

“Paperwork! You didn’t tell me there was fucking paperwork!”

“That was my cheap attempt at a joke,” Grace said with a slight smirk. “Anyway, an almost exact, simultaneous orgasm is very important. I say almost simultaneous since a perfectly simultaneous orgasm is statistically almost impossible. It would be best if you also always made eye contact with your partner. That was a lovely thing you did when looking into her eyes ... and it is also a crucial step. Also, as you know, not so easy.”

“Yeah, but it sure was a lot of fun.”

Even through the lessons, Linda continued to run. Eventually, Grace joined her, matching her pace perfectly.

“It has been quite some time since I have run,” Grace admitted. “I did miss it a lot.” she said as the two walked back to the apartment, sweat dripping from her body.

Linda found herself staring at her as they stood outside the building door. Her almost perfect body looked even lovelier in her tiny black running shorts and sports bra, sweat still dripping all over her body, the glistening of the sweat caught in the rising sunlight. Grace’s long blonde hair was wrapped in a ponytail, which she had lifted to let the breeze hit her neck.

She had become very fond of the woman, mentally and physically. She admitted neither.

Sometimes at night, Grace would snuggle up to her in bed, an unconscious move but one that still sent a warm, loving, calming electric feeling through her body. Sometimes, she would wake up in the morning, the pair wrapped in a sleepy hug that rested every inch of her body.

Linda was relieved that her landlord did not question her about her new roommate, but she sometimes wondered if Mabel had noticed the extra body.

Being in such an enclosed space, it was impossible not to be naked in front of the other. It took time, but eventually, Linda became more comfortable. Sometimes, she swore she would catch Grace gazing at her. She was sure Grace caught her looking at her body quite a few times.

Without explanation, Grace understood the importance of Linda’s self-pleasuring times. At different times of the day, Grace would leave the apartment for this chore or that while Linda played with herself until bringing herself to an orgasm or two. She often found her thoughts drifting to Grace, guilt wracking her mind – but not precisely stopping her.

After Grace returned from her errands, Linda would leave the apartment for a walk or a run to pay back the favor. Again, nothing was asked for, but it had been assumed. Many of those times, the smell of sex in the apartment was unmistakable, as were the disarrayed sheets.

“How do I find them?”

“You simply do,” Grace explained. “Others have told me it is a biological reactive sense that tells them there is someone who requires assistance. Visually, you will easily see that the person needs aid. That person is invisible to the rest of the living.”

“Can you see them?”

Grace shook her head. “My talents lie in other ways, not that.”

One evening, the pair walked through town, Grace holding Linda by the hand and guiding her. With the darkening world, she appreciated it.

“Without guides, the period after death can be too extended and turn into a tragic affair. Angel was nearing that period, poor dear,” she said quietly. “After too many years in this limbo state, one can turn into even a shell of their deceased self.”

She led Linda into an alley between two very old buildings that had probably stood for more than 150 years. She heard a soft moaning sound from behind an old, broken wall.

Tepidly, Linda approached the sound, looking back at Grace. Grace nodded.

“Are you coming with me?”

“I have seen this plenty of times.” She paused. “It is quite painful for me.”

Linda looked over the wall. On the other side was another woman, her clothes in tatters, her hair stringy. She was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees. She stared into space, into nothingness, a blank look on her face, moaning just loud enough in one continuous sound for Linda to hear.

Linda pulled closer. “Are you all right, hon?’ she asked quietly.

She received no answer.

She looked over her shoulder at Grace, who still stood afar.

“She was murdered about 130 years ago. At the time, the managers in this area were not so well organized. They let her slip before any guides could ever reach her. Attempts were made, though you can see they were unsuccessful.” She was silent for a moment. “One guide made multiple attempts and eventually lost his sanity, then his life,” she said quietly and sighed. She began walking away. “There are several thousands like this around the world, some of them quite ancient. Most stay hidden from view.” Linda stood and took her hand, following her out of the alleyway. Grace nodded back. “Believe it or not, she is one of the lucky ones.”

One evening after the lessons, the pair lay in bed together, arm in arm.

“There seems like so much to learn, so much which could go wrong.”

Grace shook her head. “It rarely goes wrong. I cannot name a time when it has. Yes, there have been failed simultaneous orgasm attempts, but eventually success was reached.”

Linda giggled. “You sound so ... professional about this. Like you are reading a documentary or something.” She continued her gaze at her instructor, then kissed her cheek quickly, almost immediately feeling guilty about the action.

Grace smiled. Linda felt her heart skip a beat when she saw that smile. “I have done this quite a few times, I guess. Though the circumstances are unique, it does help to remain professional. The company does respect that.”

Linda knitted her brow. “The Company? This is the first time I have used those words.”

“The organization is professionally put together. It is a company.”

“Is this for profit?”

Grace shook her head. “It is a government agency.”

Linda’s eyes shot up. “Government? No shit? Now I am impressed this has remained a secret!”

“We could not do this without the tools of the government, nor its funding. Governments worldwide have companies like this, though they call it by different names. Some have tried to exploit the company. We will not go into what the Nazis attempted right now, but it was not pleasing. Still, all companies with different companies belong under one header and communicate with each other, like an ambassadorship or the Red Cross.”

“Yet no one knows about this.”

“They do not need to. Those financially in charge of the company move the money around so that the government pays us, but it is not noticed by anyone attempting to see it. Someone came close to finding us out during the Trump years, but because of the pure incompetence of the administration, they were not able to understand what they were seeing before we moved the money around before and rendered ourselves invisible. We do not have Helping the Dead offices in the White House or anything. In fact, our government liaisons are usually someone very high up and nonpartisan, remaining in that position for decades at a time. Their titles and workload usually are officially something else, but behind the behind the behind the scenes, they help us extensively.”

“Wow,” Linda said quietly. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“Nothing you cannot handle,” Grace said, leaning over and planting a soft, quick kiss on her cheek.

Linda leaned her head over on Grace’s shoulder, quickly falling asleep.

The weeks of lessons were continued.

Linda found the company’s history and workings to be quite fascinating.

“This is probably one of those few examples where government agencies from every country in the world work together perfectly,” Linda said.

Grace nodded. “There have been some small skirmishes, but reason always works out. Without us, the world could be overflowing with a spectacle we cannot communicate or understand, but one which would be all around us and make life almost unbearable. And that would be for those who are not aware that the dead are all around us. Or, at least, would be all around us if no one had guided them to the next step.”

On her tablet, Grace introduced Linda to others within the company, from other managers to other guides. With thousands of people in the company, it was impossible to meet all of them, but Grace introduced quite a few.

“I have noticed a couple of things,” Linda said one evening over dinner. “Is everyone who is a guide blind?”

Grace nodded. “They all have retinitis pigmentosa.”

Linda swallowed her bite. “Does everyone with retinitis pigmentosa have this gift?”

Grace shook her head. “We do not think so. That is a woefully unexplored route, though. But, with hundreds of thousands with RP, it would be quite difficult to find them all.” Grace took a bite of her meal and chewed thoughtfully before continuing. “We have approached some who have RP randomly and made small attempts to see if they could become guides. Some do appear not to have the gift, but this is again with only so much time spent with the individual. We may skip over thousands who have the gift, but we do not have the time.”

“‘ We’ being the manager,” Linda stated.

Grace nodded. “Yes. There are times when we are woefully understaffed. As you can tell, the transition to a guide is a very long, complicated, and time-consuming project.” She held up her hand before Linda could speak. “Not that this is a task, it by far is not. It is quite enjoyable for me. I can state with genuine honesty that I have found in you a very, very close and dearest of friends.”

Linda blushed a bit at that statement and the rest of the meal in relative silence.

“I’ve noticed something else about all of the guides and the managers,” Linda said after another meeting with another manager. “All are ... well ... good looking. I mean, good looking.”

“This is not on purpose,” Grace said. “But you are not the first to point that out. Yes, not only are all people good-looking but also in top physical shape.” She sat down, noticing Linda doing the same, who obliged. “We managers are a little bit different. We are born this way.”