The phone buzzed. Albert had been half asleep, upright in his desk chair while he kept guard over the items that set him apart as an arbitrator. They were like ticking time bombs. His mother would find them eventually, and it wasn’t practical for him to have them all the time. He wasn’t a veritable machine like Amy who seemed to be able to carry everything she owned on her back and not slouch an inch. There were so many things about her that confused Albert, and that wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list, but at that moment he envied her in that regard.

Even though his mother was gone for the night, Albert jumped at the slight sound the phone’s vibration caused. And it just kept going off, Albert wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. Was it a phone call?

He carefully picked the phone up between two fingers, careful not to press any of the buttons on the side, and flipped the phone open. The little screen on the inside said “AMY” and Albert figured that meant it was a phone call. He wasn’t completely clueless when it came to phones, he’d just never used something so outdated before.

“Hello?” Albert asked, hesitantly, after pressing the green answer button on the key pad.

“Took you long enough.” Amy’s distorted and disgruntled voice answered back over the line. “Have you got a minute?”

“It’s”—Albert had to actually check his bedside clock to see what time it was—”ten pm… but sure.”

“Don’t like you weren’t awake. I bet you’ve been freaking out this whole time.”

It was true, but Albert didn’t want to admit it. So he let his frustration out in different words. “What do you want, Amy?”

“Careful how you proceed today, Albert, I’m not acting on my own orders right now. Boss lady has made some demands.”

“Great. What does Hope want?”

“She’s going to hear about that tone.” Amy cackled on the other end of the line as she spoke, amused that for once it wouldn’t be her head on the chopping block. “But she’s asked me to do some dirty work for her. Since you’ll be starting assignment tomorrow, she wants you to meet Graham before you actually get out in the field together.”

“Right, Graham.” The so called old hat collector that Albert was supposed to be working with instead of Amy. He wasn’t thrilled, but there wasn’t another way around it. “How long do you think that’ll take?”

“Not long. Graham doesn’t like to mince words.”

“Alright. Where should I meet you?”

“Just pop by the office with your quill. Bring anything else you think you might want to have on you just in case. Oh, and don’t forget your keys. Common mistake for first timers that can’t pop back directly into their residence.”

“Right, thanks. I hadn’t thought about that.” Albert was nodding to the phone as he spoke, which he quickly realized was silly.

There was a pause where Albert wasn’t sure what to do next. Did Amy have more to tell him? Should he say goodbye? Just hang up?

“Well, get on it!” Amy growled through the phone. Before Albert could apologize or say a farewell or hang up himself, she had ended the call.

“Okay then. Bye.” Albert muttered to himself.

With a shrug of resignation, Albert leaned down to scoop up his backpack and begin stuffing it with everything he’d just laid out on the bed. Even the paperwork. There was no way he was going to leave anything out or around the apartment for his mother to find—either accidentally or after some snooping. It was a bit bulky, but it wasn’t like his backpack wasn’t bulky on a normal day anyways.

“Alright, just… just a light prick.” Albert muttered to himself as he carefully held the nib of the quill up to his shoulder. “I should have asked to keep the lack of sensation I had when I was half dead.”

When Albert finally gave in and let the sharp metal point poke into his shoulder, there was a quick and jarring transition to the back alley of the Death’s office. It was right where he’d set it earlier in the day. He hadn’t been thinking about it too hard either, so it was nice to know it wasn’t too focus intensive. But there was noting waiting for him in the back alley, nothing he could see at least. IT was dark, after all, and the back alleyway wasn’t lit.

Nervously, Albert made his way around to the front of the building. There wasn’t much more light out front either, but Albert could make out two figures leaning against the wall near the door.

“He’s slow.” A man’s voice grumbled as soon as Albert was visible. One figure, which Albert assumed was Graham, tipped forward and propped himself out of his relaxed waiting position.

“He’s a fast learner.” Amy’s voice corrected the man. “And he’s good luck.”

“Ah, another lucky one.” Graham muttered. “No guarantee the luck will rub off on the people around him.”

“You say that like luck is a normal attribute for property owners.” Amy chuckled. “But you’re right. It mostly only helps him.”

Albert had walked closer, slowly and cautiously just in case this was some kind of long con trap. He felt like he could trust Amy, but there was really no telling what was going on if she was under Hope’s direct orders. It made her just as dangerous to him as she was to anyone else. And then there was Graham, who Albert knew nothing about.

Graham was, if this was actually him, a tall and lean man who looked like he could have been anywhere from thirty to forty years old. His face was obscured by grizzled tufts of strawberry blonde facial hair that hung off a stern jawline. His actual hair followed suit, though it was much longer than Albert had expected, reaching down to his shoulders. He looked like the kind of man that you might see on the side of the road with a sign asking for money and that anything would help. And that may well have been his day job. But the closer that Albert crept, the less grubby Graham looked. He was arranged almost perfectly to appear innocuous from a distance or if you couldn’t see him very well. But the faint light trickling out of the barred windows of the office building showed Albert enough.

The shoulder length hair that looked like it might have been unkempt was actually arranged and tied back so that it wouldn’t be able to get in front of his face. His beard was combed and pinned in an odd looking tight roll beneath his chin. And his clothes, though they looked rather old and ragged, were sewn and patched expertly and seemed like they were tailored to his size exactly.

“Well, are you going to gawk at me all night or are you going to speak up boy?”

“I assume you’re Graham.” Albert held out his hand in introduction. “Albert.”

“First name basis, oh?” Graham raised an eyebrow as he took Albert’s hand.

The handshake was clearly meant to intimidate Albert. His skin was rough and calloused, though Albert could see that his nails were well kept and there weren’t any cuts or scrapes to be seen. Maybe it was some aspect of being a collector, but Graham actually seemed well put together up close.

“Graham Mcilhenny. But first names are just fine. Titles and mononyms are all pomp, might as well do away with sir names too while we’re at it.”

His last name made sense of the faint hint of a fading accent in Graham’s voice. Albert had been prepared to dismiss it entirely, but it did sound vaguely English. Wherever the accent came from, it felt like Graham hadn’t been there in a long time.

“Nice to meet you.” Albert said with a nod as he ended the handshake.

“Psh, nice to meet you, he says.” Graham snorted and turned to Amy. “Why has that greasy bald git got me working with a kid that’s as green as a hillside?”

“You should know better than to ask that.” Amy chided. “He probably wants you to kill him.”

“And just for that I never will.” Graham growled. “So, you’re in luck, kid.”

“So, if you aren’t going to kill me, what is it that you actually do?”

“We’re collectors, Albert.” Graham answered with a low and shallow voice. “We collect debts. But when we work with arbitrators directly, we’re more like bodyguards.”

“So, people actually make deals with Death while they’re still alive?”

“A sad state to be in, but it happens.”Graham nodded. “Normally I collect for Death personally. But the last few decades he’s been on a work binge and does all the work himself from contract to collection. Kind of makes us feel a little redundant, but he’s as immortal as we are. Not much difference who does what, really.”

“But you’re just going to tag along and be my bodyguard?”

“I’d hardly say tag along, but it’ll be my job to stop you from getting shot or stabbed or mauled or poisoned… lots of ways to die unexpectedly. And none of them will do it to me. Plenty will do it to you.”

“Wait… do what?” Albert was confused, and there was a near simultaneous facepalm from both Amy and Graham at his question.

“In. Do you in.” Amy rolled her eyes as she said it. “It’s next to impossible to kill collectors. So, let Graham walk in front of you. Okay?”

“I’m not quite wide as some bodyguards, but you should do just fine standing behind me.” Graham said in agreement. “But you’ll be in charge, more or less. I won’t just stand idly by if you get in a panic and can’t decide what we should do, but I’ll try and keep you safe.”

“I feel safer already.” Albert said it with a mildly sarcastic tone, but he did feel safer having talked to Graham. He seemed very similar to Amy, though perhaps less invested in Albert’s own personal success and survival.

“Good, but don’t go feeling too safe.” Graham poked Albert in the chest as he said it, the single finger providing more than enough force to make Albert have to steady himself.

“What times are good to stop by and see you, by the way.” Albert had almost forgotten that his quill would have a default that could take him to Graham. “I was advised not to drop in on you unannounced, but if I need to I’d rather do it while you’re in a good mood.”

“Hm.” Graham paused and stroked his chin in thought. “First time I’ve ever been asked, honestly. If I’m not working, I won’t be doing much. And I don’t have much to keep personal. So, if your desperate and can’t text me ahead of time, just do it whenever. But if you can text me or call me first, do that.”

Albert hadn’t even looked through his phone’s contacts, so he had no idea if Graham’s phone number was on there. It made sense that if Amy’s number was in the phone, that Graham’s would be as well. And if not, he had a feeling he could just ask Amy.

“Well, it was good to talk to you first.” Albert said with a nod.

He tried to make eye contact with Graham before making his exit, but the man’s eyes were wild and honestly terrifying to look at. Something about the deep green in them made it feel like looking too long would feel like jumping off a cliff into the ocean.

“It’s a courtesy I’m not often extended.” Graham said, keeping his eyes steady on Albert. He was fully aware that the boy before him couldn’t look him in the eye. “So thank you, Albert.”

Graham gave one more nod before taking his own quill from his pants pocket— at least that’s what Albert assumed he was reaching for, as he didn’t actually remove his hand while Albert could see him—and vanishing. Albert was about to do the same, though far less dramatically, but Amy held up her hand to stop him.

“Two things, before you go.” Amy had picked her own backpack up off the ground where she had been reclined. “First, I’ve been told to give you these.”

The glasses case was extended to Albert, the same one she’d lent him before. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he hadn’t been given a means to see spirits after signing his contract. But having these would be familiar and effective as anything else he could have been given. Unless there was a way that Death could grant him the ability to see spirits innately, since Death himself seemed to be able to do that.

“And second, the boss lady would like to see you. She’s waiting in her office.”

“Oh, great.” Albert groaned as he accepted the glasses. “I mean, genuinely, thank you for these. But what in the world is it that she wants now?”

“Anyone’s guess, Albert. Just don’t piss her off.”

“With my luck that’s exactly what she wants me to do.”

“With your luck, it might not matter.” Amy said with a chuckle. “But, good luck all the same.”

“Something tells me I’ll need the extra bit.”