Janie Wants to Know

“Do you disappear when you die?”
Marie, focused on chopping carrots, forced herself not to roll her eyes. Kids could be so exasperating! Especially when they fixate on an idea. The flavor of the week this time around was death; and young Janie was obsessed.
“You go to heaven, darling,” she replied in the weary tones of a long suffering mother. “But only if you eat your vegetables!” she added with a knowing grin, waggling a half chopped carrot at her daughter.
“Oh” said Janie. She gazed pensively at the doll she’d laid on its back on the floor. “Then… does the man take you there?”
Marie stopped chopping and raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “What man, darling?”
“The street man”
Marie frowned and put down the carrot. This was new. “What do you mean, honey. Which street man? Mr Stevens from over the road..?”
“No.” replied the child, looking up from her toy funeral. “Not him. The scary man from today. Does he take you to heaven?”
Marie’s innards suddenly went cold. “You, ah, shouldn’t talk to strangers, Janie. And I think that’s quite enough about death. God-willing it’s a long way off for you and me both, darling.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about me dying. The man said that won’t be for years and years.”
Marie’s knuckles whitened around the knife handle. “What else did this… man say?
“He just said ‘see you tonight’,” said the child, before returning her attention to the toy-strewn floor.
Marie stared at her daughter in shock. What on earth could that mean?
Then came a knock at the door.