Death in the Tiergarten

“If Death starts coming toward us, let’s get the hell outta here,” Jim whispered to his sister, Mary, and me.

We were in Germany, taking a break in the Tiergarten after a long walk across Berlin. A short distance from us, one of those living statues was performing for a small crowd.

Performing might not be the exact word as the tall gray and silver draped figure glared at the passersby who dropped coins into a silver basket. Death’s face was obscured by a dark cloak and a silvery cowl-like hood.  The figure held a very long, very heavy looking broadsword, which it occasionally arced menacingly through the air.

Mary and I were in total agreement with Jim: one step in our direction and goodbye bench, goodbye Tiergarten and especially goodbye Death.

We didn't have to flee because exactly at 6:00 PM church bells began ringing and Death descended from its height.

The silvery cloak and cowl were removed, carefully folded and stowed in the pedestal, which proved to be just a milk crate. The sword collapsed nicely and disappeared. Death washed its face and revealed an attractive young girl who attached the box to a bike and pedaled away.

Death was outta there.

And with a collective sigh of relief, so were we.