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from Contest #9

"It was the thing he'd always loved about her."  Each of the mourners shook their head in agreement and continued to walk by the open casket.  The next in line stopped.

“She was an old crone who didn’t care for anyone but herself,” he said and gently brushed the back of her limp hand.

Antonio sat up in the back pew of the ten row mortuary chapel.  He had been to the back to check on his Kleenex supply trying to keep his mind busy.  He was trying to avoid thinking about his wife at home.  The argument hadn’t started over much, but he felt sorry for the time they had wasted fighting.  Now it seemed he was projecting his sorrow onto the funeral.  Surely he hadn’t heard the griever right. The family smiled and patted the heckler on the back as if he had said something wonderful.  Antonio shook his head, trying to clear it.  The viewing was scheduled to last thirty minutes longer, after which he could close up for the night.  He sighed, and sat in the rigid pose of feigned interest.   

A young girl, around eight years old, was next in line.  “Grandma used to give me bread as a treat.”  Antonio leaned against the hard wood and breathed in the blueberry rose floral spray wafting amid the crowd.  The viewing was back as he expected.  The girl continued, “I soon learned that each of the pieces were moldy or stale.  When I complained, she would whack my legs with her walking stick.”

The family smiled at the girl.  Her mother came over and hugged her.  “That was a very nice thing to say,” said the mom.

Antonio was close in age where his mortuary would have him as a customer.  He had worked at this same building since he was the same height as the little girl.  Never had he heard people so blatantly speak against the dead.

“I think she used to spit in the water glasses before she handed them to us.  I saw her do that for two of you,” said the next in line.

That was the last he could stand to hear.  Antonio moved from his pew to the exit and waited for the family to finish.  Even from the back walkway he could still hear occasional snippets of the family berating her.  He tried to block out their voices, which left him alone with his thoughts.  Sometimes he wondered if his wife had some of the same bitterness towards him.  Surely not to the degree the family shared, but there were times he said some really dumb things.  The viewing lasted only five minutes longer before everyone shuffled away, ending a full twenty-five minutes early.

The bolts locked Antonio inside with the dead.  Dust had collected on the green hymnals, which he wiped away with as much care as the families caresses for the deceased.  Their words had been harsh, but the actions loving.  The wrinkled skin shook on the back of his hand as he closed the coffin.

“Interesting compliments,” said a voice from the far side of the chapel.  All the lights had been turned down or off.  Antonio liked to conserve electricity.  The bulbs lasted longer. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone else was here,” said Antonio cupping a hand over his eyes.  “I can turn the lights back on.”

“No need,” said the low voice.  “I am used to the dark.”

“Would you like me to open the casket again?”

“No.”

Antonio nodded his head and turned to leave.  Plenty wanted to stay longer in the same room as their beloved.  There was no reason to bereave them further by making them watch him clean the funeral home.  Antonio was almost around the corner when the man spoke again.

“Those were fascinating remarks the family made.”

Antonio shuffled his feet.  To lie would be easy, and why not agree?  He had ignored the man the first time he had made the comment.  But the dead deserved honesty.

“Those were some pretty awful things I heard.  Most of the time the family is generic or evasive when they don’t want to say anything awful, but these people were blatant,” said Antonio.  “I don’t want to offend you by saying this about your family.”

“I’ve heard worse, and they weren’t my family,” said the man in the shadows.  “My guess is that you will hear much more insidious comments in the future.”

“I hope not!” said Antonio backing away.  “You must have come in contact with some horrible people in the past to have heard worse.  Who are you?  Someone in the death business?”

The man in shadow laughed.  “Yes, definitely someone in the death business.  I am Death.”

“Death?” asked Antonio.  He backed away further.  “You have some disease or something?”

“Nothing you haven’t already got,” said Death.

“But I am as healthy as the day I was born.”

“That is when you came down with your ultimate demise.  Life means eventual death.”  Death stood and walked closer.  The shadow Antonio had seen the man in lifted and dislodged in an envelope around him as he moved.

“I don’t know who you are, but you need to leave,” Antonio shuffled to the door and held it open.  He turned back.  The room was empty.

“Hello?”

Antonio flipped the light switches.  Tonight was the first night he had been scared inside the mortuary.  The cream casket reflected the glare of the overhead spotlights.  The lid was raised.  Antonio moved across the room and closed the cover without looking at the woman inside.  His eyes scanned the familiar pews.  Nothing was out of place. 

Antonio took a deep breath and turned.  The lid was open.  His hand clutched at his chest.  He reached out to close the top once again, but the cover slammed down first.

“Stop, Demon!” yelled Antonio.  The room plunged into blackness.

“I am not a demon,” said Death’s voice from across the room.  “I don’t want to scare you, only get you to listen.”

“You scared me half to death,” said Antonio.

“Believe me, you are more than halfway there.”

The black room was silent.  “That is why you are here, isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“Am I dying?”

“You were dying the moment you were born.”

Making his way through the darkness Antonio sat at the nearest bench.  The lights were not required for him to make his way around the room after so many years.

“How much longer?”

“Two minutes after you make the call to you wife,” said Death.

“What’s going to happen?”

“You will either go somewhere nice or unpleasant,” said Death.  The darkness around Death shuddered and a scythe gleamed beside him.

“You mean heaven or hell, that sort of thing?” asked Antonio.

“Who knows?  I am just the middle man.  My job isn’t to take you to a new home.  My job is to welcome people to death and pass them along to the next step of the journey.  But why wouldn’t they be restored to what they spent their time on?  Even if they go to a wonderful place, if they choose to make it a hell I am sure they can.  Isn’t that the case here?  Most come from somewhere nice or somewhere unpleasant.”

Antonio thought about where he had come from; an unpleasant quarrel.  His ears felt warm with shame.

“I will take my phone call now,” said Antonio.

“Right on time,” said Death.

Antonio dialed the numbers with shaking fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

“I know,” said his wife.  From her voice he knew she was smiling.

***

The conversation lasted for several hours.  Antonio was vague on why he called, but it hadn’t mattered.  She had only good things to say.  Words of love and encouragement were exchanged.  As always he had been worried for nothing.  The argument had been nothing more than a silly waste of time. 

There was a soft click as the phone settled back into the cradle. “Do you always give advanced warning?” asked Antonio.

“No, but you’re special.  In life you chose to make the departing of the deceased a painless process for the one’s left behind.  You didn’t swindle, trick, or fool your customers.  You loved your job,” said Death.

“True, true,” said Antonio.  “What’s the point?  It’s not like business ever runs out.”

“Even if it had,” said Death.  “You wouldn’t have cheated a broken heart for a few more dollars.”

“No,” agreed Antonio quietly. “I never would have.  So that is why you are here?  To make the passing easier for me?”

“That is part of it,” said Death.

“What else?”

Death scratched his chin and leaned forward to rest his elbow on the scythe.  “The next customer in here, after you of course, is going to be my wife.  I am ready for retirement.  This was only temporary while I waited.  I want you to take over for me.”

“But I thought I was dying,” said Antonio.

“You are, and then you can move on if you would like to.  But there is also another option that I am presenting.  Your wife won’t come along for another few years.  Until then you could take my place as I took the place of Death before me.”

“But I won’t know the first thing about how to prepare them,” said Antonio.  “What would I say?”

“You’ll know, believe me.  Not only that, but you got a chance to see what it would be like when you take over.  Truth is the only thing you will hear about the departed.”

“You mean the family here tonight-”

“They all told lies about how wonderful she was, but you heard what kind of person she really had become.  Flattery may help the living, but honesty reigns in the memories.”

Antonio sat down and ran his fingers across his eyes.  “What if I’m not ready to die?”

“You had a lifetime to prepare,” said Death.

“What about my wife?” he asked.

“She will be along shortly.  How much time do you think she has?”

“839 days, 34 minutes, and 25 seconds,” blurted Antonio without thinking.

“Sounds accurate,” said Death.

“How did I know that?”

“I guess there is only one thing left,” said Death.

Antonio tensed.  “Time for me to die?”

“No, you died half way through the viewing.  You went more peaceful than most.  Your body is in the back where you went to check on your Kleenex supply.”

“But the whole conversation with my wife.”

“You only heard the truth.  If she had been lying her words would have come out as bitter criticism, but she said exactly what you heard.  She meant ever word.  To her you died several minutes after the conversation.  She will be excited to see you in a couple years.”

“She heard me,” said Antonio.

“Like I said,” said Death.  “You are a special case.”

Death stepped out of the shadows that enveloped him.  He was smiling.  Antonio felt the cloak of darkness surround him. 

Death stood.

back to Contest #9