Chapter 2: Chapter 2
I cleared my throat and removed my hand from his shoulder. “Where’s the body?” I interrupted the silence.
“It’s…Michael…he’s in the bedroom.” His voice quivered. He swallowed hard trying to hold back the sorrow long enough to talk. “Last room on the right.” He looked at me. “I don’t have to go in there, do I?”
“No, it’s better if I go alone.” I patted his leg, smiled then stood. “I’ll need to bring in the transport bag.”
“Yes, of course.” He stood, walked me to the small foyer, then held the door while I rolled the raised gurney over the threshold and down the hallway. The phone rang. I heard Cliff answer it, which would allow me time alone with the body. I entered their bedroom. The smell of death filled the air. I closed the door to keep from being interrupted and walked toward the bed.
Michael laid under a thin sheet pulled up to his neck. I studied his face. Two or three day’s growth of whiskers covered his jaw and neck. His eyes dark ovals of nothingness stared toward the ceiling. I leaned down and placed my face next to his as I followed his dead gaze, wondering what he saw last. His husband’s face? A spider crawling across the drywall? A long-lost memory brought to the surface of his dying mind? Or perhaps it was just the ceiling and nothing more.
Death is different for everyone. Some see the eternal darkness right before they blink out. Others see past loves or forgotten moments from their childhood. Some see nothing at all, their sight being the first to go. Often people smell a fragrance that was important to them during their lives, or a favorite song being played for them moments before being taken away. The common myth of having your entire life played out in a few seconds is, in my opinion, wishful thinking, an impossible task to undertake in the moments before one dies.
Michael’s arms were stretched straight, resting against his body on top of the sheet. Either you died extraordinarily peaceful, Michael, or someone adjusted your limbs. I pulled the sheet back. Michael was naked. At first, I figured he had died in his sleep. First impressions are usually wrong, and mine was no exception. As I studied his body, I noticed the dried come matted to his pubic hair. I followed the spray across his belly and chest. That must have been some orgasm. I knew my thoughts were insensitive, but in my trade, your thoughts are what kept you going at times. “Don’t worry, Michael. I’ll get you cleaned up.” I ran my finger down his cold, wiry cheek.
I unzipped the black bag on the gurney, fanning out the sides. I turned, slid my hands and arms under Michael’s cold, stiff body. One, two, three. I lifted the body, bent around, then going feet first, slipped Michael into the bag. I zipped the bag closed before wheeling the body out of the bedroom. Cliff sat on the couch. The phone in one hand. The drink in the other.
“Do you have someone to stay with you?”
He nodded. Then said, “Michael’s sister and her husband are on their way.”
“Would you like me to stay until they arrive?” I bit my tongue the moment the words came out. I only hoped he would not take me up on my offer. I scolded myself internally for letting this stranger in mourning get to me. Jagged bolts zig-zagged across the sky. The windows reflected its power. Thunder boomed along with the ache in my bones.
He looked in my direction but past me to his husband in the bag. “No, it’s all right. They will be here soon enough.” He stood but didn’t come any closer to me or his husband’s body. “What’s next? I mean what do you need me to do? I’ve never,” a dull laugh broke his words. “Of course, I’ve never done this before.” He shook his head as if ashamed.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to take on everything at once. We all have our own experiences with death, some more than others.” I kept my hand resting on his dead husband’s shoulder to keep me grounded to the reason I was there. “We’ll need to discuss the final arrangements of your husband’s life.”
“Tonight?”
“No, tomorrow will be fine. You’ll need to bring a suit or some other clothing for Michael to be buried in.”
“Yes, of course. We never talked about any of this. We thought we had time. Michael doesn’t…” Cliff sighed and shook his head. “Michael didn’t own a suit.”
“I’m sure whatever you chose it will be perfect.” I smiled. “I’ll be at the funeral home all day tomorrow. I have a viewing tomorrow morning, but it’s not until ten. Call me when you are ready. If I’m unavailable, you can speak to one of my assistants.” He nodded but said nothing else. He walked me to the door and held it open while I wheeled his dead husband out of their home
“There’s no need for thanks.” I smiled again. It’s what I do at times like this. I smile. “You may call me at the funeral home, day or night, if you have any questions.”
“Thank you,” he said again.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone