She Looks So Natural
by: Marina Twelve

 

"We have a problem Rick." Said my Uncle Will. "Oh no what did I do now?" I thought. It was never easy working for family. But If I was going to get a summer job, I had no choice.

I was only Fifteen, and nobody in town would hire anyone younger than Sixteen. It was some stupid local ordinance. So my mother convinced her brother Will, who was the owner of the Wilburn and Barrimore Funeral home, to give me a job. The turnover rate was high and he needed help all of the time.

Needless to say, The idea of working in a funeral home did not appeal to me all that much, but Uncle Will did need the help, and mom insisted that I take the job.

The job consisted mostly of "odd jobs", such as the occasional hand with moving a coffin, (or more properly a CASKET,) helping Lowell, the gravedigger and a lot of "go-fer" work.

Every now and then Uncle Will or his tall, lanky assistant, Freemont, would offer to introduce me to some of the more professional aspects of the funeral home business. They asked me if I wanted to learn how to hook up the blood pump to a "client". Or the finer points of formaldehyde injection techniques, but I graciously turned them down.

What happened to dead bodies prior to burial, was quite a revelation to me. I thought that they were merely "put on ice" until the day of the Funeral or viewing, and dressed up and stuck into the box.

In reality, a lot had to be done. Most of the time, the body was embalmed. The blood was pumped out and replaced with a preserving fluid—usually a formaldehyde based chemical. The lips and Eyelids were often carefully and invisibly sewn shut.

Uncle Will also employed a hair stylist, Meg Sheeney, a 40 year old ex-beautician, To comb and style the hair. Meg was also the Makeup artist—(Yes Makeup) that was applied to the corpse to make it look more "alive" for the viewing. A dead body, in its "unadorned" state, is a horrifying sight. The skin will range in color from a sickly yellow to an ashen bluish white. It was Meg’s job to make the body look like someone who was merely sleeping.

In some cases, particularly with accident victims, Her job was a bit more difficult than simply applying makeup. Cuts, gashes and bullet holes were patched up and smoothed out by an application of "mortician’s wax" before she could apply her trade. If everything looked good, the body would be viewed, as is normally the case. If things didn’t quite work out as well, a gauze veil could be erected over the corpse. In hopeless cases, the Casket was kept closed.

People like Uncle Will, Freemont and Meg had to have a special "quality" about them that would allow them to so casually and professionally handle "clients" as they did.—One thing was sure, I certainly didn’t have it. I didn’t understand how they could keep their lunches down.

Lowell’s job, the gravedigger’s, was not nearly as gruesome. He would take the backhoe out to the gravesite and let that machine do the bulk of the work. Often I would assist him in the final shaping of the hole by hand, with a square shovel.

I also helped Cletus, the Janitor. His job consisted mostly of sweeping and vacuuming the floors in the hall and the chapel. He also had to mop up and clean the embalming room. The most disgusting job was cleaning the drains, which from time to time, often got clogged by stuff I would rather not think about. I had to help a few times with THAT. I couldn’t eat for the rest of the day.

Uncle Will had called me into his office to discuss a problem. At first I thought that I had done something wrong, and was about to be reprimanded for it. But no, Meg and Freemont were also there.

"Rick, I need a favor from you." Uncle Will began. "A really BIG favor. And I am willing to pay you for it too."

Ordinarily, I would have been very interested. But considering where I was working a "Big Favor" could be something REALLY particularly gruesome or disgusting. Something even Uncle Will was not willing or able to do.

Still, curiosity got the best of me. "Tell me what I need to do and I will tell you if I will do it." I said. I was not going to let them talk me into doing something before I knew what it was.

"It’s like this, Rick. You remember Lorell Kelton, The girl that was killed in the automobile accident a couple of days ago?"

I knew all about the accident. Lorell was the queen at the Senior Prom at my school. I was only a sophomore, so I couldn’t attend, but I heard that her boyfriend had got drunk and after the Prom they were involved in a terrible automobile accident on the way home. Lorell was killed. The boyfriend survived. The tragedy was the talk of the town.

"Well, we had another accident at the funeral home", my uncle continued. "Some records were mixed up and Lorell’s body was cremated yesterday. Her friends and family had arranged for an open casket funeral, but now we have no body to put into the casket. If word of this error gets out we could be ruined!"

"Well what do you want me to do about it? " I asked. "You want me to keep my mouth shut? I can do that."

Uncle Will’s face acquired a "sheepish" looking expression. "Well, no . . . We have something else in mind." He stammered.

Before I could ask what that "something else" was, a ridiculous thought scampered through my head that caused me to explode into a fit of raucous laughter.

The more I thought about it the more I had to laugh! I was bent over double and in danger of falling out of the chair.

When I was finally able to speak a few words, I brushed a few tears from my eyes. "Ha Ha, Sorry", I apologized. "But you wouldn’t believe what kind of thought just came over me."

Uncle Will wasn’t laughing. Neither was Meg or Freemont. "This is serious Rick. You are the right size and there even is a slight facial resemblance. I am sure that Meg can handle the rest."

"You can’t be serious!" I almost began to laugh again.

"Oh but I am."

"I am not even a girl! Can’t you find someone else to play a dead body for you?"

"I can’t risk that, the fewer people that know about it the better. The employees have their jobs on the line. They will stay quiet, those that know. We can’t let word of this dreadful error get out of this office. You are family, Rick you have a stake in this too. Since your Father died, you mother has received a portion of our profits from her stock in the company."

"But what about fixing up some other BODY?" I suggested. "It will only be temporary, and it will be really dead. No one would know the difference."

"There is no body in stock that would even come close. I only have three old men in their seventies. You are the only person who knows about this that could possibly pull it off. I can’t trust anyone outside our group."

"There’s NO Way this is going to work, you know that don’t you Uncle Will?"

"Will you at least give it a try?"

"What does this gig pay?" I asked.

"Two hundred dollars."

"Three hundred!" I countered. "And I get paid if it works or not." I knew I had Uncle Will over a barrel.

"OK Three it is. Provided you make an honest effort at it." He replied.

He caught me by surprise, but sure, I would at least try out his crazy idea for nearly three weeks extra pay.

 

"Can you lay perfectly still?" Fremont asked. "Can you ignore what people are saying around you? Can you hold back any urge to cough of sneeze?"

"Maybe, for how long?" I replied.

Uncle Will thought about it for a few seconds. "For as long as a Half an hour at a time?"

"I don’t know?"

"Let’s see, shall we." said Uncle Will. He directed me to an open Coffin on the showroom floor. "Climb in" he ordered.

"Fremont opened the lower half of the lid, so I could get my feet in. The fit was quite snug. The padding on the sides embraced my body. The mattress and springs beneath were quite comfortable. They were wasted on dead people.

I lay back and Meg put a large pillow under my head.

"Now, Close your eyes, breath very slowly and lets see how long you can lie perfectly still." Said Uncle Will.

"Piece of cake!" I thought. But after several LOOONG minutes, it wasn’t so easy any more. I heard a sound next to my face. I peeped open one of my eyes just for a sec to see what it was.

"Caught ya!" Said Uncle Will as I saw him right in my face. "We are going to have to do something about this. You need to know what is going on around you so that you aren’t startled by any surprises. You will also need to know when people are close so you can be extra careful."

"How are we going to do that?" I asked.

Uncle Will thought about it for a minute. "Hmmm. I can send Freemont to Radio Shack to buy one of those small radio transmitters. Then we can stick a small radio in your left ear and Freemont can keep you informed about what’s going on around you."

Fifteen minutes later Freemont was back and we were reading the instructions. The transmitter was what like the "Secret Service" and body guard guys use to communicate with each other—only the cheaper version.

We tried it out. I lay back in the coffin and plugged myself in.

"Testing, one two three." Said Freemont. I heard him loud and clear through my earpiece.

Again I closed my eyes. Fremont transmitted to me a running narrative about what was going on in the room. I knew where Meg and Uncle Will were at all times.

"Will is looking right into your face" I was informed. I could feel his breath. I knew what it was, and where HE was, so I lay absolutely still."

"Meg is going to adjust your pillow" Freemont warned me once again. Once more I was able to keep playing "dead" as Meg jerked the pillow away.

The radio thing was a stroke of genius. So long as Freemont did his job, I knew that there would not be any startling surprises or any need for me to occasionally scope out the situation. I could "play dead" all day long like this, and nobody would ever know.

 

Well, one aspect of our deception plan had been solved. I would have no problems playing dead. The other half of the problem seemed even more formidable. I would have to made to look like Lorell. Not only that, I would have to pass close inspection by her family members, relatives, and friends who all had known her.

This one seemed impossible. I knew that it wouldn’t work, but I went along with it anyway. Three hundred dollars is three hundred dollars after all. It didn’t HAVE to work for me to make my money.

Meg took me to her styling room and Lay me on a padded table. There were all kinds of bottles, brushes wigs hairpieces and cosmetics sitting about on the shelves. That lined the walls. I bright light shone overhead. Several framed photographs of Lorell were placed in strategic positions around the immediate area for Meg to use as a reference.

She unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it out of the way.

"Now this is just an experiment Rick" she said. "We need to see how close I can come to making you look like the girl on the photographs. There will no sense in pursuing this any farther if we cant make you look JUST like her."

I looked around and thought about something. "Are you going to use Dead people’s makeup on me?" I asked in trepidation. I had heard women talk about how unhealthy it was to use each other’s makeup, but THIS was a whole new level.

Lipstick and the other stuff would have been bad enough, but to have to be made up with such cosmetics that had already been used on god knows how many dead people was even a less appealing prospect.

"Heaven’s no!" Meg replied. "Everything I use on you will be fresh out of the box."

"Now I know they call it mortician’s makeup," Meg continued, as she began to wipe a cream on my face. "But it’s really ordinary brand name makeup sold as a mortician’s package. The heavier foundations and things we use here sold in every drug store, but they are just conveniently packaged together for use in my business."

She closely studied my face and compared it to the photographs. "Hmmm. We will have to change the shape of your nose a bit and make your upper lip a bit fuller." She said. She opened a box that contained some flesh colored ‘putty’ like substance. She took some out and plastered it to the tip of my nose. After several minutes of molding and smoothing with her fingers and a few small tools, she looked at the photos and appeared to be pleased.

She placed another drollop on either side of my upper lip and smoothed and shaped some more. Something did still not look right to her. She thought about it and then built up each cheek on the side of my face, just below my eyes.

"Oh yes!" she said as she compared my face with the photos. "Now we are getting somewhere."

She then slathered a flesh colored "foundation" over my entire face. Waited for it to dry and lightly dusted it with powder. Artfully, she brushed a brick red blusher on my cheeks and along my forehead and chin.

She penciled in my eyebrows that were mostly obscured by the thick foundation. She wasn’t going to pluck them yet. Not until she could see if it was going to be worth the effort.

She had me sit up and she attached a honey blonde wig to my head. It wasn’t exactly the style Lorell wore in her photographs, but it would do for now.

Meg told me to lie down again. I closed my eyes while she applied shadow, liner and mascara.

She then took a brush and loaded it up with a rich red lip color and began to apply it to my lips. She took her time, she wanted to get the shapes just right. I dreaded to think what I might look like now as she continued to draw the color across my mouth.

"Finished!" She finally announced. From the look on her face I could see that she was quite pleased with herself. Unfortunately, there were no mirrors in her styling room. Meg’s clients usually didn’t care what they looked like.

"Lay right here!" she said. She put a pillow under my head and threw a smock over the rest of my body, taking care to leave a wide , rounded "feminine" neckline.

"Now close your eyes, honey." she said. "I’m going to get Will and Freemont.

I dared not move. I really didn’t know how fragile this makeup was. I didn’t want to mess up Meg’s job before she could show it off to my uncle and his assistant.

I relaxed and closed my eyes, just as I might do while lying in the coffin. Incredible! I heard uncle Will say as he came in the door. "If anybody has any complaints we can explain that that the dead body might have a little swelling and puffiness in the face which is normal."

"She don’t look swollen and puffy to me" Freemont commented. "I can hardly tell the difference. She looks just like the photograph"

"She?" I thought to myself. And the very idea that I would even remotely resemble those pictures seemed absurd.

"But you know family," Will replied. "They are always disappointed to some degree about how the body looks. You know, We used too much rouge or the wrong color lipstick, that kind of stuff. By the way Meg you did a fine job. I’ve seen considerably less resemblance between real bodies and their own photographs, and that more often than not. I think this will be a go."

I opened my eyes and sat up. The odd fluttering of my long mascara coated eyelashes felt strange. Meg had brought along a large hand mirror with her.

"Take a look at yourself, LORELL" she said as she handed the glass to me. I looked at the large photograph next to the table and then glanced in the mirror. Damn! I nearly dropped it. I DID look like Lorell. Her photograph anyway. I had the same mouth, the same eyes and the same shape of the face.

It was downright SPOOKY. The line of the lighter color makeup on my neck, gave the distinct impression of having my own head cut off and another one grafted to my body. The putty stuff had changed my own facial features to that of someone else entirely. I didn’t look like ME at all.

"Now what?" I asked as I put down the mirror.

Meg reached for a garment bag that was hanging on a rack near the door. She zipped it open, and revealed a long white, sequined gown. "They wanted her to wear this" She wore this when she was crowned queen. Fortunately she had removed it before the accident."

Meg demanded that I remove my jeans. "Lets see how it fits" she said.

Reluctantly, I slipped into the dress. I noticed that it had a slit that ran from the floor to about the middle of my right thigh. It was a little loose in the hips.

When Meg tried to zip it up, though, it was obvious that my waist was way too big. "Well too bad," I said with a smile "Looks like I won’t be wearing it."

"Not so fast" Replied Meg "All you need is a corset. I can have one in time tomorrow. Now try on the shoes."

Meg handed me a pair of white sandals with a four inch heel and ankle straps.

"Hey, I don’t need to wear those. I’m not gonna be walking around. Besides, nobody will see me from the waist down any way."

"The family wants Lorell to wear them, its part of the outfit. You never know when there might be occasion for us to open the lower half of the casket anyway. Sometimes we put items in there to be buried with the deceased. Someone might see. Its best to play it safe."

Reluctantly, I sat on the table once more and Meg slipped one of the sandals on my right foot. I was right. My foot WAS too big anyway.---but not THAT much too big. Meg merely adjusted a few of the strap buckles and managed to slip it on. The fit WAS tight, but it could be made to work. She buckled the ankle strap and the other shoe on me.

She had me take a few steps. I could hardly walk.

"Walk on your toes" Meg suggested. Yes, When I put the weight on the balls of my feet, I discovered that it was a lot easier to get around.

"Why am I doing this?" I asked. "I’m not gonna be walking around. I’m supposed to be DEAD, remember?"

"You will have to do SOME walking, Rick" Meg replied "like from the styling room to the casket, and when you are on a break. You need to be able to walk with out falling on your face."

She let me slip on my jeans again and button up my shirt. I still wore the sandals. With the ankle straps like that I couldn’t just kick them off. Meg told me that she would unbuckle them when she finished removing the stuff from my hair and face.

The Wig came off fairly easy, but the makeup was a lot harder to remove than it was to put on, especially the lip coloring, whatever that was. Fortunately, after several applications of cream and a lot of scrubbing, I looked somewhat masculine again. The putty stuff had "set up" somewhat though. With my new nose, cheekbones, and larger upper lip I still did not look like myself.

Meg had to pull quite hard, to remove the appliances. I thought that she would rip my skin off, but she was able to peel them away a piece at a time.

Finally I was Rick again. Meg removed the sandals and I put my own sneakers back on. Now I could walk again too.

Uncle Will stopped by to see how we were doing.

"Is it still on Meg?" he asked.

"Yes, but I will have to buy a few things at the mall tonight to make it work."

Meg turned to me. "OK Rick, the Visitation is at Eleven to two tomorrow, but your real transformation is going to take some time. Be sure to be here on time early in the morning."

At home that night, I said nothing about what Uncle Will had planned to do the next day. He told us to keep it quiet, and mom didn’t need to know anything about it. Besides, there was no need to humiliate myself by telling her that I was going to substitute for a GIRL. Even worse, She might think that her brother was going too far, and cancel the entire thing all together---Good-bye three hundred dollars.

 

The next morning, I reported directly to Meg’s styling room. Meg was ready for me. This time the modification work would be somewhat more extensive. I was going to be prepared for the big event. There would be NO room for error. Everything had to be perfect.

The first thing she had me do was to remove my shirt. Before I could protest, she had already begun to put shaving cream on my arms, chest and back.

She shaved those areas and dried me off. I was impressed at how smooth my skin felt. My arms and shoulders looked just like a girl’s.

Meg had me lay down once again, and began to tweeze my eyebrows. I protested, but Meg insisted that it MUST be done. "They can’t be hidden with makeup this time. It has to be done right." She said. Of course she was right. Uncle Will’s business was at stake and the jobs of all of his employees, including me. I couldn’t let a bit of potential humiliation, on my part, over having girlish eyebrows jeopardize all of that.

When meg finished with my brows, she told me to remove my pants—underpants too, and put on a set of brown dancer’s tights. Before I could ask why, she said "Its either that or we shave your legs". The choice was easy.

When I finally got them on, I told Meg that she could come back into the room. She then had another surprise for me. She next glued on long, red plastic fingernails onto my fingertips. These weren’t the cheap one’s either, they looked quite real.

Once again Meg buckled the white high-heeled sandals to my feet. "Wow! My long legs, in the tights and terminating with the white spike heels, sure looked sexy!" I thought to myself.

I stood sort of "wobbly" and held onto the table as Meg next slipped a white corset around my waist and began to tighten the laces. She told me to "suck in my gut and EX hale" To get all of the air out of me. Then she tightened it up some more and tied it off.

Damn! It was tight, and I had to move my shoulders up and down to breathe, but it sure whittled my waist down to size. Another "fringe benefit" was that the fat and excess skin above my waist was pushed up, sort of giving me "boobs"—or at least enough of something that could be fashioned into some "cleavage" at the top of the gown.

The corset also pushed downwards below the waist, giving me some shapely hip curves to boot.

Meg began to apply the foundation makeup once again, this time, however to my arms, chest and shoulders. Rather than my face. After it dried, she dusted me with powder and then strapped on a bra, just above the corset. She added padding, balled up nylons, into the cups until the skin displaced by the corset began to peek over them. I HAD my cleavage!"

Next we slipped the long white sequined gown on. The zipper slid right up. The gown hugged my new curves like a glove. My leg, exposed by the slit in the skirt looked sexy as hell.

With some difficulty I managed to sit on the table once again, while Meg placed another blonde wig on my head. She secured it with clips, and added a couple of hairpieces, along the sides and top, so as to imitate the hairstyle on the prom queen photograph. To top everything off, Meg then pinned on the CROWN. It was something else that the family insisted that Lorell wear.

Meg then slipped long, white fingerless gloves over my hands and up my arms. She then had my lay down once again and began to work on my face. She re applied the putty stuff, and then the remainder of the facial makeup.

Once again she was quite happy with her work. In the mirror, there WAS the Prom queen! Once again I looked just like the girl in the photographs. This time even more so. I found that if I held my face just right and struck a similar pose, I looked IDENTICAL to the official photo taken at the prom.

WOW! I noticed also that Meg had added a few moles to my face and chest, to correspond with those on Lorell. A touch of genius! Meg was certainly thorough.

I tottered to the back room where the Casket was waiting. There were TWO of them, Identical in every detail. After complementing both Meg and me on my looks, Uncle Will explained what the two caskets were about.

"We have to bury one of them at the funeral." He said "We will make the switch when we roll you out, and load the empty one into the Hearse."

"Please don’t get them mixed up Uncle Will." I asked—only HALF joking.

Before I could climb into my casket, Freemont carefully pulled a tuft of my hair aside and plugged the earplug into my left ear. When he smoothed the hair down again it was invisible.

He then opened both of the casket lids and instructed me to climb in. I tried, but it was impossible to do wearing that tight dress, and the corset, which prevented me from bending at all in the middle. Eventually, both Freemont and Uncle Will had to help.

Freemont grabbed me from behind the knees and my uncle grasped me under my arms and they physically carried me over to the open box and dropped me in. Meg touched up my makeup a bit, combed my hair and straightened out my clothes. Freemont then closed the lower lid.

Will arranged the padding around the open upper area and finally slipped a large pillow underneath my head and upper body. I was all set.

"It’s ShowTime!" I said with a grin. As I lay back and relaxed. I heard Uncle Will release a catch and I looked up JUST IN TIME to see the lid begin to close over my head!

"Whoa!" I said as I threw up my hand. "You are not gonna close that thing on me!"

"Don’t worry," he said, as he stuck a small pillow on the edge of the box. "This will keep it from closing" I just have to lower it a little so we don’t attract any gawkers as we roll you into the chapel room."

I still didn’t like it. But I saw his logic. He lowered the lid once again. It came within two inches of closing. The pillow held it open somewhat and let in a little light. Damn! It was close inside of these things. I could see that the padding above was shaped to receive the head of the person resting in it. A person could suffocate in minutes if they got trapped in one of these things.

They rolled the casket, on its gurney into the chapel. And once again opened the lid.

"Testing one two three" spoke Freemont’s voice into my ear. I lifted my re fingernailed and begloved hand and gave him the thumbs up sign.

Meg came in and gave me a final touch up. She also put a locket and necklace around my neck, and a bracelet around my left arm. To finish things off, she thrust a rosary into my hands and placed them in a crossed position on my stomach.

" Remember, this is the visitation," said Uncle Will, "so people will be coming a few at a time and will be in and out over the next three hours. Are you ready Rick?"

"Bring ‘em on" I said, and settled back into my pose.

Fremont stationed himself in the small "observation room" adjacent to the chapel. He watched through a "one way" glass, that was disguised as a mirror. It is often not appropriate for the funeral directors to be present during visitations and funerals, but it was also a good idea that he knows what is always going on, in the event that there is some "difficulty" with the body. The observation room made this task much easier.

"Here come a man and a woman" Said Freemont over my earpiece. "Now they are stopping to look at you."

I held my breath.

"It’s a shame," Said a man’s voice. "She was so young."

"She’s so pretty." Said the woman. "She looks so natural laying there. Its just like she was asleep."

"OK now they are walking away" Said Freemont’s voice again. "This was a Piece of Cake!" I thought. With Freemont giving me a "blow by blow" description of what was going on around me, I could keep this up all day.

"Will is opening the door. He is letting an old lady in. She is walking towards you . . . " Freemont’s narrative was superb.

Suddenly, without warning, GrrrrrOOOOOwwwwlll!

"The lady has stopped. She is looking at you funny. For god’s sakes what did you do?" GrrrrooowwwLLLL! There it was again!.

"Wills coming in!"

"What’s that sound?" I heard the old lady ask.

"Will’s right over you!" Groooowlll!

"It’s alright!" I heard my uncle say apologetically. "It’s just air escaping from the body. It happens from time to time. Please, I’ll tell you when you can come back in"

" Will is closing and latching the door."

I opened my eyes. Uncle Will was almost as pale as I was. , but now he began to turn red. "What the hell are you doing, son? Are you trying to ruin everything?" he yelled at me in a subdued tone.

"I can’t help it! I replied. I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. I’m famished!"

"Damn! I didn’t think about that." He said. "Freemont, quick, run over to Mc.Donald’s next door, and bring back a cheeseburger.! I’ll stall the visitors

outside."

Freemont returned in about five minutes. He helped me sit up and handed the cheeseburger to me. Meg soon followed. She looked at me in horror as I was wolfing down my meal. She ran up and spread several napkins on the front of my gown.

"Land sakes!" She said. "what would we have done if you dropped catsup on yourself?"

I wasn’t able to finish the burger. It seemed that the corset reduced my stomach capacity. At least I was full. I wouldn’t have to worry about my stomach growling any more.

Meg harvested the napkins and then re-did my lipstick. I lay down again and got into position.

"I’ll tell Will that everything is Ok, Freemont," she said, " You go back to the observation room."

So the routine began once again.

"Here come three teenage girls" Said Freemont. "Looks like they might be some of Lorell’s classmates."

"Serves her right!, the bitch!" said one of the girls to my surprise.

"SHHHH Shhhhh. Said another one. You shouldn’t say such things about the dead."

"But she was SOOO stuck up. She thought that she was Soooo much better than everybody else."

"Hey LOOK! She’s smiling! I saw it!" said another.

"GO ON!" replied her friend skeptically. "Your imagination is playing games with you."

"Yeah, this is too spooky. We don’t need to be hanging around here."

"OK , Rick they are leaving. Be careful! There is a woman sitting in one of the pews, praying."

I was glad the girls had left. It was all I could do to keep a straight face. One of them must have caught me twitch my lip a bit, judging from her comment.

" Here come a couple of women," Said the voice in my ear.

Suddenly, something lightly touched my nose. "What was it?" my mind screamed. Then it lifted off and I felt it on my chin. It moved around in quick jerky motions and then landed on my cheek. "A goddamn FLY!" I thought as I resisted the urge to brush it away.

I didn’t hear a word the women were saying. I was concentrating so much on keeping still as the fly crawled along my lips and frighteningly close to my nostrils.

I felt a swish of air. One of the women must have brushed the fly away with a wave of her hand--- "Thank GOD!"

"Here come three boys." Warned Freemont. "Some more classmates, I suppose."

"Hey! Check it out!" Said one of them.

"Cool!" said another, though not really all that sincere.

"Whatya scared of, Jim? She’s only a dead body" Chided another.

"OH boy!" I thought to myself. Could I have some fun with THESE guys. Too bad I had to play this thing straight for my Uncle’s sake.

"Well, if you are so brave, let me see you KISS her!"

OH GOD! This was getting serious!

"You’re crazy Zack! I could catch some disease or something."

"You’re Just Chicken!

"Yeah! Then YOU kiss her!"

"I’ll touch her."

"Go on, I dare ya!"

I felt a finger poke me near my waist.

"Hey NOT on her dress on her SKIN!"

A finger quickly touched my shoulder. I stayed perfectly still. LORD how I wished I could have opened my eyes and hollered BOO! at that moment. Cletus would have had to come in with a mop bucket.

"EWWWWW!. You’re SICK, you know that, Zack?"

" Yuck! I got some kind of powder on my hand."

"Don’t wipe it off on ME!" said one of them as I heard them walk away.

Over the next couple of hours, people continued to come in small groups. Some were quiet, some were obviously sad. A few didn’t care, they were either curious or felt that they were obligated to come.

Every thirty minutes or so, Uncle Will would latch the doors and give me a short break. He and Fremont lifted me out of the Casket and I got to walk around a bit and stretch my legs. It also felt so good to breathe. Holding your breath can get tiresome. All too soon, though, I was dropped back into the box and prepared for another Thirty Minute marathon session.

The last half-hour of Visitation, more Friends and Family members began to show up. People started sticking things in the casket next to me. There were CD’s, notes and cheap jewelry. Mostly though, they left fuzzy stuffed toys. These weren’t too bad, but they placed several of them much too close to my head.

Now my nose was starting to itch. I felt that I was in danger of sneezing. Damn! How I wished that I could communicate with Freemont as easily as he could talk to me.

I knew that there were at least fifteen people in the room. Most were gathered into small groups, either talking about Lorell or catching up on their own friendships. Fremont was good about letting me know when someone came close.

I actually DID get kissed lightly on the forehead and cheeks a few times. Fremont had been quick about warning me however, and I was able to maintain my composure. Gosh! It still grossed me out that some people would even consider kissing a dead body, even if it WAS a dead friend or relative.

Then there were the FLASHBULBS! I almost flinched every time one of them went off. My mother had often commented that she could think of anything more tasteless than taking pictures of dead bodies lying in state at funerals. I remember how angry she was at her cousin for sending a photo of her Uncle, in his coffin at his funeral. The cousin thought that she was doing a good deed.

Unfortunately, I just KNEW, that at least once, a flash had startled me into opening my eyes for a split second. Because of the glare, I am sure that nobody else saw it, but someone is going to have an interesting surprise when they get their photos back from the processor.

Lorell’s mother came by near the end of the visiting session. She was emotionally distraught, to say the least. Her lamentations almost made ME want to cry. I could feel moisture accumulating in my eyes. "OH GOD!" I thought. "What if a tear" runs out of my eye and down my cheek?" The game would be ALL over! Curse my body’s involuntary reactions!

Fortunately, Lorell’s mother was taken out soon enough. I (subtly) breathed a slight sigh of relief. –Then the damn FLY came back!

I endured another five or ten minutes of pure hell. I was fighting the urge to sneeze, cry and sweat. The fly was crawling all over my face. He might have had a few of his friends join him.

It this ordeal didn’t end soon, I would blow everything. If Uncle Will thought he had troubles before, just let him try to explain how Lorell’s Corpse was still alive.

The Last visitor had finally left and Uncle Will had no sooner latched the chapel doors when "AHH CHOOO!" I finally sneezed. I could hold it back no longer. I hadn’t a second to spare.

It was now two Hours until the funeral. Uncle Will And Freemont, once again lifted me out of the Casket and set me upright on the floor. I gulped down a Coke and finished eating the remains of my cheeseburger.

I had the serious need to "take a leak" and I tottered towards the side door. "Wait a second!" said Uncle Will as he ran ahead of me, opened the door and looked both ways down the hallway. "We have to make sure that there are no guests still wandering around. OK, it looks clear. Go straight to the Bathroom and don’t waste any time. Get back in here on the double."

My heels clop, clop, clopped as I carefully walked down the hall. I found the Men’s room, took a glance at myself as I passed the Mirror (Shudder) and walked to the urinal. I pulled up the slit of the dress, and pulled down the waist of the tights, whipped out my tool and did my business.

I studied how strange I looked in the mirror, as I washed my hands. It wasn’t ME at ALL in the mirror. It was really a strange feeling.

In the Hall, the door of the Men’s room had no sooner closed behind me when . . .

The Ladies’ room door nearly swung out in front of me, and a middle-aged woman emerged. She looked at me frozen, for a split second, before her eyes began to grow bigger.

I have NEVER heard a scream like that in all my life! She then fell unconscious to the floor.

"What happened? Did I kill her?" Terrifying thoughts ran through my mind. I heard people coming down the hall. What was I going to do?

I ducked back into the men’s room. I knew things could progress rapidly from bad to worse if I met someone ELSE who wasn’t a part of my Uncle’s crazy plan.

I watched through the partially open door to see what was going to happen. Several Men, Uncle Will, and Freemont included helped the lady to her feet.

She was Hysterical! "I saw Lorell! I saw Lorell!" she repeatedly cried.

The men led the poor woman back down the corridor. "There, There, Misses Nevin, Its all ok." They said as they patted her back and attempted to comfort her.

Uncle Will, hung back and pushed his way into the Men’s room, where he figured I’d be. He was RED with rage.

"I didn’t know she was there! I swear! She was in the Ladies room when you checked the hall."

He didn’t say anything, not at first. He cooled down a bit. "Thank God we can pass this incident off as another ‘ghost story’, or as the visions of an emotionally distraught woman."

He thought for a moment "Quick thinking son, hiding in here like you did. You would have been a lot more difficult to explain away if one of those other people had seen you."

"Let me know when the coast is clear." I said.

My uncle looked down the hall once again. "OK, GO!"

I staggered down the hall as quickly as I could, back to the side door. Uncle Will reached it first. He tried the knob. It was LOCKED! He fumbled for his keys. We could hear more voices echoing in the hallway. Someone was coming!

Finally the door popped open and he threw me inside. I landed on my butt on the carpet. Uncle Will slammed shut the door in the nick of time.

Uncle Will and Fremont placed me back into the Casket once more. By now I knew the drill. I also knew that it would be safer for me to lay in the box than to be walking around, "haunting" the parlor until Funeral time.

Freemont and my uncle left me alone in the chapel while they attended to some last minute details.

I was nearly asleep, when I suddenly heard what looked like a vacuum cleaner running. It was Cletus. He was vacuuming up, getting the chapel ready for the big event.

I didn’t think that He was in on the plan, so I decided to play it safe, and lie still until he finished up.

I heard him progress from the pew area, to the front of the chapel. He then vacuumed behind the podium and behind the coffin area. I felt him push the casket out of his way somewhat. He then stopped and I then heard a clicking sound to my left. He had released the locking bracket that held up the lid. His intent was to close the Casket lid so as to make it easier to roll out of his way.

NO he WASN’T!

NO! I hollered as he began to lower the lid. He looked into my eyes and I looked into his. I had just recently seen THAT expression before.

"YAHHHHH!" He exclaimed and lost his grip. There was a loud SLAM! Immediately followed by the sickening sound, from beneath the side padding, of dull "click". It had latched!

The horror of utter darkness reigned! Now it was MY turn to yell. EYAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! GET ME OUT! GET ME OUT!

It would have been bad enough if the Casket was more or less an empty box, but the padding was all around. I couldn’t move my arms. The padding above pushed into my face. I felt like I was being suffocated in the dark.

"Who was going to rescue me?" For all I knew Cletus might be in a dead faint on the floor. If not that would he be lucid enough to ask Uncle Will for help or would he have run away in fear?

I was on the verge of hysteria when suddenly I heard the rattle of a key in a lock and the lid swung open. "OH GLORIOUS LIGHT!"

"Are you OK?" asked Uncle Will. As he looked down on me. I could see Cletus standing behind him, with his baseball cap in his hand and a worried look on his face.

"S . . . Sorry Rick." He said, "I didn’t know it wuz you."

It took Meg nearly a half-hour to repair my makeup. I had left a lot of it on the overhead padding when I panicked.

A naphtha soaked rag was used to clean the makeup off of the padding. Its odor was overpowering, but it did the job.

Soon everything was in order again. I was once again Lorell, the casket lining was clean, ‘Radio Freemont’ was back on the air and the naphtha fumes had dispersed. The biggest challenge, the Funeral service, come was yet to come.

"Now look, Rick," Said Uncle Will. " We WIIL have to close the lid down on you at the end of the Service. It will be only for a minute or so until we can roll you out to the back room. And get the other Casket. Will you be OK with that?"

I swallowed hard "OK," I Said "but promise that you won’t leave me before you open it up again."

"Sure thing Rick. Ill open you up as soon as we get into the back room, promise."

I settled into my pose. The front chapel doors were opened. People started to come in, one by one. Fortunately, most of them had already been to the visitation, so not many of them walked up to take a close look at me.

Of course, I didn’t see any of this, I had to rely on Freemont’s descriptions. So far it seemed easier than the visitation. Sure, there were more people in the room, but they were sitting at the pews and not looking into my face.

A preacher walked up to the podium and began to talk about how sad it was that a young woman such as Lorell Kelton had to die. That was tempered with the assurance that it was God’s will and that she surely was now in heaven.

Then an endless parade of individuals, consisting of school teachers, relatives, friends and classmates gave short little speeches about how well Lorell was liked and how good a person she was. I recognized one of the voices as the same one who called her a "bitch" during the visitation.

The preacher returned to the podium and said a prayer. Uncle Will was now present. No doubt he was there to close the coffin. THANK GOD! My ordeal was nearly over! We had pulled it off!

The preacher moved over to the open coffin to pronounce one last blessing. Heard him strike a match to light the large candle that was on the stand near the head of the coffin.

He must have gotten the match too close to the naphtha soaked padding on the coffin lid. I really don’t know what happened, but suddenly there was a "POOF" sound accompanied by a gasp from the audience.

I saw the light and felt the heat from behind my closed eyelids. My eyes snapped open! MY GOD! The padding on the top of the lid was on FIRE!

Almost immediately there was a SPLASH over my head. I was pelted by drops of water and about half a dozen yellow chrysanthemums. The flames were out.

The quick thinking reverend had snatched up a flower vase and, with a ‘dead on’ hit if its contents, had doused the fire.

Most unfortunately, by now I had snapped up into a sitting position from both shock and surprise. I found myself staring eyeball to eyeball at the open mouthed preacher. I couldn’t tell if the man was horrified or happy. He was certainly surprised.

The vase seemed to slip from his hand and fall to the floor. "PRAISE THE LORD!" he exclaimed at the top of his voice. Whether he was expressing a joyful prayer or simply a "polite expletive" I couldn’t be sure. The only thing I WAS sure of was that I had screwed up--- BIG TIME!

Dress or no dress, I wasted no time getting out of that coffin. In less than a second I squirmed forward and tumbled out onto the floor. I scrambled to my feet and frantically looked for a way out.

Inside the chapel it was pure pandemonium. Everybody, save for those who weren’t slumped across the backs of the pews in a dead faint (or worse?) was on their feet. Most seemed frozen in wide-eyed terror and wonder. The rest were just screaming. A small group was clawing at the double doors at the front of the chapel room desperately trying to run out. Unfortunately, the doors swung INWARD.

I ran to the other side of the chapel, stumbling on my heels and knocking down wreaths and flowerpots.

I found the door that led to the outside of the building. I made for it and ran out as fast as my sandals would allow me. I could still hear the screams and chaos I created as I ran behind the building. People were chasing me. I didn’t know who they were or what they wanted. I had absolutely no desire to find out.

I ducked into a hedge at the back of the parking lot and sat tight. Uncle Will, Freemont, and several men, even a few women, ran by. They looked down the streets and behind the hearse parking area, but they didn’t see me.

Not long after that, I saw at least three ambulances and two police cars pull into the parking area.

"OH LORD what have I done?" I lamented to myself.

Soon there was even a Television news crew on the site. I felt sick. I was only six blocks away from home, but there was no way I was going to be able to walk home, in the open, dressed like this.

I, or rather Lorell, was probably the "most wanted" "fugitive" in town right now. I had to get out of this outfit.

I pulled off the gloves and the crown easy enough. With some difficulty and a lot of pain I managed to remove the wig.

I reached around behind me, but to my horror, I could not reach the zipper of the gown. I HAD to get it off. In that long white skirt I would be recognized as "Lorell" a mile away, wig or no wig.

But then I started to think. "What was I going to wear if I managed to get the gown off?" The cops would pick me up just as fast if I walked home naked. I got an idea.

With a piece of broken glass, I managed to knick the fabric of the dress near the top of the slit. I then began to tear it and pull it on around. A few seconds later I had a short white mini dress, instead of a long gown. With its sequins, it was still a bit "flashy" to be seen on the street with, but it was a lot less conspicuous than a long gown would be.

Hopefully, without the long skirt, gloves and the blonde hair, I would not have that "Lorell" look that everyone in the city, by now would be looking for.

Of course, I was going to still be dressed as a girl. The makeup and the nails were not going to be removable, not out here ‘in the wild’ anyway. I might as well make them work for me.

I took my hand and "fluffed up" my longish boy’s hair a bit, to make it look more "girlish". I couldn’t see what I looked like, and too bad I didn’t have a comb. I supposed that I had a kind of "punk" look.

As soon as it got dark, I ventured out of my hiding place in the hedge and began walking, as best as I could, towards home.

I tried to be calm. I did not want to attract any attention. "I’m just a girl walking home from a date", I imagined to my self, "yes, that’s a good story."

I tried to imagine how a girl walks. Smaller steps, a little slower, a sway to my hips. Still, I couldn’t be sure if I was doing it right. "Lord, just let me get home!" I prayed to myself.

Suddenly I was aware of a car slowly following me on the street. I tried to stay calm. "Do they think I might be "Lorell?" I wondered.

The car pulled closer to the curb, but kept pace with me. I tried not to notice, I kept walking.

A young man leaned out the passenger window. "Hey babe! How much do you charge?"

"OH GOD! They think I’m a hooker!" I realized. "How could things get any worse?" I was about to find out.

The car, unexpectedly, suddenly took off and roared down the street. I soon saw why. A Police car pulled up next to me. "This was it! My life’s over!" I thought.

The policeman seemed friendly enough though.

"Miss, can you tell me why you are out on the street tonight?" He asked.

"I live just a few doors down from here." I replied. "I’m walking home. My boyfriend, my EX boyfriend kicked me out of his car when I wouldn’t put out for him." I was proud of my cover story.

"Lets see some ID." Said the policeman.

I realized that I didn’t have any ID, I also didn’t have a purse. That inspired another creative lie.

"OH Gosh! I left it my boyfriend’s car!"

The policeman gave me a skeptical look.

"Hey I live here!" I continued "Six twenty five. My mother’s home, she will tell you who I am."

"OK Miss, get in the car. We will go to six twenty five. If you are lying to me, you can spend the night in Jail."

Reluctantly, I climbed into the back seat. I was sure that my mother would rescue me from this situation, but now I would have to face her dressed up like a girl.---"Oh the humiliation!"

The policeman walked me to the front porch and rang the doorbell. My mother greeted us at the door. I was mortified. Imagine being a parent and having a policeman bring your son home—dressed as a girl, and accused of being a hooker! This would kill her! I could only hope that I would have died from embarrassment first.

"Mrs. Hartley?, Is THIS your Daughter?" Asked the Policeman, before I could utter a word.

"Why NO!" my mother replied, "I don’t have a Daughter.

"I thought so," Said the policeman, as he began to push me back down the steps.

"MOM! ITS ME RICK!" I managed to yell.

"Rick?"

"OH GOD it IS you RICK!" my mother exclamed in near hysterics. "Why are you dressed like that? What happened to your face?"

"Son, why didn’t you tell us about this before? We could get you some help. Your Uncle Will knows some very good therapists."

The Policeman winced and rolled his eyes.

"This is all Uncle Will’s idea!" I shouted.

As I told her, why I was dressed like this and what had happened. She seemed to grow more and more angry. It was the last time I ever heard her call Uncle Will, "Will". From then on her brother was always referred to as "That Stupid Jackass."

The policeman couldn’t stop laughing. It made my mother all the more angry. Finally he decided to get back in his car.

Mother took me inside where we washed off the make up and got me back into boy’s clothing again.

 

My uncle never forgave me and has always blamed me for the loss of the family business.

My mother’s relationship with "That stupid Jackass" was never the same again either. She held him responsible for coercing me into participating in his scheme, which might have easily gotten me into legal trouble also, not to mention the pain and humiliation I had to suffer.

The "Jackass" should have "taken his lumps" and owned up to the accidental cremation in the first place. Things would have certainly been a lot easier for him.

At last count There had been Seven Lawsuits. And two more were pending. Most were for injuries suffered when the plaintiffs fainted and injured themselves in the fall, and for the two, thankfully non-fatal, heart attacks. The remaining suits were for various "physical and psychological trauma" complaints.

In addition to the lawsuits Uncle Will and Freemont both lost their licenses to operate a Funeral home and incurred heavy fines. My own minor status prevented me from being brought up on charges of accessory to perpetrating a fraud. Fortunately, the Judge was very understanding, and when he stopped laughing, released me to the custody of my Mother.

Uncle Will never Did pay me the Three hundred dollars.

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Marina Twelve. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.