Z Day -6

JAMES

The funeral home was tastefully bland. Its beige walls had the paintings you would expect to find at one of those weekend art shows. Mainly the type of stuff you put over your couch to make people think you had taste when you didn’t have a clue. Uncomfortable chairs decorated the walls along with small tables, each with a box of tissues for those recently bereaved.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The voice startled me. Maybe I was a bit more off than I thought.

“Yes, uh, Debra Sable?” I said.

The woman was only a few years younger than me, wearing a much too simple business skirt. Its blandness screamed, “I’m here for you.”

“And you are…” she continued, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Her son, James Sable,” I said.

Her face automatically flickered to a well-prepared visage of somberness. “Yes, my name is Stacy Wells. Come this way, please.”

I followed her into a small viewing room off the side of the large entryway. I noted three similar rooms, each with a small sign in front describing the room’s occupant.

“There is a book,” she said, pointing to a small table next to the door, “if you wish to sign.”

“Maybe later,” I said.

“Of course.”

The room had a few couches and chairs along the walls with cream-colored drapes and fresco pillars. The coffin sat at the head of the room with the top lid open.

I saw my mother's body lying at rest as we approached. She wore a pale blue outfit and was done up with light makeup. She looked at peace and almost normal. I continued to stare, transfixed by my cold kin. While this wasn’t the first dead body I’d seen, it was the most personal.

“Everything has been taken care of,” The sound of her voice startled me again and broke my stare. “The service will be tomorrow at 9 a.m.,” she said. “The viewing room is open until 8 p.m. this evening.” She paused a moment to see if I was going to say anything. When I didn’t, she continued, “Is there anything I can do for you right now, Mr. Sable? Some coffee, tea perhaps?”

“No, thank you,” I said, turning towards her.

“I’ll be in the office if you need anything; it’s on the right from where you came in,” She gave a well-practiced smile and left the room.

When I turned back to the coffin, a half-burned hand reached for me. I froze at the sight of the badly burned Airman who had replaced my mother in the coffin. Its face was unrecognizable as the nose was gone, one eye boiled away, and a cheekbone was visible. The familiar smell of burning fuel and flesh hit me like a physical blow.

“Heeeelp!” the creature rasped, one charred hand outstretched to me in desperation.

I blinked, and the creature was gone, my mother having returned to her resting place. I reached out and grasped the lip of the coffin to steady myself. Its polished wood was cool to the touch and helped to bring me back from the triggered flashback.

Those horrid memories hadn’t bothered me in a long time. I blinked hard and tried to remember the breathing exercises the shrinks taught me. The smell of the flowers on the surrounding tables helped clear out the memory's stench.

I glanced at my right hand and noticed it was trembling slightly. As I shook it out, trying to rid myself of the shakes, I had to think back to when I had my last injection. At this rate, I would need another much sooner than I had planned.

“James?” a familiar voice called me from the door.

I quickly hid my hand in my pocket and turned to find my sister in the doorway. “Miria…” I whispered as she rushed to embrace me.

I hadn’t seen my little sister since her wedding many years before. She was maybe ten centimeters shorter than me and was still sporting her mousy brown hair cut short around her shoulders. Her skin had that natural tan look to it, a stark contrast to my pale complexion. We had always chalked it up to her getting more of the American Indian from our mother’s side than the Scotch/Irish I’d inherited from our father’s side.

“When did you get into town?” she asked, stepping back.

“Just now, came straight here,” I said.

“You should have called me; I would have met you.”

“Don’t be silly, sis, you’ve got work,” I smiled.

She gave me a stern look, “If you think I’m in any shape to work, you’re out of your mind.”

Last I heard, she worked for a small law firm on the outskirts of our hometown of Austin. It seemed the more “well-to-do” businesses were opening small business parks out Southwest of the city’s limits.

“I’m glad your boss let you have time off,” I said.

She nodded and glanced at Mom before looking back at me. “Been here long?”

“Just a few minutes,” I said.

Stacy stuck her head back in. She must have heard our voices and come to see if there was anything she could do. We waved her off, and she bowed out.

“They did pretty good, huh?” Miria said.

“Yeah, actually, they did,” I agreed.

We stood silently, looking at our mother, when a cough came at the door.

“Hey, hon,” Miria said, glancing over her shoulder. “You remember my husband, Richard, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said as Richard crossed the room, hand outstretched. I pulled my still trembling hand from my pocket just long enough to shake the offered hand before hiding it once more. “How’s it going?” I asked as Richard moved over to stand beside Miria.

“Oh, as well as can be expected,” Richard nodded.

Richard was a bit taller than I was, with short brown hair and a stocky build that was more muscle than flab. From what I could remember, he was some sort of contractor, but my failing memory never hung onto the finer details of what exactly he did. It didn’t matter as long as he was good to Miria. So far, from the occasional e-mail, everything seemed to be going well between the two. So, well, in fact, they had been talking about trying to have a baby.

“Dad should be getting in late tonight; we’re gonna pick him up at the airport. He’s staying with us, but you’re also more than welcome,” Miria said.

“That’s alright. I already have a place out at the airport,” I said.

“We didn’t know if you would make it or not,” Richard added.

“Yeah, the military managed to let me go for this. Deaths are one of the few things they actually seem to care about when it comes to family.” I didn’t mention I practically had to threaten my commander to let me go. I had been in the Air Force for over ten years and still found myself trying to upsell them when I had the chance. “If you hadn’t sent that Red Cross message, I’d probably still be in the sandbox. Thanks.”

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“It’s alright. I’m just glad they let you come home,” Miria said.

“Yeah, well, your mom only dies once, right?” I said, sounding a bit more callous than I meant. I was never a big family man, to be honest. It wasn’t that I disliked family. I just wasn’t the most open person. I took care of my family, but I’d be the last person to organize a yearly reunion or anything.

A man’s scream echoed down the hall from the direction of the office, causing us to move to the door. A man in scrubs was speaking frantically to a man in a suit in the office. We couldn’t hear more than the inflection in his voice as the glass muffled most of the noise. He was distraught over something, but before we could learn more, the suit noticed they had an audience and quickly pulled the man through the back door and out of sight.

“I wonder what all that was about?” Miria continued to stare in the direction of the office.

“Not a clue,” I said.

We moved back to the coffin for a few more minutes.

“Don’t they put a guard or something on these rooms?” My job’s mindset always made me think about security, even when it was inappropriate.

“Why?” Miria asked.

“Well, I mean, I saw three other rooms like this. If there’s other folk in there, what’s to keep someone from just walking in here and…I dunno, messing with them?” I asked.

“Who would want to?” Miria said.

“Oh, I don’t know. There are plenty of weirdoes out there. This is Austin, after all,” Richard said.

“Yeah, Richard, keep Austin weird and all that, but I don’t think they had dead people in mind when they thought up that business slogan,” Miria said.

Richard shrugged.

I wasn’t sure how long you were supposed to hang around one of these things and was beginning to wonder when Richard rescued me.

“I need a drink,” Richard said.

“I second that,” I agreed and turned to Miria.

“I guess, but let’s not be too long…what James said has got me uneasy now,” she said.

“Sorry, sis…didn’t mean to,” I said.

She shrugged, and we made our way out to the parking lot.

“Where you want to go?” Miria asked.

“The Platter’s close by,” Richard answered his wife. When she shrugged, he turned to me. “You want to jump in with us?”

“Sure. I can grab my rental when we come back,” I said.

“Cool.” Richard unlocked his truck, and we all piled in.

The Platter was only a few minutes down the road heading towards the university. It was a small place crowded into one of those yuppie strip malls, the type that went for the more modern look by putting apartments on top of all the businesses. Double the rent was great for the landlord, but there were only half the parking spots for the customers.

It took Richard several minutes, but he eventually managed to snag a parking space close to the bar.

The bar was crowded, but we got one of the few remaining tables. Apparently, the Platter was a microbrewery. When I opened the menu, I learned it boasted over 400 different types of beer and more that rotated daily.

Richard explained the gold and silver plates nailed high up on the wall were from those who had sampled all the different types. “200 punches on your card, all different beers, mind you, gets you a silver plate. Gold is for the 400+ club.”

“What do you get when you drink 400 beers?” I asked.

He looked at me with mild aggravation. “A gold plate.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Thank you,” Miria chimed in, cutting Richard’s reply off. “That’s what I’ve been saying. I’ve offered to buy him a real gold plate; it would be cheaper than these $12 beers.”

“It’s not the same!” Richard defended.

“Yes, dear, now tell the nice lady what you want,” Miria patted his hand.

We were saved by a waitress coming up to take our order. While Richard fished out a meter-long piece of paper, supposedly with all the beers he’d tried so far on it, Miria turned to me and whispered. “I don’t mind really. I’m almost to my silver plate!”

“So, how is the military treating you?” Richard asked after we all put in our orders.

“Oh, you know. They say, ‘Go here,’ and I go. It’s the same ole job no matter where you go, just different scenery,” I said.

“You’re Air Force, right?” Richard asked.

“Yeah,” I answered slowly.

“What’s that mean?” Miria noted the tone of my voice.

“Yes. I’m officially in the AF, but sometimes I get farmed out to work with sister services,” I explained.

“How’s that?” Richard said.

“With everything going on nowadays, the regular guys get tied up doing jobs they’re not supposed to be doing. There’s a lot of that going around now. So, we come in and backfill while they’re off doing their assignment,” I shrugged.

“You’re still a cop, right?” Richard asked.

“Yeah, for the most part,” I didn’t want to share what I really did for the military. Bad memories started to rattle their cages in my head, so I changed the subject. “Did you have any problems with the arrangements for Mom, Miria?”

“No. She had no will that I know of, but she’d mentioned to me some stuff she wanted a while back. The rest I just kind of filled in,” she said.

“Well, you’ve done awesome sis. You need any help?” I asked.

She thought for a minute. “Not really…maybe when it comes to the house. I know she’s got a crap-load of stuff to go through.”

“Yeah, she did like to collect stuff, didn’t she?” I smiled.

“You could say that. Her unicorn collection is world record size,” She laughed.

When we returned to the funeral home, an ambulance was on the side with flashing lights.

“That’s odd; I don’t think I’ve ever seen an ambulance at a funeral home before,” Richard smirked.

We learned one of the staff had hurt themselves, and an ambulance had been called. “It’s nothing to worry about,” Stacy assured us, “everything’s alright now.”

I didn’t know if it was my cop instincts, but I felt Stacy wasn’t being entirely truthful.

A few relatives stopped by to offer their condolences; most I had not seen in over ten years. I relied heavily on Miria to tell me who everyone was. She helped me fill in those awkward silences when I’d shake hands with someone and then stand there awkwardly.

I was never good at small talk, but I was getting plenty of practice tonight. I hadn’t been home for a visit in over five years, having spent most of my time overseas. There hadn’t been much use for small talk over there.

“Oh, I saw Shae the other day,” Miria said out of the blue.

“Shae?” I stammered.

“Yeah, you know, that girl you were so hung up about in high school,” she said.

“Isn’t that the one you proposed to?” Richard added.

“Oh yeah,” Miria continued, “he used to follow her around like a puppy. He was so wrapped around her finger. I’m glad she turned him down. I would have hated seeing you that whipped.”

“Where?” I demanded, a bit stronger than I intended.

“What?” Miria was taken aback by my tone. “Now, where did I see her? Oh, it was on the news. They were doing a spot on one of those live action role playing (LARP) groups you used to be into. I guess she’s still in it because she was running around dressed up like the rest of them.”

“Are you sure?” I tried to say calmly as I fought to control my rapidly beating heart.

“Well, pretty sure. I mean, she looked pretty much like I remembered her,” she eyed me. “Oh James, tell me you’re over her.”

It must have been pretty evident on my face I wasn’t.

“Great, now I’m sorry I mentioned it,” Miria said.

“What? Uh, no, I mean, yeah. Don’t worry about it. I’m just jet-lagged, don’t mind me,” I tried to play it off as I realized the shaking in my hand started working up my arm. “Actually, I should probably head back to the hotel. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Miria and I turned and looked at our mother before embracing once more. “See you in the morning,” she said.

“I’m glad they let you come home. It’s good to see you again,” Richard said.

I nodded and shook Richard’s hand before making for the door. As I reached the door I heard them start to whisper behind me.

“He seem a bit odd to you?” Miria asked.

“How so?” Richard asked.

“I dunno, just…I don’t know,” she sighed.

“You’re tired, baby, let’s go home.”

I glanced back to see Richard put his arm around Miria as she nodded. She looked over her shoulder at our mom one last time before leaving.

∞Ω∞

JAMES

I tossed my suitcases across the hotel room until I found the small, hard Pelican case bearing the USAF symbol. Punching in the codes, I quickly opened the digital locks and removed one of the small metal tubes. The safety cap snapped off easily as I pressed it to my arm for ten seconds.

A sharp pain in my arm was followed by the sweet ecstasy of the drug coursing quickly through my arm and into my body. My veins lit on fire, warming me from within like a shot of good whiskey. I had almost waited too long; my teeth were chattering when I returned to my hotel room. Cursing myself for cutting it so close, I vowed to be more careful.

Seeing Mom’s body affected me more than I thought it would. Sure, I had seen plenty of bodies in my line of work; I’d even volunteered to be part of human remains transfers for the fallen. But none of them had been family. Seeing her there, so…still, it didn’t seem right.

My mom had always been busy. If it wasn’t working, it was running my sister and me to whatever sport or club we were involved with at the time. I knew I’d not been an easy child to deal with, especially when it came to school. But my mom had always been there, trying to take care of us kids no matter what.

I shook my head and smiled at the memories. The hard part was over, I told myself. Tomorrow would be the funeral, and I could make it through that.

But now, after all this time, Shae had resurfaced. She had been the love of my life, as much as one could be while in high school. She was mysterious and much more mature than I had been at the time, me being in high school and her college age. We had been more or less inseparable for two years before I had asked her to marry me. She’d never given me a proper answer as she’d disappeared the day after I proposed.[1] I’d tried not to take it personally, but it had devastated me.

I’d spent a year of my life seeking her out and nearly ruined my education for a third time. But it was like she had disappeared off the face of the planet. In the 14 years that ensued, I never found a trace of her until now.

While I couldn’t directly blame her for the string of failed relationships since then, I could credit her with the fact that none of them compared to her memory. I’d spent passionate times in exotic and sometimes terrifying locations, but they were all hollow in comparison.

I thought I’d moved on, but after my reaction to Miria’s words tonight, it was apparent I hadn’t.

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[1] For more information, see Book 0. [Fair warning, it’s “teenage romancy” (and welcome back to those who already read it) –Rhiannon]