After a long Friday in which I tended six girls who all got sick around the same time and tried unsuccessfully to keep the others away, I was relaxing. On Saturday mornings I get up early and head to work at the Undertaker's, but I'm never expected to arrive until at least ten-thirty or eleven. Of course Madame Richardson doesn't know that.
I spend my time of freedom in the park thinking about all that has happened over the week and mentally reminding myself which day was whose birthday. I reminded myself that Aldi* wanted a snow globe.
Randomly I remembered someone I met on Thursday. What was that Flamboyant redhead's name? Grell I think. He was odd to me. Very few people actually talked to me besides the girls and the Undertaker, yet he walked up and started talking to me like we were old friends. Why? He didn't even seem to want anything from the conversation except a compliment. It was… nice.
Most guys who tried to talk to me on the streets and called me pretty wanted something else in return for their compliment. Thankfully I had gotten out of every bad situation like that so far.
I convinced myself that I wasn't worth their time and now they don't think I am. Really I'm not worth their time, but the girls are worth my time.
I glanced at my wristwatch. I had ten minutes before I had to be at work. Just enough time to stop by the thrift shop and get Aldi that snow globe before getting to work. I bought the present and got to work before ten forty-five.
When I arrived at the Funeral Parlor I heard laughter and saw that his sign had fallen off, again. I promised myself that when I saved enough I'd buy him a sign that was for beside the door instead of above it. That way the people who were asking a favor would be able to get out of the building without having to wait for me to unblock the front door.
I sighed and retrieved the ladder and tools from a small shed beside my workplace. When I finished, the guest walked out the door. They looked surprised when they saw me on the ladder, checking to make sure that the sign was secure as I could get it. I waved and they walked on. Then I got down, put the stuff away, and headed inside.
"I'm telling you, boss, that sign of yours is going to hit someone one day and you'll have a lawsuit from their family." I said a little bit teasingly.
He giggled before saying, "You worry too much dearie. That sign will be fine, it's been that way for years and no one ever got hurt. Plus, what did I tell you about calling me boss?"
"I know. It's less of a mouthful then saying Undertaker all the time though and you refuse to tell me your real name." I said.
"Undertaker is the name I've chosen for myself. Why would I need another?" He said giggling again. "Now come, I have a few coffins that need a woman's touch on the lining."
"Fine. What personalities died this time?" I said rolling my eyes at his antics.
I said personalities because that's how I choose the lining fabric. When a family needs a coffin, they want something special for the departing of their loved one. Sometimes there is a certain color that expresses that person's personality in life so much that it brings the family to tears. Given most demand white for the inner lining as usual, but some either didn't specify or paid more to get it done.
"The family said that she loved to paint the rain when it was pouring." he said as I walked over to the lining swatch table.
"hmmm…" I muttered, "The gray of a storm cloud or the pale blue of the rain itself? Witch do you think would complement her more?"
"I'd say the storm cloud, but I believe the family would prefer the blue." He replied as he peeked over my shoulder at the colors.
"Blue it is then. How much do we need?" I asked.
After Undertaker answered the question I filled out an order, giving a little leeway should anything go wrong in the process of the crafting. I went to the cloth shop a couple blocks away with the order and came back with the cloth.
He smiled when I handed the lining to him.
"Perfect! She's sadly my only patient today, so you can have the rest of the day off if you'd wish. Of course if you don't want to you can stay here and tell me jokes until you have to rush home to the 'mistress of distress' as you occasionally call the dear Madame Richardson. Oh, I do like the sound of the second one better. Would you stay?" He asked, his eyes slightly glowing through his bangs.
"Sorry, boss, I have to get Aldi's present wrapped and get it to her. She's turning twelve today."
Undertaker looked disappointed, but after a moment smiled and replied, "Twelve? She's almost grown up isn't she?"
"I'll tell her you said that." I said making my way out the door. "See you next week."
I took a shortcut though the alleyway and headed to the place I currently called home. Aldi was ecstatic when she saw what I brought her. It earned me a hug and a laugh from the usually timid girl.
I left again before Madame Richardson even realized that I'd returned. I went for a walk in the park again and I saw a flash of red on the roof of a nearby house*. When I took a better look whatever it was had disappeared.
I sat down on a bench and fell asleep. When I woke up I realized that I needed to get home before I was locked out again. Being on the streets one night was bad enough for me.
A/N Aldi* Her name was going to be Geraldine, so Aldi is a nickname and not a reference to a certain set of grocery stores in the US
Red flash* Yes that was meant to be Grell doing his duties for once to work for his chainsaw privileges. He would have greeted her if he had seen her. She was in the shade of a tree at the time.