67 Sheila Curious Again

Sheila drove Delores to pay their respects at the funeral home where the services were to be held tomorrow. It was a bit odd coming in to view a closed casket. She had seen many funeral homes before. This one was like a hundred others. The face of the man who met them at the door was dour, as expected, but not as pale as the species generally ran since he was Black. Still, for a Black man, he projected professional pale well. They followed him through a room and down a hallway. They passed three unhappy Happy Time co-workers in a room, who did not approach. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement to leave her and Delores alone. The atmosphere carried a faint chemical smell. The carpets were dark and heavy. He guided them into a room with the casket allegedly holding the body of a now twice dead girl. The top was down. She and Delores approached. She never knew what to do with herself at these things. Was she supposed to pray? Say something significant? Her eyes strayed to either side of the casket. For a young dead girl she sure had a lot of flowers. Really a lot of flowers. She wanted to check who sent them, but that didn't feel right. She and Delores stood in front of the casket heads bowed. Delores was depressed but no longer gushing. Even as they were standing there two separate delivery men came in with three more arrangements. The funeral director guided their placement. He stopped and asked, "Are you family?"

Sheila knew that was the wrong question. That it could start a gusher. She answered for Delores, "Yes. Yes. She is family."

He accepted the answer without question. "We'll have a special place for you tomorrow."

Sheila guided Delores into the other room and placed her among other Happy Time co-workers. She had not been alone in trying to comfort Delores over the last day. Sheila excused herself to visit the restroom.

As she walked through the dim hallway outside that room she felt drawn back to the casket. The suppressed reporter within her was begging to get answers. She wouldn't see the Father until next week. She knew he would tell her the truth, but a week for a blooded reporter was too long even if she had no deadline to meet. The director was gone and Delores was being consoled by the Happy Time league. She stepped into the room and the casket almost hidden by the flowers packing either side called to her. She stepped up. The answer was so close. She looked around. No one would know. She stepped closer and reached out taking the lid and pushed up. It didn't move. It was too heavy. She had to use two hands and push it up. Still wouldn't move. She bent down. There was a latch. She undid it and pushed the lid up. Oh. My. God. It was her. Of that she did not doubt but Rube lied to Delores. She wasn't burned. Not at all. She lowered the lid. Her heart was beating fast and sweat broke out on her forehead and under her arms and along her back. She had to get under control. She took a few deep breaths. She felt a panic attack.

"Not very pretty is it? I can tell you it hurt…a lot."

She almost fainted. She steadied herself holding onto the casket.

"Come on Sheila. You know me."

She turned to face the voice and it was her. "You're dead." She knew it sounded stupid.

"Seriously?"

The brown eyed version of Millie or Georgia was right here, standing right fucking here. Sheila looked around. They were alone. She was not going to open it again. She latched it. "Who?"

"I'm a ghost. That's my body. What? You didn't believe Rube?"

Sheila moved away from the casket. "I don't understand."

"Sheila. I asked Rube to make sure Delores does not see what they did to me. You can understand why now. Can't you?"

"I'm sorry. Really I am. I do understand. I was just curious. I…"

Sheila closed her eyes, but the image of that face was there. What they did was horrific. It was like no part of her face was uncut, what was still there. My God. Oh My God. She opened them. She was crying, sobbing. She couldn't help it.

Delores walked back in. "You poor dear." She took her into a hug, a tight one. "It'll be OK. We'll get through this together."

She had to make sure Delores did not see Millie's face. The body was all too real and what that someone did was outside of any crime scene pictures she had ever seen, or any murder victim she had ever been allowed to see. They walked back to join the others, Delores holding her steady.