Becoming Death (12 page)

I knew I should have gone home when the funeral ended. I had gotten the answers I had come for. Maybe it was his green eyes, the way Derek said my name or how he had placed his hand on my back to guide me back to my car and invited me to join him at the reception. A simple touch had caused my brain to melt into a pile of goo. Keeping up the lie was a bad idea, but that didn’t stop me.

He held my hand, pulling me inside the reception hall that had been tastefully decorated in the seventies. “This way to the good stuff.”

I blushed, hoping my hands wouldn’t turn into a sloppy mess of nerves. “Been here before?”

“Yeah, I’m here at least twice a month. The owner refuses to update the decor, so this place is only popular for funerals and wakes nowadays.” He pointed at the orange chair backs.

“True. No one in their right mind—” I jumped as I nearly ran into a stuffed bear. “What the hell is that?”

Derek chuckled against his fist. “That’s Blue. I should have probably warned you, the owner is a trained taxidermist. He uses this place as a museum for his art.”

I shuddered. “Do I have anymore of his creations to look forward to?”

“A few deer heads, and I think he still has a squirrel on display.”

I stuck out my lip. “He killed a poor little squirrel.”

We stopped in front of the crowded buffet and Derek handed me a plate. He picked food off the table, alternating between putting the food in his mouth and on his plate. I watched some of the guests crying into napkins as they picked at their food.

I held the plate against my stomach and leaned towards Derek. “Are you sure it’s okay we’re doing this? I’m feeling a little uneasy. It feels like stealing.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s fine. Better we eat it, or they’ll just throw it all away. Here, try this.” He picked up a sausage roll and held it to my mouth. “I thought you’d done this before anyway?”

I chewed slowly, realizing he’d caught me in a lie. “I guess I’m just prone to guilt. I feel bad every time I come to one of these.”

“Understandable.” He fingered greedily through the pile of food on his plate as he looked for a secluded corner to relax in. We stopped next to a wall and he leaned against it. “So your boss that hired Cindy, what happened to her? How did she die?”

“Freak accident, she froze to death in a walk-in freezer.” I examined a piece of shrimp.

He paused for a second like he had heard me wrong before laughing out loud. “Wow, that’s one hell of a way to go.”

“She was apparently the first person ever to die that way. Linda always worried she' d die of lung cancer. She tried to stop smoking at least once a month.”

He rubbed his chin. “It least it’s unique. The people we usually work for die of heart attacks, car accidents or of old age.”

I looked down at the floor.

“I know it’s weird but sometimes I think about how I want to die,” he said.

I turned away, hoping he’d take the hint and change the conversion.

“I want a hero death, one where I save puppies from a fire, bring a drowning kid to safety or take a bullet for someone.”

“Okay, Superman, I think you’re in the wrong profession or have been watching too many action movies. The real world isn’t like that.”

“I’m serious. I want my death to mean something. To go out in a blaze of glory.” He waved an
hors-d’oeuvre
at me.

“Well if you keep eating that much junk food, you won’t even make it to your next birthday.”

“I can’t help it, it’s an excellent spread. Someone is trying to make up for a guilty conscience,” he said with a full mouth.

I wrinkled my nose at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“The better the food, the worse whoever is paying for it feels about the person dying. Great food means they must really feel bad about something they did or said just before the client kicked the bucket. Believe me, happens all the time.” He picked at a chicken wing.

I glanced over at Sheryl. “Yeah, that does make perfect sense.”

I opened the door to my apartment and pumped my fist in the air in celebration. “I did it, I finally got a new job,” I said, dancing through the living room.

Aaron bolted from the sofa tossing his bowl of noodles on the table to take my hands and dance with me. “That’s amazing, Mads! It’s about time.” He swung me around the room as he asked me questions. “What’s the job? Where will you be working?”

I felt dizzy as he pulled me close to him and my breath stopped. I stumbled backwards and landed on the sofa.

“So spill,” he said, joining me.

“Now, I need you to be open-minded cause it’s a little weird, but it’s kind of an acting job.”

“If the next words out of your mouth involve video cameras and farm animals I am not going to be able to be open-minded,” he joked.

I puckered my face. “No. I’m going to be a professional mourner.”

He looked at me blankly. “A what?”

I took a deep breath. “I go to funerals and pretend to mourn the dead.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “That’s not really acting.”

“Whatever.” I waved my hand at him. “It’s a great job. Plus the guy in charge is super nice, kind of cute and thought I’d make a great actress.”

Aaron flinched at the word cute. “It sounds like a scam to me. Why would anyone pay people to do that? Wouldn’t their family or friends just normally show up for free?”

“I sure hope it pays—I wasn’t planning on working for free. I know it sounds unusual, but I saw them in action and it seemed to be for real. Plus you’d be surprised at how many people hire them. Apparently even Linda did,” I told him.

“See that can’t be true. Linda didn’t need fake people at her funeral. She was an awesome lady and she made everyone laugh. I only met her a couple times and I even thought about going,” Aaron said.

“I was as shocked as you are. Her fake sister, who granted looks nothing like her, is one of their mourners. I saw her doing her mourning widow act with another corpse,” I explained.

He shook his head. “How did you even get this job?”

“I ran into the company director at a funeral and he liked me. He said I was a natural and I could start this week if I wanted. I can’t wait. To top it all off, he’s gorgeous and funny, so hopefully I’ll get to work with him sometimes.” I picked up Aaron’s bowl and fished out a noodle from the nearly empty container.

“You mentioned that already.” He stood up, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “So there was no interview? He just hired you out of nowhere? Are you sure this place even exists? Maybe this guy and Linda’s fake sister just go to funerals to pick up chicks.”

“Well he gave me his business card and—”

“I could make my own fake business cards for like twenty bucks,” he interrupted me, standing up from the sofa. “I don’t think you should trust this guy.”

“Calm down. The cards had their website on them. I checked it on my phone and it all seemed fine to me.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Anyone can build a website. He could be a serial killer or a criminal.”

I took his hand. “I’m a big girl. I promise to do my research before I go work there.”

“Fine, I’ll stay out of it. Whose funeral were you at anyway?”

I paused for a moment, slurping the leftover noodles. “Oh, you know that guy my mom knew? She wanted to go, so I went with her.”

“But you hate funerals. You rant about them all the time.”

“Well I changed my mind when someone told me they’d pay me to attend them.” I shrugged, thinking of Derek’s green eyes. “Plus, I’m starting to get used to them now. If I don’t know the dead person, it’s a lot easier.”

“It sounds depressing but it’s a job, so as long as you’re happy. Congratulations, I guess.” He reached down and squeezed my hand. “I think we should go out and celebrate. It’s not everyday one of us gets a new job.”

“Maybe in a few weeks. I haven’t gotten paid yet.”

He waved his other hand at me. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered. It’s on me.”

I bounced in my seat. “Okay, let’s do it then.”

“Do your shoes fit okay?” Aaron asked as he began setting up the scoreboard.

I finished tying my laces and stood up, testing the mismatched shoes for comfort. “Yeah, they seem fine.”

“What do you want to be called?” he asked, typing on the screen.

“I think ‘Winner’ has a nice ring to it.”

“Taken, but you can still be ‘Loser,’” he said, making a set of air quotes.

I glanced up at the scoreboard above our heads to see the word “Winner” scrolling across it. “Fine, if you’re going to be immature just put our names,” I said, sticking out my tongue.

He pouted but retyped the name labels before announcing, “I’m going to go grab a lucky ball.”

“Get me one too.” I took his seat and sang along to the music playing on the overhead screens.

“Oh my God, Madison, what are you doing here?” A voice called from across the room.

I tilted my head and saw Becca waving from a couple lanes down. She rolled her eyes towards the guy she was with and held her lips tightly together before walking over to my lane. The piercing in her septum bounced with each step.

I looked around the room for potential victims before speaking. “Please tell me you’re not working.”

She grabbed my arm, pulling me close. “No, but I kind of wish I was. You have to save me. I’m on the worst blind date ever. The guy I got set up with hasn’t stopped talking about football since we got here. I swear he’s never read a book or been to a museum. He might not even know what a museum is. He’s not in college, won’t shut up about sports and is completely freaked out by my piercings. We have nothing in common.”

I shoved her side. “I suggest you run, quickly. You’ll have to thank whichever friend set you up with that winner.”

She sighed. “My dad did. He’s the son of someone he works with. He thinks if I date normal guys I’ll go back to being his little girl and wear frilly dresses or bows. That’s never going to happen but I humor him, so I’m stuck with that loser until the end of this torture.” She pulled on my arm. “You should come over, keep me company.”

“I can’t, I’m here with someone.” I waved at Aaron to come over.

Aaron returned carrying two bowling balls. He exchanged a polite greeting with Becca, “Hi. Who’s this?”

“This is Becca—from my accountancy course,” I stuttered.

Becca looked sideways at me before tucking a dread behind her ear and offering her hand to Aaron. She gave him a confident smile. “Hey, where has Madison been hiding you?”

I cringed at her pick-up line.

Aaron’s eyes flickered but he shook her hand longer than seemed natural. “I’m Aaron. Cool dreads.”

“Thanks. Madison, you never told me you had such an attractive boyfriend. I didn’t mean to interrupt your date,” Becca said, pointing between us.

“It’s fine.” Aaron glanced at me quickly. “I’m just Madison’s roommate. We’re not together.”

Becca’s eyes lit up under her heavy eyeliner. “Oh, you’re single too? Good to know. Are you at college? I’m studying English lit at State.”

I bit my lip, an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach taking over me. “Which she hates,” I said.

“No, I could never hate it. I find it so challenging.”

“I’m at Central. I’m studying medicine.”

“You’re going to be a doctor? That is so amazing. The guys I normally go out with have no direction.” Becca leaned forwards and touched Aaron’s elbow. “You know, it would be great to catch up. Maybe I could come over for dinner sometime.”

Aaron turned to me. “What do you say, Mads? I can cook and you two could show off your math skills while you do my taxes over a meal.”

Becca interrupted me before I could answer. “You cook too? A homemade meal sounds like such a great idea, but if you’re busy, Madison, I’ll understand.” She turned towards Aaron. “Of course, that wouldn’t stop you from coming over to my place sometime. I’d love to learn more about medical school, maybe consider changing my major.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it to Aaron. “Why don’t you give me your number?”

“Yeah, sure.” He took the phone from her and typed in his number before handing it back.

“Great, I’ll send you a text. It was really fun talking to you both. This has been the most stimulating conversation I’ll probably have all night.” She gave Aaron a half-wave as she returned to her bowling lane.