I

My dad once said: work with the dead, there is an endless supply, and they don’t ever talk back or complain; but even the dead bring their own problems in this age. I once wanted to be a vet and work with animals, I am one of those people who have an affinity with them, and maybe less so with people, but I was not good with facts and remembering and grew up with concentration problems. So the dead it was. I have been working at Park Funeral Homes, situated in a small town in the south of England for ten years now. He was right about one thing though, they don’t talk back, at least not until the other night when one did.  I was working through the night as I often do because of insomnia, and I was preparing Ralph for his wake, doing the usual plugging of holes and opening of eyes, and expression of the lips and brows, when I clearly heard him say, “Don’t make me smile like that, I am not happy, and I never was happy, so don’t force me to smile now.” This obviously came as a shock and freaked me out to the point where I have not been back for several days, retreating to my room here on this brightly lit morning, with the curtains closed, surly going mad.

I have to go back tonight though, the boss is worried, and the dead are still arriving at his door. 

II

Ok ok, maybe it was a one off, lack of sleep, inducing hallucination, just carry on as normal. Normal. Everything is as normal; the front door is still dark green with the sign faded and one of the letterings slightly slanted to the side. This hall way, with its red night light, leading to the back rooms, and the smell of cleaning products, all normal. Put the coffee machine on, put the apron on, check the logs: yes, Gladys tonight. Open the fridge and slide out the body, bring over the table, slide her over, bring the light down and equipment table, open the bag. Needle and thread, begin, pierce the skin around the wound, and again, bring it together. It reminds me of grandmas knitting, her sitting there smoking and watching the snooker.

“Hello dear, oh that is going to leave a big scar, I have never had one like it.” Gladys is speaking too! Ok don’t run, talk back.

“You are dead, why are you speaking to me, it’s scaring me?” I mumbled a bit.

“Oh don’t be scared deary, Ralph told me he thought he scared you; you have been gone for a few days.” Nothing moved, her eyes were still closed and her mouth open like a fish.

“Yes, this is not normal, I think I’m losing it.”

“You are OK deary, we all think you are ok, you have been working with us for so long, making us pretty in our death state, we appreciate you, you know many of us haven’t had such good care and attention as what we get with you. We all think you are the best. Can I give you a kiss, and a hug, I’d like that.” - "Hmmm, ok." I leant over and kissed her cold blue veined cheek and put my hands on her shoulders and squeezed them.

“Ah thank you dear that’s lovely, they say you need at least seven hugs a day.” I noticed my hand white hand prints on the puttied skin. “You know me and a few others would love it if you could help us out?”

“How can I help you?” I liked the feeling of being able to help the dead though.

“Well dear, and this is going to sound like a strange request, but we’d like it, if you would be willing to take a small part of each of us, and take us up to a sacred place up on the moors and reconstruct us there as one so we can move on. You see we are not really meant for the ground, as we understand, but to be burned and in ash return to space. You see this would be preferable.”

“I can’t do that, I mean how?”

“Well you just need to take that saw and that knife and the sewing kit and you know dear, we have faith in you, it’s what we all want you see, don’t we everyone?” A loud cheer came from the other refrigerators.

“Really!”

“Yes. “

“OK, so which part would you like to be Gladys?”

“The head please dear, we took a vote."

Who am I to deny the dead, maybe this is the way it should be.

III

So I began sawing through Gladys neck and spine until it detached; there was not a lot of blood—it's easier when everything has gone turgor. Then pushing the rest of her onto the floor, I took out another body—Peter who had voted to be the legs, as he like to run—again sawing through and pushing the body off the table, no time for talking, just a quick hello. Then Simon, who was the torso, and Jim who was the arms, and so on until it came to some ears and genitals, dick from Dick. Putting all the parts onto the table, beginning to sew them all back together again, until it was a body of them all, and didn’t look too bad, considering. “Done guys, what do you think?” “Yeah, good job! Katie!” Another cheer. The hard part came in maneuvering it into the hearse, but you get used and stronger with how to move dead weight, there are ways. So slipping it into a bag and sliding it down and over the bodies and down the hall and into the hearses boot was actually easier than you would think.

IV

The roads were quiet through the streets of the sleepy town, many of which the people had lived all their lives. Fine rain filled the air and left everything shimmering in the moons light, as the town slowly disappeared, making way to the moors. Winding along and up, past places I remember being with Dad as a child. Parking by the side of the road at the top, and dragging the bag to the peak, which was more difficult. Unzipping and rolling the body out, “Right over here dear, If you can sit us on that bench so we can look out over the hills.” Putting them on to the bench and sitting beside. “Thank you dear, this means so much to us all. We know you have given up so much for us, in the physical world anyway. You know it might be quite difficult to go back know, you can come with us if you like? I think deep down you know this is not the end, that there is no end, just new beginnings.” I smiled and knew deep down that she was right. “It would be a thing to see, what is next, I have never really thought I belonged here, and it was all some long dream.”

I go back to the hearses to collect the petrol can, walk back to the bench and sit down, douching myself and then them, feeling the peace begin to wash over with the fumes. “Hang on tight dear, the ride is about to begin again.” I light the match.