Naked as the day he came into the world hundreds of years ago, Archie Greenway lay stretched out on a cold stainless steel table. In just a few minutes, Fredrik Husby, proprietor of the finest funeral home in Arbor Woods, was going to remove whatever vital fluids remained in the old boy, and replace them with fluids of the embalming kind. For the moment however, Husby was placing Archie’s clothes into a tote bag with the Husby Funeral Home logo on it, making note of each item on an embalming report. That finished, he would place Archie’s body in it’s final, everlasting pose.
Husby looked the body over for any bruises, catheters, or IVs. He found none. He studied Archie’s face and noticed that it had a slight grin. Anything approaching a smile on a dead body displayed at a wake would be morbid, Husby thought, as he reached over to smooth the lips down into neutral position.
Archie opened his eyes and said, “Hi!”
The funeral director leaped backwards, tripped over his own feet and nearly fell. “Holy Jesus! You’re alive!”
“Holy Jesus is right. Do you know how cold this table is? This is no way to treat the dead. Don’t you think the dead have feelings?” Archie pondered this for a moment. “No, I guess they don’t. Anyway, the thing of it is, apparently, I am not quite as dead as everybody thought I was. I felt dead for a while there, but I’m much better now, thank you.”
Husby stood still and silent, simply staring at Archie. In his thirty years in the funeral business, he had never had a dead person say hello to him.
“Do you think you could help me sit up?”
Fred couldn’t move, but found the courage to speak. “I’m so sorry. This has never happened before. Everyone - we all thought - well, there was a concensus of opinion - that, you know, that you were deceased. I really hope that this doesn’t sour your feelings toward the Husby Funeral Home.”
“I don’t have any feelings about your funeral home,” Archie said as he struggled to sit up. “I don’t really have any feelings at all right now. I’m numb from laying on this cold metal. I’ll tell you what, my butt is really sore.” His feet dangled over the edge of the table, and he swung his legs like a small child.
Spying the tote bag on the floor, he asked, “Are those my clothes in there? I’d really like to get dressed and get out of here.” Then he saw his suit hanging on a rack. A look of distaste crossed his face. “My brown suit? Augusta was going to let me be buried in brown? I always told her, my favorite suit was the dark blue one, with the pale blue pinstripes. She never listened. Wait until I get ahold of her. Good thing she’s stacked, if you know what I mean.” Archie winked at the bewildered mortician.
“Sir, Mr. Greenway, maybe you could just wait here while I contact someone.” He had no idea who to call.
“Yes, yes, there will be time for all that later. Let me ask you, are you Italian?”
“No, no I’m not. Swedish.” Husby was even more confused now. “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, sir.”
“I smell garlic. Garlic gives me heartburn. Used to be able to eat anything I wanted without a problem, but now,” Archie shrugged, “not so much. I have to be more careful, watch what I eat.”
“I did have Italian for dinner last night. Is there something I can get you? Can I get you a glass of water?”
Archie smiled. “Water? No, no water. I’m hungry. I need to eat if I want to keep on living.”
“Well, I, uh...”
“Come a little closer. What’s your name again? Husbandry?”
“No, it’s Husby. It’s, uhm, ah, Fredrik Husby.”
“Can I call you Fred?”
“Well, I normally go by Fredrik.” Husby stepped slowly toward Archie.
“Fred, I’m going to need an antacid later. Do you have any antacids?”
“Yes, I have some in my office.” Husby suddenly felt very weary, unable to think as clearly as he had just a few minutes ago.
“Good, I’m really glad to hear that. Listen, come a little closer, I’m an old man and I want to talk to you.” Husby did as he was told. Archie put his hands on the other fellow’s shoulders. “Listen, I think you’re a good guy. I hope some day you can find it in your heart to forgive me, and maybe we can be friends, spend time together, play a little cribbage, maybe get a bite to eat, just not Italian. Like I said, it gives me heartburn. Anyway, I’m really sorry about this, but I am famished and I don’t think I can make it out of this building without your help.”
Fredrik Husby’s mind clouded over completely just as Archie bared his fangs.
Husby looked the body over for any bruises, catheters, or IVs. He found none. He studied Archie’s face and noticed that it had a slight grin. Anything approaching a smile on a dead body displayed at a wake would be morbid, Husby thought, as he reached over to smooth the lips down into neutral position.
Archie opened his eyes and said, “Hi!”
The funeral director leaped backwards, tripped over his own feet and nearly fell. “Holy Jesus! You’re alive!”
“Holy Jesus is right. Do you know how cold this table is? This is no way to treat the dead. Don’t you think the dead have feelings?” Archie pondered this for a moment. “No, I guess they don’t. Anyway, the thing of it is, apparently, I am not quite as dead as everybody thought I was. I felt dead for a while there, but I’m much better now, thank you.”
Husby stood still and silent, simply staring at Archie. In his thirty years in the funeral business, he had never had a dead person say hello to him.
“Do you think you could help me sit up?”
Fred couldn’t move, but found the courage to speak. “I’m so sorry. This has never happened before. Everyone - we all thought - well, there was a concensus of opinion - that, you know, that you were deceased. I really hope that this doesn’t sour your feelings toward the Husby Funeral Home.”
“I don’t have any feelings about your funeral home,” Archie said as he struggled to sit up. “I don’t really have any feelings at all right now. I’m numb from laying on this cold metal. I’ll tell you what, my butt is really sore.” His feet dangled over the edge of the table, and he swung his legs like a small child.
Spying the tote bag on the floor, he asked, “Are those my clothes in there? I’d really like to get dressed and get out of here.” Then he saw his suit hanging on a rack. A look of distaste crossed his face. “My brown suit? Augusta was going to let me be buried in brown? I always told her, my favorite suit was the dark blue one, with the pale blue pinstripes. She never listened. Wait until I get ahold of her. Good thing she’s stacked, if you know what I mean.” Archie winked at the bewildered mortician.
“Sir, Mr. Greenway, maybe you could just wait here while I contact someone.” He had no idea who to call.
“Yes, yes, there will be time for all that later. Let me ask you, are you Italian?”
“No, no I’m not. Swedish.” Husby was even more confused now. “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, sir.”
“I smell garlic. Garlic gives me heartburn. Used to be able to eat anything I wanted without a problem, but now,” Archie shrugged, “not so much. I have to be more careful, watch what I eat.”
“I did have Italian for dinner last night. Is there something I can get you? Can I get you a glass of water?”
Archie smiled. “Water? No, no water. I’m hungry. I need to eat if I want to keep on living.”
“Well, I, uh...”
“Come a little closer. What’s your name again? Husbandry?”
“No, it’s Husby. It’s, uhm, ah, Fredrik Husby.”
“Can I call you Fred?”
“Well, I normally go by Fredrik.” Husby stepped slowly toward Archie.
“Fred, I’m going to need an antacid later. Do you have any antacids?”
“Yes, I have some in my office.” Husby suddenly felt very weary, unable to think as clearly as he had just a few minutes ago.
“Good, I’m really glad to hear that. Listen, come a little closer, I’m an old man and I want to talk to you.” Husby did as he was told. Archie put his hands on the other fellow’s shoulders. “Listen, I think you’re a good guy. I hope some day you can find it in your heart to forgive me, and maybe we can be friends, spend time together, play a little cribbage, maybe get a bite to eat, just not Italian. Like I said, it gives me heartburn. Anyway, I’m really sorry about this, but I am famished and I don’t think I can make it out of this building without your help.”
Fredrik Husby’s mind clouded over completely just as Archie bared his fangs.
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