Chapter seven

Day one. Dressed in his best suit, he is dropped at the funeral home. Unprepared but knowing that his father will expect the best from him. He straightens his spine and walks in the front door. The smell. Its like cleaning solutions mixed with cheap air freshener. And there also seems to be a undertone of new wood. This all is like a layer of scent designed to mask another unfamiliar chemical smell. This smell feels like its coming from under his feet.

The reception area has basic matte carpeting and clean white walls. Tasteful paintings and prints hang on the walls all along a wide corridor with multiple wood doors in it. The main area has a leather sofa on the right wall with 2 armchairs across from it. Between the chairs is a graceful bureau. Along the wall to the right at the back of the room, is a large grandfather clock and to the left, slightly on angle is a dark wooden desk. Table lamps light the room with the assistance of a large, graceful crystal chandelier that hangs from the middle of the room. All of this lighting is set low to create a comfortable light.

The double doors to both the left and the right lead to large viewing rooms, know as parlor rooms. Currently they have sets of chairs and a podium at each end. Each room including the reception area have beautiful vases of flowers spread throughout them. Even further to the ends of each parlor room are smaller rooms connected by doors. These are known as the family rooms. A place for grieving families to respite while the parlors fill up with funeral visitors. At the end of the reception area behind another set of double doors, these ones white, is another hallway leading to the business end of the building. Here are office doors and one room set aside with empty caskets for people to make their end-of-life choices with. On almost every surface is a small box of tissue, at the ready for anyone who may need them.

He looks about, exploring all the rooms. Taking note of where everything is. He has been here a while and no one has come seeking him out. Mind you, he hasn't called out either. When he reaches the 2 double wide white doors they open suddenly with a whoosh. Standing inside the doorway is a young woman. She doesn't look like she belongs here. She has short cropped black hair with large round brown eyes. She is wearing too much eyeliner and heavy dark shadow. In her ears are large yellow flower earrings and, on her lips, dark burgundy lip stick. She wears jeans covered in patches and flowers. Every one of her fingers bears a large gaudy ring. CC was a bit of an odd character; she would lose track of a subject and make sudden changes mid-sentence and occasionally come up with odd factoids at unusual times.

She is chewing gum. She looks at him and says, "Hey I'm CC, you the kid I'm supposed to train?"
"Uhm Yes ma'am I believe so" He looks up at her. He thinks she is beautiful.

"K, you gotta follow me, man" She whips around and leads him into the business end of the building. "What are you doing in a suit? That's kinda weird for housekeeping. We got spare clothes here. Let's get you into a shirt and pants for clean up."

After changing they spent the day going over his duties. These included cleaning up, sweeping, vacuuming, garbage. Making sure all the tissue boxes were full or a replacement is nearby. All fliers, and informational packaging is tidy and available for all visitors. Straightening chairs, checking flowers to make sure they will remain fresh, filling water where needed. Cleaning the bathrooms properly and making sure all the supplies are full. Any loose paperwork or notes are to be placed on the desk in the reception area. All the time that he was being shown his duties, he kept quiet. When they walked into one of the parlors the begin to straighten the chairs into neat rows. It was then he noticed neither parlor had any caskets in them.

"CC?" he inquired.

"What's up?" she replied. She would walk between the chairs and occasionally would twirl like a dancer for no apparent reason.

"Uhm, where do they keep the bodies? I don't see any here." He was nervous to get the answer but also intensely curious.

"Well, there aren't any funerals until tomorrow, so the keep them downstairs until they need to put them into the viewing caskets." She replied matter of factly. She didn't think he was ready to see one yet, but she loved to push boundaries. "Wanna see one?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "If we are done, can I go home now?"

"You're not scared, are you? They can't do anything but just lay there. Let's go downstairs and I'll show you where they do all the stuff."

She grabs his little hand and starts to drag him towards the back stairs. He digs in his heels and pulls his hand out of hers.

"I'm sorry little man. I didn't mean anything by it. We can save that for another day." Said CC. She clicks her tongue and points at him mimicking a gun trigger.

"CC. How come you work here? And what do you do?" he inquired.

"It's the family business and my mom is one of the funeral directors. But it's my uncle's funeral home. He owns a bunch of them. I drive the van and pick up the bodies and put them downstairs. Then my cousin takes over and gets them ready for the funeral. It was creepy at first, but I'm used to it now and it doesn't bother me."

He wasn't sure how to answer that, so you just said, "wow cool."

"How come you got stuck here?" CC asked. "You should be hanging out with your friends or something and not working here. Aren't you a little young for all of this?"

"Your uncle and my dad are friends. My dad said I have to work here. He said it would build character or something like that. He said its 'cause he got his first job working with his dad at 9."

"Sometimes the bodies burp or shit themselves, that took getting used to." CC added.
He looks up at her, face ashen, shocked. What can you say to that? She was so different to anyone he had ever met in his life. She was free and could speak her mind in every and any way. He loved this about her. He even loved her quirky behaviours. Twirling around the rooms, never ending energy and sudden bursts of odd comments and irregular times. This was a freedom he could never express himself. He admired it.

"So, little man â?" get yourself back into your suit and I'll take the van and drive you home. You can even ride on a gurney if you want to. But I promise not to shove you into a body bag!" to this she snickered out loud at his shocked face. She winked and did her click, finger gun point to him again, smiling.