“Then I shall go fetch him for coffee while you two ladies work.”
Marcia and Jennifer settled in a corner of one of the suites and for the next twenty minutes reviewed their notes and strategy for the assembly.
Satisfied that they had covered as many bases as they could, Marcia sat back in her chair. “You do realize that these are kids and kids can throw a few curve balls.”
“Very true. I’m not a parent, but I do believe in being honest with them, at any age.”
“Me too. I just hope some of the parents don’t complain.”
“They will. You and I both know parents want to protect their kids, some a little too much. Ready?”
“Let’s go.” As they approached the top of the stairs to the lounge they could hear Brent and Officer Stuart laughing together.
“You know, hiring Brent was a smart move Jen. It’s good to have a male presence. Have you looked at hiring a second director?”
“No, I have to get on it. I was thinking about applying to bring in an apprentice for next June. ‘Course, that would be up to Brent. I don’t mind working both funeral homes at all, it’s just that I keep getting sidetracked with business matters.”
“We might manage until then. I don’t mind the back and forth either.”
Both men looked up as they came down the stairs.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning Brent, call sooner if you need me for a coroner’s call,” said Marcia.
“Jeff can help me. Good luck with the assembly.” Jennifer was pleasantly surprised that Brent had stepped so smoothly into his role as manager. Marcia needed the night off.
Marcia took her car to the school; this time Jennifer rode in the front seat with Officer Stuart. The three of them entered the building together.
“I have butterflies,” Marcia whispered to Jennifer.
“Me too,” she responded.
“So do I,” said a voice behind them. They both turned to Officer Stuart. He shrugged. “Hey, it’s the principal’s office.” Marcia and Jennifer smiled at him, his humour lifting some of their unease.
As they signed in at the desk, the principal came out of his office to meet them. Jennifer and Marcia introduced themselves and Jennifer introduced the police officer by his first name. “Stuart will be observing,” she said.
“Thank you for coming. The students know that Emily died, and that her funeral is tomorrow. Some of the parents did not approve of the assembly so a teacher will be staying in a classroom with them until dismissal. How would you like to be introduced?”
“First names preferably,” Jennifer said. “If they were teens I’d suggest using our last names but at this age we want them to feel safe with us.”
“Good call.” The principal moved over the to PA system and announced the assembly. Jennifer and Marcia heard a discord of noise in the hallway as the children filed along.
The principal led the way into the noisy gym. The kids sat on the floor. The teachers and some of the students started “Shhh” and the gym quickly settled into a quiet sea of little faces.
“This is a very special assembly today,” the principal said. “I’d like you to meet Marcia and Jennifer. They are funeral directors. Can we welcome them?” The students applauded as they continued to look up at Marcia and Jennifer expectantly.
“Thank you,” Marcia said, turning the principal and smiling, then looking down at the children. “Jennifer and I are happy to be here. Does anyone know what a funeral director does?”
A few hands went up. Jennifer pointed to a little boy in the middle of the group.
“You help dead people.”
Jennifer didn’t miss a beat, “Good answer, that is some of what we do.” The little boy wiggled with satisfaction at the praise.
“How many of you have been to a funeral?” asked Marcia. Only two hands went up. “Let me ask you first,” Marica pointed to a little girl. “Do you remember anything about it?”
“It was my grandma,” she said importantly. “She had makeup on and was lying in bed. Well, it wasn’t a bed s’actly, it was more like a bed with a lid.”
Jennifer bit her lip to keep from smiling.
“And you?” Marcia asked the little boy.
He sat up straight. “I am not afraid of dead people,” he announced. “I sat in the hearse and went to the graveyard. I saw someone dressed like you put dirt on the casket before you put it down in the hole.”
His classmates looked at him in admiration.
Jennifer took over, giving a three-minute talk on what happened when someone died and how a funeral director helped.
Marcia took a couple of minutes to talk about remembering Emily.
They asked the kids if they had any questions. Hands shot up and one by one queries were answered, Jennifer and Marcia alternating.
One little girl asked if Emily was in heaven. Jennifer paused briefly before answering. It wasn’t her job to negate any person’s faith. “Do you think she’s in heaven?”
“Yes,” the little girl said.
“I think so too,” Jennifer supported.
“But she is happy,” added the little girl. “My cat Susie is in heaven. Emily can play with her.”
All too soon the principal stepped in. “Thank you students for being so well-behaved for our guests. And a thank you Jennifer and Marcia. We have enjoyed learning what funeral directors do and why.” The students applauded as the bell rang. They scrambled to get to their classrooms to collect their things for home.
The principal walked the women to the door and thanked them warmly for coming. “It’s important work you do. You did a great job presenting to Emily’s classmates. Thank you.”
“I like your confidence,” Marcia said as they exited the school.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for example, when the principal asked you how we should be introduced, you didn’t hesitate. You told him what you wanted and why. I was so unnerved at being in the principal’s office I would have had trouble answering.”
Jennifer laughed. “Truthfully, I was as unnerved as you were. I had to keep telling myself on the way over that I was the expert. I didn’t feel like one, but I had to believe I was or I wouldn’t have been able to walk into that gym.”
“I’ll have to remember that. It’s a good technique and it worked. The kids responded well, didn’t they?”
“They did,” said Stuart from behind them. Marcia and Jennifer turned and looked at Officer Stuart. “I was quite impressed by the two of you. I had no idea funeral directors were so diverse.”
“About ninety percent of our time is spent with the living,” said Marcia. “Although I don’t mind the ten percent of time spent with the dead either. Dead people do teach us things about life as well as death.”
“I’m heading to the condo to see how things are going,” Marcia said as they parted. “The movers called at noon to tell me everything has been settled. I can’t wait to spend my first night there. Ryan’s making dinner.”
“Congrats. I’d go with you and bring a bottle of wine, help you settle in. It would be so much fun.”
“But you need to sleep. We’ll try for this weekend. Phil might be coming down.” She hugged Jennifer tightly. “Thanks,” she whispered.
Officer Stuart opened the passenger door for Jennifer. “You look done in. Let’s get you home.”
14
Jennifer had barely entered the garage when the phone rang. She walked toward the front office and answered, willing herself to concentrate. It was Evelyn.
“Hi Evelyn.”
“Greg is gone. He just slipped away, it was so peaceful.”
“How is Linda?”
“She says that Greg let her know he was warm and safe. It was odd, it was like he lingered for a while.”
Jennifer had experienced that herself and many of her families had told her the same thing. It had nothing to do with specific religion or belief system, sometimes it just seemed to be part of what happened when a pers
on died.
“I’m glad you and Linda had the experience of knowing Greg is safe and well. How are his parents?”
“They walked out without a word the second the nurse told them he was gone. We haven’t seen them since. The staff let us sit here until we felt Greg leave. One of the nurses said the same thing you did. I have never experienced it before, it was beautiful. Anyway, Linda and I were wondering if we could have the service the day after tomorrow.”
“Certainly. Morning or afternoon?”
“Early afternoon, around one?”
“I’ll put the notice in the paper for tomorrow and will be in touch once I have finalized the details with the celebrant and the custodian. In the meantime, you and Linda call me if you need anything.”
“We will, thank you Jennifer.”
Jennifer hung up and closed her eyes. Exhaustion pulled at every muscle as if compelling her to go lie down.
But she went to her office instead, put the notice in the paper, and called the custodian and celebrant. Standing up nearly fifteen minutes later, she felt light headed and woozy. She’d passed the limited of her endurance.
Jennifer sought out Officer Stuart to let him know she’d be upstairs.
“I’ll be off-duty shortly. Warren is replacing me.”
“OK. Thanks.”
The stairs were wavy and blurry as she climbed them, using the rail for balance. Her feet throbbed. She took her suit jacket off and lay down on the couch. She didn’t hear a thing until five hours later when Gwen texted to tell her she was on her way.
Jennifer stumbled to her feet and went to the bathroom. Her face was puffy, hair disheveled. She felt like she was detached from her body. She looked down at her feet, one shoe had fallen off while she slept, her sock bloody. She picked up her brush, it felt heavy, and pulling it through her hair was an effort. She went to her bedroom to look for slippers. It was comforting to put them on. She took off her crumpled blouse and skirt, letting them fall to the floor, and wrapped herself in her housecoat.
As she walked down the stairs to open the garage door when she remembered she had to tell the officer what she was doing. She couldn’t remember his name. He heard her coming and met her at the bottom of the stairs, one eyebrow raised.
“I’m sorry, I forgot your name,” Jennifer said dully.
“Warren. What can I do for you?”
“My friend Gwen will be at the back door in a few minutes.”
“Then back up you go. I ‘ll make sure she finds you.” He looked down at her feet and scowled.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Yeah. Have to change the dressings.” Her tongue felt thick and her words slurred.
Warren climbed the few steps to her. “There,” he said as he helped her to her apartment door. “Has Grimsby been fed today?”
“Not yet. I need to clean his litter.”
“Go sit down. With your permission, I will take care of Grimsby for you.”
Jennifer looked at him. His voice seemed far away. She blinked. “OK.”
Gwen came in a few minutes later, dropped the lattes on the table and came over to her.
“Are you OK? The officer is concerned about you.” Gwen put her hand on Jennifer’s forehead. “You’re burning up. I’ll be right back.”
“No. I’m fine. Just tired. I have to feed Grimsby.”
Gwen disappeared. Jennifer lay back down on the couch. She barely noticed the paramedics. She didn’t feel the IV or notice the ride to the hospital. She was just too tired.
She woke up in the emergency room, feeling much better. A man sat in a chair next to the stretcher. He looked up as she stirred.
“Officer Warren, right?”
He smiled. “Nope, I’m Jim. You pulled a sleeping beauty and slept for almost 16 hours. ‘Course, the sedation didn’t hurt. Stuart will be taking the next shift.”
A nurse heard them talking and poked her head around the corner of the curtain.
“Hello Jennifer, feeling better?”
“Much better, thank you.”
“Then let’s see if we can get you out of here. The doctor will be here shortly to discharge you.” She came back a few minutes later. “Let me check your dressings,” she said as she lifted the sheet. “All clean and dry. You should try to stay off your feet as much as possible for a few days.” She left the cubicle.
Jennifer lay back and shut her eyes, fully awake but wanting to be in her own head space. She heard the swish of the curtain and opened her eyes.
“Hello Ms. Spencer, I’m Dr. Joseph. We are sending you home. You have a bit of infection starting on your left foot and we found a tick bite with the tick still in. As a precaution we will be treating you for Lyme disease. I understand from your, um, the officer, that you were in the bush up north recently. It’s too early to tell if you have a bull-eye rash and too early for symptoms, but it’s looking suspicious. I think you collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration. You did have a fever, but it’s gone now. I can’t find anything else. Your blood work is normal.” He turned to leave. “Your prescription will be at the nursing station. Take the antibiotics for three weeks. Finish them. Follow up with your regular doctor if there’s any change.” He disappeared. She watched the curtain floated shut behind him.
“Here are your clothes,” the nurse said, entering as Dr. Joseph left—he seemed to be in a hurry to get her out of there. The nurse pulled the IV and bandaged Jennifer’s hand. She closed the curtain and she left. Jennifer could see Officer Jim’s feet in stance just on the other side of the curtain.
She rolled her eyes, more disgusted with herself than she’d been in a while. She’d been too busy to pay attention to herself. How arrogant of me to assume I am invincible, she thought. She slid off the stretcher and quietly got dressed. Jennifer found her housecoat and slippers at the bottom of the bag. Gwen must have got her clothes ready. She’d only been in her house coat when Gwen arrived.
Jen looked around to see if she’d missed anything, then picked up the prescription at the desk and left the emergency department with Officer Jim. She let him lead the way out; she had no idea which way to go. He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk.
“You probably shouldn’t walk to the car. You could wait with the security guard while I go get it.”
Jennifer shot him a look and raised her eyebrows. She was having no part of his plan. “Let’s go,” she said and charged on ahead. Jim took a couple of large quick steps to catch up.
“Alrighty then,” he said pleasantly. “Sue warned us it would be like this.” His laugh was a deep happy sound that burst Jennifer’s self-important little bubble.
“Which way?” Officer Jim asked.
Jennifer stopped in her tracks, feeling very foolish. “I have no idea,” she said sheepishly. Officer Jim took her arm and steered her to the car. They laughed and talked all the way back to the funeral home.
Officer Stuart was waiting when they pulled up. He let them in and the two men chatted in the garage. Heading upstairs, she saw that Grimsby’s dishes were full and his litter clean. As she sat on the couch, Grimsby jumped up beside her to be petted. She readily complied.
Hungry, Jennifer checked the fridge. The groceries from a few days ago were on the shelves. Her throat constricted as she thought of Sue. She pulled out a couple of eggs, poached them in the microwave, then mashed them up and made herself an egg sandwich. She decided to go downstairs for tea, not wanting to be alone.
She found Officer Stuart in the lounge. He stood up as she entered.
“I’m sorry. I just came down for tea.” She looked around the room, then back at the officer. “I don’t want to be alone. I’m scared.”
To her embarrassment she started to cry.
“Jim will be here in a few minutes with your prescription,” said Stuart gently. “Sit down. I’ll make your tea and you can keep us company.”
Stuart handed her tea to her just as Officer Jim arrived. The tea was perfect.
“How did you know how
I take my tea?”
“Sue made sure we knew,” said Stuart.
Officer Jim sat down beside her, studying her red eyes and tear-stained face. “The pharmacist told me you are to take your first pill right away. Having a rough time of it?” he asked gently as he opened the bottle and tipped the pill into her hand.
Jennifer nodded. “I’m so sorry, I don’t usually break down this much. It hit me so fast.” He watched as she swallowed the pill.
“Let me tell you a story,” he said, capping the bottle and sitting back in the chair. “It goes back to when I was a patrol officer. One night on duty I heard shouting and screaming and I went to investigate. I saw a little boy being threatened by a man. He had a knife to the child’s throat. I was terrified. I radioed for backup, but I knew I had to intervene—it was the look in the guy’s eyes. He was insane.
“I tried reasoning with him, he wasn’t listening. I walked closer, hoping to get him to understand and to free the little boy. The man let go of the child and we got into a violent fight. The boy ran away, but the man’s rage made him stronger than me and he stabbed me several times. I couldn’t get up. I saw the man raise the knife again and a split second later a shot from one of my colleague’s guns took the man down. I was in hospital for quite a while and off-duty for months.”
“I would cry at the drop of a hat. I would get really angry over little things,” Jim explained. “I still have flashbacks.” He paused. Jennifer was listening intently, studying his face. “It’ll take time to recover from the kidnapping and the trauma. There is no agenda, there is no right or wrong. You may cry, withdraw, get angry, you may not. It is what it is.” He grinned. “Besides, it gets lonely sitting in this lounge. I’m sure Stuart appreciates your company.”
“I do,” said Stuart. “Don’t hesitate to come to any of us. I heard from Sue that you proactively debrief your staff. Police and fire have been slow to accept the need for peer support. It’s now part of our training and I for one am in full support of honest and open feelings.”
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