Note: A fellow Open Salon writer, Dom Macco, came up with an idea awhile back about a fictional character named “Carl” who has recently died. In the story, other fictional characters have been asked to prepare eulogies for Carl’s funeral, but each has little or no actual knowledge of who Carl was. The only thing anyone does know about him is that he was a good man.
Dom and Alysa Salzberg selected other Open Salon writers who have kindly gotten together and written pieces in an effort to help put Carl together as a person. The following piece is a contribution to that larger work.
When Carl was found dead on the corner bus stop bench, he was wearing a men's 3-piece suit, women's underwear and opaque pantyhose. "Carl" was embroidered on the silky panties he wore under the lace-topped black tights. He had no wallet, no identification and five brand new $100 bills in his breast pocket.
Daphne received the call from her friend Luther, who ran the Hildebrand Funeral Home in her hometown.
"Hey, Daffy. I've got another one for you. Male. John Doe. We think his name was Carl, but that's really all we know. The Coroner asked me to handle the body; my turn in the pauper rotation."
"So you want me to get him ready for the viewing." she said rather flatly, knowing that if Luther wasn't getting paid, neither was she. "Wouldn't it be better for all involved to just send the body to a crematorium?"
"Yeah, it sure would. Thing is, we found a rosary in his pocket, so the guy must have been Catholic. A very unusual Catholic, to be sure, but he probably wouldn't approve of being cremated. I don't want to take any chances with the guy's soul, although..."
"Luther, you know I'll do it, damn it. Don't even try it. His soul, my ass."
Luther laughed. "Thanks, boo. You know I love you, you Creole wannabe. Everything's ready for you, whenever you are."
Daphne sighed and put her Blackberry back in its holster. Luther's timing couldn't have been worse. Her reputation as the best hair, makeup and wardrobe artist in the undertaking business had her dance card full constantly. But she never could say no to Luther.
Daphne pulled the white sheet away from the newly embalmed body. She would learn a lot about the man he used to be by examining his corpse.
Both ears were pierced, but there were no teeny tiny diamond studs in either lobe.
" Hmmmm. What were you up to, Sweetie?" Daphne whispered toward the head. "
She gently picked up the left hand. The ring finger bore no ring, but it did sport a tan line where a band had once been.
"Were you just divorced? Where is she, honey? Or did someone find you on that bench before the one who called the coroner and steal your wedding band?"
Her eyes traveled up to the expertly cut head of brown wavy hair. It was neither long nor short, as men's haircuts go. Just right.
"You look pretty straight to me, darlin', in spite of your undies. Were you just a little freaky, is that it?
Carl's answer became visible as soon as Daphne rolled the body toward the wall.
Daphne had been dressing bodies for 15 years. She had seen it all. This, however, sent her jaw agape.
He had a tramp stamp! Positioned strategically around his butt cleavage was a tattoo in the unmistakable shape of one of those machinces taxi drivers use to swipe your credit card.
"What the hell, Carl? You were a naughty one, weren't you, baby?" Daphne squealed with laughter.
Luther entered the chapel where Daphne had just put the finishing touches on their John Doe.
Something about this case had really grabbed Daphne's little-known sentimental side. She told the staff she had planned a small service -- just a few guests she had invited who she thought could help give Carl a proper sendoff. She was off to pick them up with one of the funeral home's stretch limos.
The lid on the plain wooden casket was closed, which was unusual. Luther wondered if maybe Daphne still had some last-minute touchups to do before the service. He walked over and lifted the top-half to take a peek.
"Holy shit, Daffy! he murmured.
Luther waited in his office until he heard the stretch drive up in the circular drive in front of his elegant building. When he heard Daphne enter the employee's back door, he called out to her and she stopped in his doorway.
"I don't know how to tell you this, Daffy, but somehow the wrong body has been put into the chapel. I looked in every prep room and every other casket in the place. Our John Doe is not here!"
Daphne grabbed Luther by his hand and pretended to pull him out of his leather desk chair. Confused, he followed docilely.
As they approached the chapel, Luther could hear a rather loud crowd laughing and talking as they entered from the front parlor. Daphne led him directly to the bier, where Carl's casket was perched. She lifted the lid.
"See? I have no idea who that woman is...," Luther started. Just then, an extremely tall redhead wearing a boa called out to Daphne.
"Where should we sit, Doll?"
Luther's expression transformed in stages from confused, to shocked, to bemused. About a dozen "women"
were filing into the chapel chairs. The redhead's royal purple boa was trailing behind her, sometimes snagging in one of the red sequins that covered the dress that hit at mid-thigh on the bottom and around mid-navel on the top.
There was another wearing acrylic stilettos with platforms that appeared to contain goldfish swimming inside. Shifting his gaze, Luther did a double take when he spotted "Cher" tossing her black mane as she slithered into an aisle seat.
Daphne smiled up at Luther and walked to the microphone standing beside the casket. Luther looked back into the pink satin-lined box and extended a hand to straighten one of "Carla's" platinum blonde ringlets around her gorgeously painted face.
"Dearly beloved...."
Dom and Alysa Salzberg selected other Open Salon writers who have kindly gotten together and written pieces in an effort to help put Carl together as a person. The following piece is a contribution to that larger work.
Daphne received the call from her friend Luther, who ran the Hildebrand Funeral Home in her hometown.
"Hey, Daffy. I've got another one for you. Male. John Doe. We think his name was Carl, but that's really all we know. The Coroner asked me to handle the body; my turn in the pauper rotation."
"So you want me to get him ready for the viewing." she said rather flatly, knowing that if Luther wasn't getting paid, neither was she. "Wouldn't it be better for all involved to just send the body to a crematorium?"
"Yeah, it sure would. Thing is, we found a rosary in his pocket, so the guy must have been Catholic. A very unusual Catholic, to be sure, but he probably wouldn't approve of being cremated. I don't want to take any chances with the guy's soul, although..."
"Luther, you know I'll do it, damn it. Don't even try it. His soul, my ass."
Luther laughed. "Thanks, boo. You know I love you, you Creole wannabe. Everything's ready for you, whenever you are."
Daphne sighed and put her Blackberry back in its holster. Luther's timing couldn't have been worse. Her reputation as the best hair, makeup and wardrobe artist in the undertaking business had her dance card full constantly. But she never could say no to Luther.
Daphne pulled the white sheet away from the newly embalmed body. She would learn a lot about the man he used to be by examining his corpse.
Both ears were pierced, but there were no teeny tiny diamond studs in either lobe.
" Hmmmm. What were you up to, Sweetie?" Daphne whispered toward the head. "
She gently picked up the left hand. The ring finger bore no ring, but it did sport a tan line where a band had once been.
"Were you just divorced? Where is she, honey? Or did someone find you on that bench before the one who called the coroner and steal your wedding band?"
Her eyes traveled up to the expertly cut head of brown wavy hair. It was neither long nor short, as men's haircuts go. Just right.
"You look pretty straight to me, darlin', in spite of your undies. Were you just a little freaky, is that it?
Carl's answer became visible as soon as Daphne rolled the body toward the wall.
Daphne had been dressing bodies for 15 years. She had seen it all. This, however, sent her jaw agape.
He had a tramp stamp! Positioned strategically around his butt cleavage was a tattoo in the unmistakable shape of one of those machinces taxi drivers use to swipe your credit card.
"What the hell, Carl? You were a naughty one, weren't you, baby?" Daphne squealed with laughter.
Luther entered the chapel where Daphne had just put the finishing touches on their John Doe.
Something about this case had really grabbed Daphne's little-known sentimental side. She told the staff she had planned a small service -- just a few guests she had invited who she thought could help give Carl a proper sendoff. She was off to pick them up with one of the funeral home's stretch limos.
The lid on the plain wooden casket was closed, which was unusual. Luther wondered if maybe Daphne still had some last-minute touchups to do before the service. He walked over and lifted the top-half to take a peek.
"Holy shit, Daffy! he murmured.
Luther waited in his office until he heard the stretch drive up in the circular drive in front of his elegant building. When he heard Daphne enter the employee's back door, he called out to her and she stopped in his doorway.
"I don't know how to tell you this, Daffy, but somehow the wrong body has been put into the chapel. I looked in every prep room and every other casket in the place. Our John Doe is not here!"
Daphne grabbed Luther by his hand and pretended to pull him out of his leather desk chair. Confused, he followed docilely.
As they approached the chapel, Luther could hear a rather loud crowd laughing and talking as they entered from the front parlor. Daphne led him directly to the bier, where Carl's casket was perched. She lifted the lid.
"See? I have no idea who that woman is...," Luther started. Just then, an extremely tall redhead wearing a boa called out to Daphne.
"Where should we sit, Doll?"
Luther's expression transformed in stages from confused, to shocked, to bemused. About a dozen "women"
were filing into the chapel chairs. The redhead's royal purple boa was trailing behind her, sometimes snagging in one of the red sequins that covered the dress that hit at mid-thigh on the bottom and around mid-navel on the top.
There was another wearing acrylic stilettos with platforms that appeared to contain goldfish swimming inside. Shifting his gaze, Luther did a double take when he spotted "Cher" tossing her black mane as she slithered into an aisle seat.
Daphne smiled up at Luther and walked to the microphone standing beside the casket. Luther looked back into the pink satin-lined box and extended a hand to straighten one of "Carla's" platinum blonde ringlets around her gorgeously painted face.
"Dearly beloved...."
THE END
Other Project Participants: The following OSers have also written pieces for this project. While all are to post on March 15, 2011, some may not yet be posted. If not, please check back a little later today.
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