Run Junior over with his car? No, that was insane, although it would be immensely satisfying.
Leave the country? Not very practical, expensive, and he didn’t want to lose his job here at the funeral home.
New identity? Would save on moving expenses, but he would still have to leave Crosby-Ayers. Plus, he was a terrible liar.
He was so lost in his plotting that he didn’t notice Aaron was off the phone until he spoke up.
“Hey, Tom?”
“Huh?” Tom jerked his gaze over with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was sort of zoning out.”
“It’s okay. I went ahead and got embalming permission for Mr. Brady Dresser,” Aaron said. “I’ll write it up right now and bring it back to you if you wanna go ahead and get started.”
“Oh, sure.” Tom got up and headed to the back. He was grateful for something to distract him. He found Brady still resting on the stretcher next to the cooler and rolled him into the prep room to get going.
Their prep room was old, small but clean with wooden cabinets and a faded tile floor. There were two embalming tables, an antique porcelain monster and a newer stainless-steel model. A long stretch of counter ran along the wall at the feet of the tables to hold the embalming machines. They were both modern devices with tanks capable of holding up to three gallons of fluid.
Next to each embalming machine was a specialized faucet system with three handles; one adjusted the flow of water to a long neck faucet that could be positioned over the embalming machine to fill it as needed, a second one controlled a fixture that fed a long water hose for the embalming table to facilitate bathing and rinsing, and the last powered the hydro aspirator.
The hydro aspirator was a unique apparatus, shaped like a tall faucet with a short neck where a special hose would be attached. This hose, in turn, would be connected to a large, long hollow instrument called a trocar that was used to drain excess fluids from hollow organs like the lungs, stomach, and bladder after arterial embalming from the machine was completed.
Tom tended to favor the porcelain table, chipped and difficult to adjust as it was, and he wheeled Brady up beside it. He undid the straps of the stretcher and walked around to the other side, gently pulling him over to the table.
He moved the empty stretcher back into the hallway to make up later and unlocked the supply closet to start getting all his personal protective equipment on. He glanced over at the shelves packed with various embalming fluids, his gut twisting uncomfortably when he thought about what he would have to do later that night.
Pulling on a thick plastic gown, booties for his feet, and gloves, he finished his personal protective equipment ensemble with a small surgical mask. Once he was fully suited up, he returned to the embalming table to start preparing Brady.
He removed the sheet and tossed it into the dirty linen bin. He carefully undressed Brady and folded up his pajamas to place into a plastic personal effects bag in case the family wanted them back. He covered up Brady’s exposed groin with a small towel for modesty and began to flex and work out the rigor mortis in his upper arms and neck.
Rigor mortis was a phenomenon that showed up a few hours after someone died. It caused all the muscles to become stiff and rigid, making proper positioning of the body difficult and therefore requiring the need to massage and flex the body to break it up first. After enough time, it would leave the body on its own, but that could take days.
There were unusual cases when a person would be in what embalmers called instant rigor, where the deceased would be immediately fixed in the position they died in. This was common in sudden and very traumatic deaths, such as someone who shot themselves whose hand would still be posed as if holding the gun.
Once rigor was removed from the body, however, it would not return. Tom was able to work the last bits of stiffness from Brady’s legs, and he placed Brady’s hands on his stomach, right over left.
Because Brady was never married, there was no reason to display his left hand on top because he wouldn’t have a ring to show. The thought made Tom’s heart hurt, and he sighed miserably.
He found himself holding Brady’s hand, pointless as it may have been, whispering, “I’m sorry you’re here, kiddo, but I’ll take good care of you.”
It was important for Tom to remember that the body he was taking care of was a person. Even though their life was over, what was left behind was still sacred. This was someone’s child, maybe a father or a mother, and Tom never wanted to lose sight of that. Taking care of the dead was a sacred profession, and it was his duty to always treat the deceased with the utmost respect.
He began to pour water into the embalming machine using the faucet, and then he added the chemicals he had predicted using at the time of the removal. The big tank of the embalming machine ended up being filled with a rich orange concoction, and Tom could tell by the color he had calculated it correctly.
Next, he began to gather all the instruments he would need to perform the actual embalming: scissors, scalpel, forceps, a large set of angular forceps, and an aneurysm hook. The hook was exclusively an embalmers’ tool, a thin piece of metal with a sharp crook at one end for dissecting and isolating vessels, and the other end had a slightly blunter point for separating the tissues.
Tom couldn’t start the process until Aaron physically brought him the embalming permission. Even though he trusted him, Tom needed to see that paper before he broke any skin to be safe. He took his time disinfecting Brady’s face, only doing what could easily be reversed if the family had a last-minute change of heart about the embalming.
Aaron came in with the permission in hand as he was finishing up his disinfection, and Tom was ready to go. Aaron didn’t stay to bother him, knowing he preferred to embalm alone.
Close the eyes and mouth. Raise the carotid artery and jugular vein. Fluid in the artery, blood out the vein. Pierce the organs with the trocar after arterial embalming was complete, use the trocar to inject a round of cavity fluid.
Tom took his time, ensuring everything was perfect, and stayed focused on making Brady as lifelike as possible. A typical embalming might take one to two hours, maybe three if he needed to raise additional arteries. When Tom was knocking on five hours and everyone else had already gone home for the day, he knew it was because he was still prolonging the inevitable.
Eight o’clock was coming, and he would have to get the embalming fluid ready for the deal.
By the time Tom was done, Brady was pink and radiant, smiling softly, and that was the last thing Tom saw before he draped a fresh sheet over his body. The damage for such an invasive procedure was minimal—a small incision along Brady’s collarbone to inject fluid and drain blood, and a small puncture in his abdomen where the trocar had done its work.
Small price to pay, Tom thought, for the moment when Mrs. Dresser saw her son again in his casket. He wouldn’t look like a strange gaping thing. Brady would be her son again, at least long enough to say goodbye.
