I stepped inside the viewing room of the mortuary and quietly closed the doors behind me. The services were long over, and the invited attendees had long left, but a series of unfortunate (and non-destructive) events kept the entire staff busy elsewhere for the immediate moment. The casket was still open. The flowers on the mounted wreaths were only now starting to fade.
I had arranged for some private time alone with the deceased. I see someone else taking advantage of the isolation.
He had his back to me while standing at the casket. His pants were sagging a particular way, and his right arm was in a furious motion. I wrinkled my face at the realization of his actions. He was quietly sobbing as he masturbated. The tones of what few sounds he vocalized were not the excited giggles of forbidden action, they were the whimpers of one last promise kept.
The distractions I gave the staff would keep them out of the viewing room for another hour. Judging from the way his pants were quivering, my unexpected company would be finished here in a few minutes. I locked the door behind me, just to give him, and me, a minute to compose ourselves if someone came by after all. I clasped my hands in front of me, and silently waited.
Just as I settled into a comfortable pose, his knees buckled slightly. He gasped, and struggled for deep breaths. I started walking across the carpeted floor towards him and the casket. I heard a crinkle of paper, a whispered farewell, and we both paused in silent respect for the deceased. By the time he had begun his frantic post-ritual cleaning up, I was standing beside him.
He looked up in fear and embarrassment, trying in vain to wipe his flaccid penis with inadequate paper towels. I winced at the thought of cheap paper against delicate skin and retrieved a pack of baby wipes from my satchel. “Here. Use these. Those won’t do a damn thing.”
He took it and mumbled that he was leaving at once. “If all goes right, we have another forty minutes at least. Clean up properly now, so you won’t get a rash later.” He paused and looked up at me in surprise. Ignoring the question on his face, I peered into the casket.
The deceased was treated well by the staff. She looked slightly gaunt, but with warmth on her face. Knowing this to be a dream, I did expect her to open her eyes and yawn as from a long sleep at any moment. Her pink dress was slightly stuffed in the chest, giving her a fuller bosom than her body provided. No jewelry, no surprise. She was to be cremated after all. Under her right hand, nearest to the front, was a folded piece of paper that was crumpling from dampness.
“If you intend for her to carry your sigil into the here-after, I suggest you place the paper in her hand as securely as you can. Things get… jostled… during travel.” I heard him catch his breath once more beside me. A quick zip of his pants, and he was now gathering the soiled napkins and baby-wipes into a plastic bag.
“His. Sam is male.” The man reached in and moved the paper into Sam’s right hand and tried to fold the fingers around the paper. It kept slipping out. “Dammit, I would tuck it in Sam’s mouth, but they sewn his lips shut. I’d cut through the thread, but they might make one last look. He has to take this with him!”
The wreaths were all addressed to Samantha. I took the urgent man’s word over the emotionless displays. “Don’t worry about what happens after we leave. What is important is that it is in his hand before I leave. Though, I am curious, Magus, what’s the sigil for? That is, if you are at leave to tell me.” I backed away to give him more room. He took a rubber band from his wrist, and bound the slip to Sam’s hand.
“Sam was born a female, but he has always been male. Those bitches did everything they could to keep him from having corrective surgery, and destroyed nearly every chance at happiness he had. The sigil is a physical gender preference request. He needs to take it with him, so when… if… he decides to come back and play this damn game again, he gets to choose what gender he is born as. How I came up with the sigil, I can’t tell you that. But, you understand, right?” He takes a step back and looks at me. I chuckle when I hear him catch his breath yet again. He sees my black wings. “You…”
I cut him off before he could fall into the cliche speech. “No. I’m not. Well… Kinda. I am an angelus of sorts, but I’m not an angel. Looks are deceiving. Anyways, you did a good job of tying it to his hand. The semen soaked through and is touching his palm. Good. That will make the energy less likely to fall away during the trip.” I looked over Sam’s prone body. “Hey, want to help his chances? See if you can push his hand down to the side, and bring a fold of the dress up to hide the hand. I can’t touch his body. Not yet.”
“Y…yea! Yea, okay!” He does just so, smoothing out the fold and making the presentation look settled again. A cursory glance would reveal nothing out of place now. “Should I close the casket?”
“No. It was open when I deployed the distractions. They’ll have to open it again as a safety check before sending him off to the crematorium. So. If you have given him all you can, this is the time for your last farewells.”
I backed a few more steps away from him and the casket to give him physical and emotional space. He nodded in thanks, and started to whisper a few words. His emotions choked him and all he could muster was a few sniffles. “Okay.”, he finally whispered. “Do what you have to do, angelus.”
He now stepped away as I stepped forward. I reached into the casket and slipped my hand through cloth and flesh. I easily found Sam’s spirit and pulled it gently free of his body. Appearing as a mote of light to my eyes, I gently tucked Sam away into a satchel pocket. “Hey, Magus, good news. The sigil came with him. He’s in the Slumber of the Dead, but you must be very close to him. He’s grabbed it tightly. No chance of him losing it during my leg of his trip.”
The man almost lost his composure at the news. A rattle of the locked door handle stopped the waterworks. “And to top off this fucked up day, now the viewing room is locked! Fuck!” Angry footsteps stormed away from the door.
“Oh shit. I’m trapped.”
“No, you’re not. You’re leaving with me. But you have to stay under my wing or you’ll be seen. Hang on. One last thing I have to do.” I reached back into the casket and slipped my hand between cloth and flesh. On the skin of the now empty body, I scratched two symbols. The first sealed the body, preventing anything from inhabiting it as long as the symbol was intact. The second relegated the flesh to the Boneyard. What would be destroyed in the crematorium would be remade in the Boneyard. Sam’s spirit, however, had a different destination. I smoothed the dress back down, and pulled the living man close. I draped a wing over him just as the door was unlocked and two staff members entered.
“I tell you, I heard voices!”
“No fair! You started the whiskey without me!”
“Bullshit, I did. I’m fucking sober, and I’m telling you, there were two voices in here! A man and a woman!”
“Maybe it was the deceased’s spirit having one last argument with her body.”
“Fuck you. It’s not our job to talk that kind of shit.”
“It’s not our job to be hearing ghosts.”
“Well, everything is the same as we left it.” The staff member shudders. “Lemme get the oven started. The sooner I’m done with today the fucking better.”
“Finally, you say something I can agree with.”
They leave, not seeing the magus tenderly holding on to my wing. “They didn’t see us!”
“No, but if you speak too loud, they might hear us. Whisper.”
“Okay. How are we going to get out?”
“Through the front door. Told you, I got this covered.” We started making our way out of the viewing room, across the main hall, and to the locked crash doors.
“The alarm will sound if you open it.”
“Then the staff will open it.” He looked at me in disbelief. “When the guy comes to the door, moan ‘Let me out!’ as low pitched as you can.” I started tapping on the front door while he bit his lip and stifled his giggles.
To my delight, the more nervous of the two staff members came to investigate the noise. Hearing the tapping, but not seeing me, he approached the door nervously. “There’s no one here… just me and Bob… there are no such thing as ghosts… there are no such thing as ghosts…” He touched a hand to the front door.
The magus leaned over as far as he could while still being cloaked. “Let me out. Set me free. Release meeeeeeeeee.” The staff member’s eyes widened as his mouth began twitching. “Release meeeeeeee.”
Instead of opening the door, the staff member started crying. “Oh God. Oh God, I’m so sorry for what they did to you, Samantha… er… Sam. You really are a guy inside!”
“What the fuck now? Why are you up there!”
“Uh… uh… just checking the doors one last time, Bob!” He unlocked the front door and held it open. “Go, Sam! Quick! Get out and have a good… er… afterlife!”
I nudged the Magus. He took the hint and whispered in the man’s ear one last time. “Thank youuuuuu….” We slipped out the door, still cloaked together, and walked quickly into the dark night.
Several blocks away, I withdrew my covering over the man. I tucked my wings around me in comfort. To anyone driving along the road, they just saw a man in a tux, and a woman in an oversize trench coat, walking along the road. Giggling.
“Fuck! We… you… got us out! That was insane! Ha! And I got to see Sam one last time! And you’re sure he has it?”
“He does.”
“Wonderful! Listen. Thank you. Thank you for helping me in there, and covering me, and most importantly, believing me and calling Sam a ‘he’.”
“I figure anyone willing to go through all that for one last goodbye probably knows the deceased better than anyone else. So, if you say Sam is male, then Sam is male.”
“I’ll be turning at the intersection coming up. You don’t have to walk me home. But I do appreciate you walking with me this far.”
“We’ll part at the crossroads then. Only logical that we do so there.”
“Crossroads? Oh fuck. Yea! Huh. Fuck. Wow.” He takes a deep breath. “So, uh… Angelus… when it’s my turn…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the request.
“I don’t know. I never know ahead of time. I didn’t even know who I was coming for today. It might be me, it might be someone else. It all depends on your path, and if anyone has a prior claim.”
“Yea, yea, that makes sense.” We arrive at the intersection and stand still. “Listen. Can I… light a candle for you, or for Sam? I mean, you didn’t have to help me in there and…”
“Just doing my job. If you want to light one for Sam, that’s up to you. But I’m telling you right now, where I’m taking Sam, he won’t be haunting anyone.”
He just stood there and nodded. “I have so many questions, Angelus! But… you have a job to do. And I have to keep on going. Thanks.”
We shook hands and parted. I remained standing there. He walked down the road to his home. To his credit, he didn’t look back. I waited until he was out of my sight before turning and slipping between realms.
I entered the Building, but not through the City. Stepping onto the third floor, I followed the lead of my keys to a particular suite. Unlocking it and opening the door, I remained in the hallway and retrieved Sam’s spirit. An androgynous figure materialized in front of me. In kir right hand, a piece of something appearing as paper was bound and stuck to the palm. Ke looked at it strangely.
“Hello, Sam. Your friend left you a good-bye note. Said you’d know what it was for.” Sam looked closer at the note and nodded vigorously. “Ah. Since you know it, I won’t remove it from you. I just wanted to make sure in case I had been told a lie of a story.” Sam smiled. I gestured into the suite. “My task was to escort you here. I have no idea what will happen next, but I’m sure it will be comfortable.” Sam looked inside, smiled, and nodded again. He waved farewell with his left hand and passed over the threshold. His form dissolved as it did so.
I closed and locked the suite. Humming a happy random tune to myself, I started back for the stairs. The dream gently ended as I began my descent.