Sunshine Coffins

Welcome to The Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is to write a story with the prompt “in the nick of time.”

This week it’s Cathy MacKenzie’s turn. Her writings have been published in over 200 print and online publications. Her latest book is MOSES AND ME, “tails” of a dog and a senior—a seventy-year-old (Cathy)—who’s disliked dogs her entire life but suddenly had to have one. Available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1990589383

Check out www.writingwicket.wordpress.com for further information on Cathy’s works.

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Sunshine Coffins

by Cathy MacKenzie

“Bob,” Elise said, “I think we should go to Sunshine Gardens. Check out the coffins.”

“Woman, have you lost your mind? Whatever for? Neither of us will be popping off any time too soon.”

“You never know, Bob. It’s best to be prepared. Even your sweet Winnie said so. As stupid as she portrayed herself, at least she had the smarts to make funeral arrangements before her death.” Elise paused to gauge her husband’s reaction. There was none. No doubt he was relishing his crazy mother’s death and post-mortemly thanking her she had the foresight to pre-pay her funeral. Otherwise, he—no, they: Bob and Elise—would’ve been stuck with the bill.

Elise sighed. “Yes, I think we should go. How about this afternoon? Not like we’re doing anything. Just a lazy Saturday.” As per the usual Saturday, she thought. “Besides, if you happen to die before me, I don’t want Jimmy picking out my coffin. Who knows what contraption I’d end up in.” And who knows what contraption I’d end up in if I died before you.

Bob suddenly came to life. “What kind of coffin do you plan to buy for me, Elise?” 

“Me? I think it’s ‘us,’ Bob. You and me. We’re buying our coffins together. Out of our household fund.”

“Okay, then,” he said, jumping off the couch. “Let’s go. Now!”

“I should call Betty. Let her know we’re going out. Not sure what time Jimmy plans to come home.”

“Cripes, Elise. He’s a teenager. I’m sure he can handle coming home to an empty house. In fact, I know he can.”

***

A half hour later, Bob and Elise stood at the desk at Sunshine Gardens, waiting...

Elise had explained the purpose of their visit, but the gentleman was none too pleased. “We’re busy, Ma’am. We have another funeral later today. And several appointments.” He stressed “appointments” as if Elise should’ve known to call ahead.

“But we drove all this way,” she moaned (even though it was less than a thirty-minute drive). “We just want to look at the coffins. You do have a room full of them, don’t you?” She’d seen displays at funeral homes on TV.

“We do, Ma’am, but we’d prefer to have a staff member in the room with you. To provide guidance.”

“So you don’t have a free person at the moment”— Bob glanced at his name tag and added—“Mister Fitzgibbons?”

Mr. Fitzgibbons turned his attention to Bob. “We do not. I am sorry. Perhaps you’d like to make an appointment for later in the week and—”

“There are other funeral homes,” Bob interjected. “Elise, why don’t we try another one?” 

“Calm down, calm down. Excuse me a second while I see what I can do.”

“We are fine looking at them ourselves,” Elise said. “We don’t make up our minds easily—or quickly—so it’d be a waste of your precious time to stay with us.”

“Sure,” Mr. Fitzgibbons said. “Give me a moment.”

“It was a ‘second’ the first time,” Bob muttered. “Now it’s a ‘moment.’”

Elise hushed her husband as the funeral director headed down the hall. “Bob, how rude was that!”

“Yeah, he was very rude.”

“No, not him. You!”

“Oh, Elise, he didn’t hear. But how rude was he not wanting to wait on us.”

“Well, I think he did, Bob. They just happen to be busy with dead people.”

“Yeah, well, he’s gonna be dead shortly if we’re kept waiting much longer.”

Minutes later, Mr. Fitzgibbons reappeared. “Come this way.”

Elise winked at Bob, elated to have gotten her own way.

They followed him into a large room filled with coffins galore.

“Wow,” Elise mumbled. “I never expected this many.”

“Each coffin is labelled. Here is a pad and pencil.” He handed the items to Elise. “Walk around, see what you like. Mark the numbers on the pad, and I can advise further. I’ll be back when I can. As I said, we’re short-staffed today.”

After Fitzgibbons left the room, Bob muttered, “He never said they were short-staffed. What a crock.”

“Doesn’t matter, Bob. We’re here. We’re alone with coffins. I’d much sooner check them out together, just you and me.”

“Me, too, Elise. Great work.”

They walked around the perimeter of the room and then down four aisles. Most of the coffins were stacked on metal shelving, two high. Several, on the back wall, were three high.

“Elise, don’t you find it a bit creepy looking at these things?”

“No. You do?”

“I do.”

“Death’s a fact of life. If it weren’t for death, there’d be no life.”

“That’s profound, Elise. Your words?”

She smiled as she rubbed one of the burnished coffins.

“What about this one, Elise?” Bob pointed to a coffin on the floor.

Elise examined it. “Looks okay. Nice wood. Lovely fluffy satin.” She wondered if it might be too pricey, what with all the ornate carvings. Who needed all that buried six feet under? Ha, she thought again. That sounded like something Bob would say, trying to save an almighty buck. Though, heaven knows, they needed every buck they could, what with the rising cost of living and Bob’s sporadic work hours.

“I’m gonna try it out.”

Next thing Elise knew, Bob was prone in the coffin, his hands clenched across his chest.

“Bob! What the... What are you doing?” She scanned the room, eyeing the open door. What if Fitz returned? They’d be in deep doo-doo. 

“Bob,” she whispered. “Get up. Up and out. He’s gonna come back. And if not him, it’ll be someone else. We’ll be kicked out. Probably arrested. And what would Jimmy do then?”

Her husband didn’t move. What the hell! Had he died? She giggled. Had he gotten into the coffin in the nick of time? No, even if he’d suffered his demise, he’d have to be taken out, clothes removed, embalmed—all that weird crap “they” did to the dead.

“Bob! Get up,” she pleaded again.

He remained motionless.

“Bob,” she whispered, “I’m gonna scream if you don’t soon come to life. One, two, three, four...” Had he died? Really and truly? 

Just when she was envisioning a future without him and thinking she might actually enjoy the peace and quiet, Jimmy’s face flashed in front of her. Drat, she’d have to deal with their son on her own and—

At that moment, Bob slowly “rose from the dead.” He slid one leg over the side, and then the other. Then, he was standing beside her. “Ha, funny, eh?”

“Yeah, hilarious.”

“Had to try one out. Figured all that fluffy cloth stuff was just that: fluffy. But fake. As soon as you were in it, you’d sink to wood. But I was surprised. Quite comfy. Guess that’s why I fell asleep.”

At that moment, Fitzgibbons appeared. “Checking in. How you making out?”

Another “just in the nick of time,” she thought, and this one was real! What in the world would he have thought had he entered when Bob was in the coffin?

Elise grasped the pad to her chest, not wanting him to see it was blank, and then she almost fainted when she saw the once-pristine linens in the coffin Bob had availed himself of. It was obvious someone’s (her husband’s) shoes had dirtied it.

“Thank you, Mr. Fitzgibbons. But we must run. My son, Jimmy, just called. He has a slight emergency at home. I’ll call you later, okay, and make an appointment for later in the week as you suggested.”

“Mighty fine coffins there, sir,” Bob said. “They look very comfy. Are we allowed to—”

Elise grabbed Bob’s hand and out they raced. 

Truth be known, she was becoming a bit freaked by death.

**The author wrote a series of “creepy crazy” Christmas books for four consecutive years (2012-2015). She has been busy reformatting them into one book (hopefully in time for Christmas 2025), so the wacky Grimes family has been on her mind. Thus, a new Grimes story might make its way into a non-Christmas book at some point.**

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The Spot Writers:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/