Disrobed for Death Read Free

How? And where was she? This was definitely not her bathroom.
    The long corridor with its gilded pier mirrors struck a familiar cord, and recognition seeped in. Many times before, she’d stood in this very place, and it wasn’t under good conditions. This was Roselawn, the local funeral home.
    “What the hell am I doing here?”
    There was no one to answer her. She stepped closer to the guest register outside Parlor A and stared in horror at the name on the tiny marquee—Susan Griffin.
    “I’m dead?” She held out her arms which looked very much alive. Then she looked down, and her voice screeched to a high, shrill note. “And I’m naked?”
    So she had escaped her worse fear of dying on the crapper, but dead is dead, and she wasn’t ready to accept her fate.
    “It’s not fair. I can’t be dead. It was just a simple fall. I must be dreaming. Besides, if I’m dead why isn’t someone here to help me cross over? Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?” She looked down the long hall and into the parlor. And wasn’t she supposed to see a bright light, or did that just happen in movies? All of a sudden she wondered if….
    “Hey, wait a minute. I wasn’t perfect, but I lived a decent life, always tried to do the right thing.”
    “Hello,” she shouted, but no one answered. Frustration turned to anger, and she took a swing at the guest book, determined to knock the book from the stand. Instead, her hand passed through it. “Not good,” she said. “Not good at all.” She reared back to try again when she heard something.
    A woman pushing a vacuum cleaner entered at the other end of the corridor. Yes, she wanted answers, but ghost or not, Susan had no intention of facing anyone in her birthday suit. With one arm covering her breasts and the other shielding her private part, she looked for a hiding place. The best she could find was a wimpy palm plant.
    Holding her breath, she wiggled behind the arrangement. About the only thing it covered was her face. Peeking through the foliage, she watched the cleaning lady pass without so much as a glance in her direction.
    Then it hit her. “Of course, she can’t see me if I’m dead. And if she can’t see me, then she can’t hear me, either.”
    Confusion roiled in her gut. She had tons of questions, no answers, and no one to help her.
    The clock in the foyer indicated it was five a.m. No wonder there were no visitors. Roselawn had long gone the way of the modern world. No one sat up with the dead anymore. The doors opened at eight a.m. and closed at eight p.m., but surely she wasn’t the only deceased person in the place. A light over the register in front of Parlor B and Parlor C indicated she had company.
    While she was curious about the other occupants, she was more concerned with her own predicament. Maybe if she saw her body laid out, it would convince her that this was not a bad dream, and life as she knew it really was over. Gathering all her courage, she eased into her parlor.
    Flowers lined the back wall, and arrangements on easels surrounded the casket. The outpouring suggested a big turnout. Family and friends were to be expected, but she also knew there would be those she hadn’t seen in years. Aside from her family, there was only one who really mattered—Wesley.
    “Why now?” she asked. “I never had the chance to see him again, and he was the real reason I moved back home. I was so hoping we could recapture what we once had.”
    Susan pictured her family grieving for her. That was sure to hurt more than she could imagine. Oh, and she could count on her high school classmates. Most would come out of loyalty to their friendship, but there were those who would come out of curiosity, to see if they had held up better than she had. After a look-see at her remains, that little clique she detested would mosey to the kitchen for coffee and to munch on whatever goodies church members had provided. There, they would rehash old times. What the heck, it