A Penny Down the Well: A Short Story Collection of Horrifying Events (6 page)

The next day Clint
received a call early in the morning. In the confusion and distress
normal of an abrupt awakening, Clint’s arms and hands flailed about
him in disorientation as he tried to locate from where the sound
came. His search ultimately led him to his pocket. He pulled his
phone out and answered with a gargled, “Hello?” One that hadn’t
been afforded the clearing of night-time’s restful muck.

“
Hello, is this Clint?”
The woman’s voice came. It sounded a bit older.

“
Yeah.” As Clint rubbed
his eyes, looking at the time. It was eight in the morning, far
earlier than a man out of work would normally wake. “Can I help
you?” Though he was in no condition to be helping
anyone.

“
Yes, this is Marie from
Loveland Funeral Home. I know that it’s early and I apologize, but
I was referred to you by Mr. Bill Headley.”

“
Bill? Yeah.” Clint
started waking up rather quickly after he realized who it was.
“Bill mentioned the Funeral Home. Said that you guys were looking
for a driver?”

“
Actually, Sir, that’s
exactly why I’m calling. Since Bill’s father, Orwell, passed away,
we’ve been in a bit of a bind. We’ve been working with another
funeral home for the arrangements of a driver, but tomorrow we’re
out of luck because it seems that driver is going to be at a
different funeral. Is it right that you purchased that hearse from
Mr. Headley?” Marie asked.

“
Yes. I bought it
yesterday, actually.” Clint thought maybe the woman was suggesting
he be available as early as tomorrow, but he considered that
unlikely.

“
Wonderful. Sir, could I
offer you a job in maybe driving and carrying the deceased for that
funeral tomorrow afternoon?” Marie asked, expressing that it was
absolutely likely.

Clint’s eyes went wide. He
stumbled in his words for a moment before answering the best he
could, “Sure. I can do that. Do I need to do or wear anything
special?”

“
We’ll go over all the
details for you when you arrive. We’ll need you to come in early
though, maybe around this time if that’s okay? And you may want to
wear a black suit if you’ve got one. If you’d like to do this for
us regularly, you might as well buy one, or we could give you an
advance to purchase a suit if you’d like. Of course, we’d need you
to sign a contract and whatnot.” The amount of information the
woman divulged expressed to Clint that he was in a good position.
They called him. They offered him the necessary supplies to work
for them. It seemed almost too good to be true. It made Clint
wonder why they didn’t buy the vehicle when it was for sale and
maybe save themselves some money, or have one of their own. But,
Clint was alright with the arrangement whether he was wary of the
pace or not.

“
Alright, I’ll be there
tomorrow at about eight. Thanks, Marie.”

“
No problem. See you
tomorrow, Clint. Thank you so much. You’re really helping us out
here.” Marie said. “Have a nice day.”

Clint kept the phone in
hand as Marie hung up on the other side of the line, staring
forward and very much awake. It appeared that the hearse purchase
was going to prove to be a lot more than a cheap way out of a bad
situation. Instead, the vehicle managed to afford him a job, though
it was one Clint wasn’t sure how he would handle.

Clint never had a problem
with the deceased. He was one of those, “once you’re dead, you’re
dead” kind of people. The supernatural never appealed to him other
than in books and movies. Ghosts and ghouls or old, creepy tales
always kept him interested, but he knew that these things weren’t
real. “Not enough evidence.” It was always the best answer. Clint
thought more about the social skills required for the job. He
didn’t think about the dead man he’d be carting from place to
place, but instead any sort of interaction that would be necessary
with the family of the deceased. People were sloppy, emotional
messes in the wake a friend’s or family member’s death, with an
emotional equivalent only matched when one of them are strung up to
lines and cords in a hospital bed. Clint wanted the opportunity,
thought it was entirely too perfect to pass up, but also hoped the
job didn’t involve a lot of face time with families.

Clint called Kaylie,
asking quickly without much background, “I need a suit. Something
simple and cheap. I don’t have a whole lot of money left
over.”

“
A suit? What, are you
going to cram yourself into a coffin and take a ride now?” Kaylie
said, smugly.

“
Hah. No, but I might have
been offered a job from Loveland Funeral Home to drive around some
coffins.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought, despite it
being fairly morbid to do so.

“
You what?” Kaylie
shouted. “You’re kidding me, right? So, you buy an old hearse and
now you’re driving around dead people?”

Clint paused for a moment,
thought about what she said, and answered with a quick. “Well,
yeah. Isn’t that what you’re
supposed
to do with a
hearse?”

Kaylie sighed. “You’re
ridiculous, you know that, right?”

Clint laughed. “Are you
going to help me find a suit or not? You know I barely know how to
dress myself. I could really use your help.” The last statement was
delivered more pleadingly.

After a short grumble,
Kaylie agreed. “I’ll be there in a minute. Yes, we’re taking my
car.” And she hung up.

Kaylie arrived at Clint’s
place in her normal due time and they head out to a small strip
mall near the center of town. The place had a few basic suits set
up on mannequins in the window, with large, contrasting text that
read:

50% off everything in the
store! Buy two suits, get the third FREE! Even open
Sunday!

The fluorescent oranges
and greens of the text scribbled on the window easily devalued the
attire behind it, making the place seem more concerned about being
cheap than it was concerned about formality. That is what Clint
asked for.

They went through the door
and a small bell hanging by a ratty piece of string bobbed and
bounced off of the glass, jingling in a pitiful cry to whatever
attendant was damned to manage the place. It was only a moment
before a short man, about as tall as some of the racks began moving
through the store, first barely notable by the crest of his head
and the swaying of clothes on the racks. The display reminded Clint
of a shark in water, revealing only its fin. Of course, Clint
wouldn’t expect the result of whatever emerged from the sea of
black jackets and suits to be anything as terrifying as the ocean
predator. That proved true when the bald, pudgy man
emerged.

“
Hello! Hello! Welcome to
Suit Savers, where you save on suits you crave!” The pitch-line, as
miserable as it was, came out in a robotic drone. Clint had heard
many like it before, especially when calling different businesses.
Clint could always tell that the employee on the other side of the
line wasn't remotely interested in the “big savings” or “special
limited time offers” any more than he was.

“
Yeah, I’m looking for a
suit.” Said Clint, Mr. Obvious.

“
Well, you’ve come to the
right place!” Said his twin.

“
I don’t need anything
fancy. Black suit. Something for a funeral.” Clint said, more
bubbly than most people would if they were buying something for
attending a funeral.

“
Oh.” The sales associate
tapered off, looking around awkwardly.

“
No, no. It’s not for
anyone I know.” Clint assured the man.

“
Going to a funeral for
someone you don’t know?” The associate asked.

“
Well, I’m going to be
driving the hearse. I just need to look professional, I guess.”
Clint cleared his throat, looking over to Kaylie for some
help.

Kaylie piped up with the
prompt. She explained to the man what sort of styles she thought
Clint would work best in. She worked with the associate as Clint
wandered aimlessly about the tie area, lifting every obnoxious tie
he could find, holding it to his neck until Kaylie looked his way
and disapproved with a quick shake of her head.

Eventually everything was
handled and he bought a cheap suit that looked pretty good on him
despite not being tailored specifically for his body. When he came
out, Kaylie smiled and clasped her hands together.

Kaylie mocked, “Look at
you, all dressed up. Too bad the only ones that are going to see it
are stiffs.” And she grinned.

Clint looked himself over
in the mirror, admiring the new, formal look. It wasn’t his style
to dress up, even on nights out. Jeans, an old t-shirt and some
shoes he’d had since high school.

“
Well, I’d say, if they
could see anything on their last ride, it should be this fine, fine
specimen, don’t you think?” Clint jested.

Kaylie rolled her eyes.
“Are we done?” She didn’t need any more of that.

Clint nodded and they
left. On the ride home, Kaylie was awkwardly quiet. Eventually,
Clint felt the inclination to ask her about it.

“
Is everything alright?
You’re not saying a whole lot.” Clint asked, watching her as she
drove beneath the high sun of the afternoon sky.

“
Yeah.” Kaylie replied
quickly. She glanced from the road to him, then back to the road.
“Are you sure you want to do this? It seems really strange, doesn’t
it? I mean, do many of these companies contract out drivers? Why
didn’t the company just buy up the hearse themselves?” Kaylie asked
some of the same questions Clint did.

Clint shrugged, not very
concerned with the questions after he’d proposed them to himself.
“I guess they could have. I don’t know, maybe they don’t have
enough staff to have a driver? Maybe they don’t like the liability?
I’m unsure. According to Bill, they used to contract out to his
dad, the guy that owned the hearse.”

Kaylie nodded, thinking
quietly to herself.

Clint continued. “This is
a good thing, Kaylie. I’m surprised you’re not happier for me. I
have a vehicle that’s more trustworthy than my own, despite being a
bit older. It was cheap. I have a job. These are all good things,
right? So why are you so concerned?” Clint couldn’t help but ask.
Though the situation was a strange one and things were moving fast,
the result appeared to be good.

Kaylie sighed and nodded
again. “I don’t know. Something about the history of the vehicle.
What you’ll be doing. It feels sort of sacred. That’s somebody’s
loved one in there. It’s not just a dead body. I don’t know if you
understand the seriousness of it all.”

Clint didn’t think much
about it from that perspective, just like Kaylie assumed. Clint
answered in the best way he could. “Do you think nurses and doctors
become attached to every single person they care for? I’m sure that
they care enough to be careful, to not hurt them, but remain
emotionally distant. I don’t know the people, but I know it’s a
person in there. I’m not going to do donuts in the hearse or
anything.” Clint always tried to lighten situations with
humor.

Kaylie broke into a small
smile, glancing his way again. “Well, I suppose as long as you’re
not doing donuts, everything’s alright.” As if it were her biggest
concern.

Clint smiled back and
stared down the long road ahead of them. He was looking at more
than white and yellow lines, pavement and the occasional roadside
trash. He was staring into an image of his future, one that was
developing in front of his eyes, where he’d be a driver for a
funeral home in a hearse he owned and would operate as a normal
vehicle. It was a strange image, but it was his.

The next morning came and
Clint dressed himself into the newly acquired suit. He admired
himself for a moment again and went out the door as an example of
the entire repertoire of what was required for the job; except for
the knowledge of the job, which he’d hope to gain in a crash course
at Loveland Funeral Home.

Clint would arrive early,
as he agreed he would. He came through the large, wooden double
doors of the chapel-style funeral home, walked through a mess of
wooden crucifixes and pictures of Jesus Christ, each staring at him
with the same sort of indignation of his lack of superstition and
belief in him. The place wasn’t comfortable to Clint and he was
happy to be was working behind a wheel and not behind a desk.
Eventually he’d reached the office at the end of the hall and a
woman somewhere around her early fifties, with blonde hair amassed
with an invading gray styled in a fashion that had been out for a
decade, greeted him.

“
Oh, you must be Clint! So
good to meet you. We spoke yesterday morning. I’m Marie, and I’m
the manager of the home here.” And she looked him over. “You look
fantastic.” While extending her hand.

Clint accepted her hand
with a light shake and smiled to the complement. “Thanks. I was
hoping it’d be appropriate. Good to meet you face to
face.”

“
Yes, it’s appropriate.
Now, I bet you’re interested in knowing what you have to do and
what you can expect to be paid for each job?” She smiled, nodding
as she spoke.

Clint nodded himself.
“Right now, Miss, I think just about anything would do.” After the
recent purchases and withdrawals from his meager savings, he needed
the cash.