Another Man's Treasure

Kneeling on the padded stool, elbows resting on the casket and forehead touching his folded hands, the man alone with the deceased woman in Parlor A appeared deep in prayer.

Shelly looked up from her desk. The door to her office, adjacent to the parlor, was slightly ajar, and she could see him through an extravagant floral arrangement but he could not see her. His head remained bowed.

“That’s definitely him again.”

He suddenly looked up and took a quick glance around the room, then turned back toward the coffin. He reached in and grabbed the dead woman’s hand, pulling off her wedding ring.

“What the?” Shelly jumped toward the door.

But he was faster, quickly standing and crossing the room and leaving through an unmarked door to the parking lot.

****

Walking into the unoccupied house, Johnny and Lou found the dining room table set with silver bowls, trays, knives, forks and spoons atop a starched, pressed tablecloth. The smell of food wafted from the kitchen, but the men ignored it and went upstairs.

In the master bedroom, jewelry was laid out neatly on the dresser. Grabbing a pillow from the bed and pulling off the outer case, Johnny separated the costly from the costume and carefully placed what he wanted into the sack; he rushed downstairs, just behind Lou who had quickly hit the two other bedrooms. Lou held a duffel bag; Johnny didn’t know its contents, but didn’t need to ask.

Before leaving, they went to opposite ends of the dining room table, grabbed a hold of the cloth and walked toward each other, the dishes and cutlery clanking together loudly in the gathering material. Lou handed his end off to Johnny and they were out the door.

***

They surveyed the morning’s take now strewn across their kitchen table. “You really got some goodies this time buddy.” Lou smiled. It made him happy to do right by his fallen brother’s best friend, who had taken him in after the war. His career path may have been suspect since then, but he was good at what he did.

“When you’re a black sheep born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you learn the difference between trash and treasure. Easier to separate the lambs for slaughter down at the pawn shop.”

***

Sitting in her apartment, Finn and Oliver purring loudly next to her on the couch, Shelly thought more about what she had seen that afternoon, and even more about him.

What did it matter? The police didn’t protect her when she tried to do the right thing a lifetime ago, so she wasn’t about to say anything about this. As for him, handsome or not, too many roses in love’s garden had drawn blood, and she was happier with herself and her work.

“Wow, she’s never looked quite like that,” or “I hardly recognized him,” were words of joy to her, even though she admittedly overdid it now and then - and sensed some comments were sarcasm. But what was the harm? Being a funeral home “image consultant” allowed her to keep alive the memories of those who, well, weren’t, and give them a little something extra before they left their lasting impressions in this world.

***

Johnny’s comfort with death was born when his mother took him to his first funeral, a great aunt Miriam he didn’t know. On the whole it wasn’t a big deal – an old person sleeping, lots of smelly flowers, and many more strangers. His takeaway gem was the comment from a young man who worked at the funeral home.

“You folks want any of her jewelry? She’s got some nice stuff. People ask all the time if we slip something off before we close the casket, but don’t worry, we don’t. Would be the perfect crime, though.”

****

“Lou, I’m going to Dunn & Winslow after this.”

Johnny couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d seen her several times, and her face was clear in his mind even as he and Lou worked another empty house full of memories, valuables, and the smells of potluck casseroles and baked goods dropped off by the well-meaning to ease the sorrow of the remaining.

“They get one this week we didn’t know about?”

“Yeah. Probably nothing. I’ll let you know if we need to hit the house later.”

“I might be at the doctor when you get home. Don’t go for the goods without me.”

****

As he walked into the front foyer of Dunn & Winslow Funeral Home, Johnny immediately saw a black sign, two names spelled out in white push-pin letters and arrows pointing in opposite directions.

“Welcome sir, may I help you?”

“Um, yes, I, uh, I need a minute.” Johnny reached inside his jacket for a handkerchief.

“Oh certainly. I am so sorry for your loss …” The man’s voice veering as his gaze shot past Johnny to the front door where an elderly man was struggling with the weight. “Excuse me.” He rushed to help with the door. As he did, Johnny stole a fast look at the sign.

“Well hello again.” He swung around. It was her.

“Hello … again?” His mind raced, surprised to be face-to-face with the woman he was hoping to see during this impromptu visit, but caught a little off guard by the prospect of having met her before and not remembering, or worse.

“Oh, I apologize. I’ve seen you here at other services. I’m Shelly, I work here.”

“No problem. I’m Johnny. I’m here for, um, the calling hours.”

“Oh, Mr. Andrews?”

“No, Shields.”

“I see. Let me show you to Parlor D.” She tried to remain calm while wary of the unfolding situation.

“Please, you first.” He absentmindedly swept his hand in front of him toward the parlor in the back of the building where he’d been many times, even before Shelly had even begun to head there.

She started walking, staying a step ahead, down the hallway. As they passed a small, empty salon-style room, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey, I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, sure. Do you need me to get the director?” She opened the small black notebook she carried when calling hours were taking place; a bright yellow legal pad seemed garish against the somber setting. She poised her pen above an empty page ready to take notes on the pending exchange and nodded at Johnny to continue.

“I lied about why I’m here.”

“Oh really? Why would someone come to calling hours if not to pay their respects?”

“I am here to pay my respects, but not to Mr. Shields.”

“Actually, it is Mrs. Mrs. Terry Shields. She’s a wonderful woman. Well, was. Beautiful, great bone structure. I’m the make-up artist here.”

“Oh yeah?” He grew more panicked, remembering the “Well hello again” and not knowing what else she may have seen during his previous visits.

“So, what’s this about paying respects, but not to Mr., or Mrs. Shields?”

“I came to see you.”

****

“Hello? Sure, hold on a sec.”

Lou held the yellowed, white-plastic telephone handle out in his outstretched arm to untangle the cord as he handed it to Johnny.

“Who is it?”

Lou shrugged, thinking there was probably some late-night barroom story behind this, but was mildly concerned. They never got phone calls.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Yeah, you said you might call.”

“You thought about what I said? And?”

“Oh really, what ring was that?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, let me think about that.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Johnny placed the receiver back into its cradle.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that call for one. And yesterday, when you went for that cheap ashtray. And I saw the hole you punched in the screen door to get in – so much for leaving no trace!”

Johnny looked down at the table, silent for a long while in his thoughts.

“What’s going on is that woman who called.”

“No kidding. What about her?”

Johnny began to unwind the tale. The different times he saw her. His going to see her. Her call. Indeed, THE call.

“She’s on to me. Saw me take a ring. Turns out she has a cop friend who told her about a bunch of break-ins while people were at funerals and figures I’m involved in those, too.”

“Jeez, Johnny, all our work! I even got a guy lined up to buy it all, set you up for good in case …”

Lou’s words trailed off. He was saying too much.

“What’s that?”

Lou raised his hand, a finger pointing up, signaling he was about to cough. He was faking, but then the fit kicked in for real, and a speck of blood flew from his mouth onto the floor.

“That’s it! I’m taking you to the hospital!”

****

It had been seven days since Marilyn Adams had died and four since he’d last spoken to the police, so when David pulled up to his mom’s empty home and saw the dining room light was on, he was concerned.

Parking the car, he walked across the lawn, up the steps and unlocked the front door. Peering into the dining room, he stood frozen: The table was set with the dishes and cutlery that had come up missing the day of her funeral. Looking closer, he saw another collection of items in the middle of everything – all her missing jewelry, including her wedding ring.

****

Johnny walked down the sidewalk and entered the small roadside park. He could see her seated on a picnic table in front of a pond.

“Hi.”

“Hi yourself.”

“It’s done. I finished the last one an hour ago.”

“Thank you. I know that was hard.”

“Ah, what can you do? Love makes you do strange things.”

“Love? Don’t you think we should go on a date, first?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I’m not busy now.”

“Can you give me an hour? I need to visit Lou at the hospital.”

“Want me to go with you?”

“That’d be nice. He’ll get a laugh out of it.”

****

The car pulled slowly out of the hospital parking lot and into traffic.

“I don’t get it, he was doing fine. I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“Johnny, I am so sorry.”

As they drove through town, Johnny began telling stories about life with Lou.

“His brother died 20 years ago and he lived with me ever since. After all we’ve done, now I’ve got to plan his funeral – how’s that for irony?”

Shelly smiled meekly, then realized she was still holding the envelope the nurse had handed her as they were leaving the hospital. “For Johnny” was scrawled across the sealed packet.

“Hey, there is still this.”

Johnny pulled the car over.

“Please.”

Carefully tearing one end, Shelly removed a folded piece of paper. Opening it, a smaller piece fell onto her lap.

“What is it?”

She handed everything to him. He read the note first. Lou’s handwriting, for the last time.

“For being the brother I lost.”

He unfolded the smaller paper. It was a check for $20,000.