Moon Dust to Dust

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The Moon-dust looked like little gray crystals in the sunlight. The workers did their damndest to ensure that the plot was even in every dimension. Their labor produced a fine spectacle of the dust as they bit into the Moon’s surface.

“That’s when I left,” Wendell Saxby said. He was oak-colored.

“Is that right?” Yurt Camine asked. He was a charcoal black man.

“Oh, I was heated, man,” Saxby said through his spacesuit comms.

“There’s the boss man,” Camine observed.

As he approached the two gravediggers, Quincy Harden made his way to the two of them.

“How’s it coming along boys?”

“Just fine, sir,” they said in unison.

“I want you to take a break and come back to the ship for some nourishment. Just make sure you secure the casket before you head in here.”

“Roger,” they said together. They returned to the lunar soil.

“Man, I swear she was right, though. Pretty face, slim waist…you know the rest.”

“And you just up and left like that?”

“No one disrespects my family like that. I don’t care how fine she is.”

The men looked at the casket close to the plot. They switched gears.

“Who was this poor son of a bitch?”

“They said he was some kind of engineer that had a debilitating disease. He had wanted to be a part of the Moon base but his illness prevented him. His last wishes were to incorporate himself in the Moon somehow. This was his last resort.”

“Damn,” Camine replied.

“I know one thing, this Moon dirt is no joke. How long have we been cutting?”

“At least four hours.”

Saxby spoke again. “Let’s take the boss’ orders and have a break.”

“Let’s do it.” They neglected to hold down the ties to keep the casket secure.

They arrived back in the base the size of a large house with excellent amenities. Gleaming steel and ornate windows called them to the state-of-the-art cafeteria.

Harden walked over to his staff and congratulated them.

“You’ve both done fine work out there. Before we know it, my Moon Funeral business will take off in more ways than one. I appreciate both of your efforts in extending the proper respect and dignity that Dr. Kitchens deserved. Kudos.”

“Thank you,” they both chimed.

Saxby and Camine got up to the line. A sizzling ribeye steak, asparagus and potatoes rested on Saxby’s plate, as roasted chicken breast, broccoli and rice remained on Camine’s.

“There she goes right there.”

“Mmm-hmm. She’s on her way to the mall around the corner,” Saxby responded.

“Spending your cash?” Camine asked.

“Not my dollars. I’m not paying for a mani pedi or a wash and set. The way she addressed my people was cause for her dismissal,” Saxby explained.

“Alright, put your comms back on when you get back in your suit. I want to hear every word that Harden has to say when we finally bury this bastard,” Camine observed.

“Roger that,” Saxby answered.

The two men journeyed out to the plot laughing and then stopped like a bus plowing into a hearse. Their hearts sank.

“Where the hell is he!?” Camine wondered with wild breaths.

“I thought you fastened him.”

“I thought you did!”

In the process of turning on his comms to listen to his manager, Saxby had switched to let the entire base know about his discontent.

“AAARGGHH!” he shouted. Everyone knew that it was his voice, even through the scream. This included Erina, the woman he had deserted. A smile curled around her lips as she kept walking with bags. She tripped and broke a heel and cut her lip in the process of laughing so hard.

“Hey, man, I believe everyone heard that!” Camine pointed out.

“That’s the least of my worries. Yours, too. Harden’s going to have our heads.”

The director was already walking towards them. “I heard a scream,” he said.

“That was me—I, we….” Saxby stumbled.

“We cannot positively identify Dr. Kitchens’ remains, sir. I failed to properly secure the casket.”

“You know I would have normally fired both of you on the spot, but I had employed some robots to help with the job. They lowered the casket into the ground during your lunch break. No sweat gentlemen. All you have to do is oversee the tractor pouring the rest of the dust on the grave. No worries,” The sun reflected off his black skin and on his immaculate, white teeth through the glass of his helmet.

Saxby and Camine each took a collective sigh as Harden turned away and walked back to the base.

“Dodged the gun on that one,” Camine said.

“More like a bazooka,” Saxby replied.