Disappear From View,
Part 4
by Frank Lambert

The View

By that afternoon, Jon’s world had turned almost completely upside down. He was sitting down to dinner with his wife when the phone rang. Jon thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t have any food in his mouth at the time, because he would have promptly chocked on it.

“My God, Jonathan,” exclaimed Linda, Jon’s wife of 27 years. “It's like you’re waiting for a ghost to jump out and scare you.”

If she only knew, thought Jon. He had made it through the entire day without telling a soul about what happened today. He was very grateful no one asked. The whole town would know by tomorrow. The local paper, The Mart Herald, had a story prepared already about the mysterious death of Frank Lane. Jon was willing to bet most of the town was already talking about it.

“Hello,” Jon spoke into the phone.

“Mr. Rooney, Nathan. I was wondering if you could come down to the coroner's right away?”

“Uh, sure,” said Jon absently. “Is it something I need to know quickly?”

“Not really. Just need you to have a look at something.”

“Can I finish supper first?”

“Sure, just eat fast if you could Mr. Rooney.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” Jon hung up the phone. Linda asked him what was going on. Jon told her nothing, and they ate in silence. Linda did not know Frank Lane was dead yet, but Jon was certain that while he was gone, she would call her circle of friends and get all the details she wanted.

Jon could have walked to the morgue. Mart was pitifully small, and if you had to, you could walk its entire length in less than 45 minutes. Jon had told Linda, however, that he needed to run into town to pick something up for school the next morning. Thankfully she only gave him a quizzical look instead of the usual line of questions that should have followed the announcement of such a late trip into town. Jon guessed she was too eager to burn up the phone lines and catch the gossip that was swirling around town to delay his trip.

It feels like I’m dreaming right now, thought Jon, as he pulled into the parking lot of the morgue. He could not shake the feeling he was having a nightmare, truth be told. He got out of his car and headed for the front door of the morgue.

He walked in and was greeted by the sight of Nathan taking a drink from a small flask.

“Mind passing that this way,” asked Jon.

“I get the funny feeling you're going to need this more than me, Mr. Rooney,” replied Nathan as he handed over the flask.

Jon did not care what was in the flask as long as it was strong. He was not disappointed. After taking a nice swig from the flask he handed it back to Nathan and asked, “Okay, what is it that I have to look at?”

“Other than Frank, just a locket he’s wearing,” replied Nathan.

Jon drew a deep breath. Last time he saw Frank Lane, he was alive and telling Jon about that damn dream again. “All right, hand me your flask again, and then lead the way, Nathan.”

They walked down a short hallway, and then through what Jon guessed to be a receiving room. Jon took another drink from the flask. He was starting to fell sick. God, I hope I can keep supper down, he thought to himself, as Nathan opened a door marked “Prep Room.”

The room was smaller that Jon would have thought. It was roughly the size of a large bedroom. Large enough for only one table and all the instruments and machines needed to prepare bodies for an eternal rest underground. Standing next to the table was a portly man, probably in his early sixties. Jon did not recognize the man as the man smiled and extended his hand.

“Jacob Smith, County Coroner,” he said.

“Jonathan Rooney,” replied Jon, as he shook his hand. Cold and clammy, what a freaking cliché, thought Jon.

Jacob took a step back and without warning threw back the sheet covering Frank Lane. At first Jon did not want to look at all. Then his head lowered and for the first time all day he was not surprised. Frank looked like Frank. Jon had been to many funerals and had never once seen a body look the way it did in life. Apart from the blue tinge of Frank’s lips, it looked as though Frank would open his eyes at any moment and start talking. Frank still had a bit of color to him.

“The body is in amazing shape considering he’s been dead for over 12 hours,” remarked Jacob.

“He looks like he could get up at any moment,” said Jon. Jon glanced down around Frank’s neck. “So where is this locket you told me about,” he asked over his shoulder to Nathan.

Nathan walked around the table where Frank lay, and retrieved a bag from one of the instrument tables used by Jacob.

“Um, if you two don’t mind I’m starving,” said Jacob as he excused himself.

Nathan opened the bag and dropped the necklace into his open hand. He breathed deeply and walked over to Jon. Jon was starting to put the sheet back over Franks face as Nathan walked over to stand next to him. As he drew the sheet over Frank’s mouth, Jon suddenly heard a whisper. He started and dropped the sheet. “What,” he asked of Nathan.

“I didn’t say a word, Mr. Rooney,” he replied. “Are you hearing something I’m not again?”

Jon shook his head and turned to Nathan and held out his hand to take the necklace. Nathan dropped the necklace into Jon’s hand. As the gold locket touched his palm, Jon’s world started to swim. He reached out for Nathan as the world went black…

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Nolan Chart