Creeps: a Novella

Dedicated to the women in my life. When life gave them hell,they gave hell back.

Rosa Perez had started offher Friday morning in the same manner she had for the past thirty-five years. Amonotonous routine of waking up at the crack of dawn along with the firstcrowing of her rooster had become her everyday ritual. She began getting readyat a leisurely pace, setting a kettle of water to boil in preparation for herfresh brewed coffee, in the meanwhile beginning to dress, slipping out of herwool pajamas and into her nylon pantyhose and a modest skirt which draped justpassed her knees. She carefully pulled her chubby arms into a pearlescent silkblouse and clasped her great grandmother's golden cross carefully around herneck. She slipped her tender feet into a pair of sensible faux leather roundtoe flats, each with an extra bit of comforting padding to alleviate thepressure on her arches during the long periods in which she would be standingthroughout the days ongoing funeral services.

She took a great deal of pride in her well-kept appearance.It was something her mother had instilled in her from a very young age.

Rosa brushed her short, graying hair until she was satisfiedwith its placement, locking it in place with a generous amount of Aqua Net. Thekettle whistled loudly, calling from the kitchen. She finished her preparationwith a small spritz of her signature lavender scented perfume which sat on herbed stand.

Ms. Perez was a woman of habit; sixty-three years of age,she had grown accustomed to these things, never wanting to stray too far fromher creature comforts or the reliability of her unremarkable life. Shefelt her bones begin to ache as they always did in the early morning. Sheshuffled over toward the kitchen, removing the kettle from the hot burner,pouring the steaming water into a ceramic mug and using a small teaspoon tostir in some Nescafé coffee grounds, blowing on it for a moment before taking herfirst sip, feeling the warming sensation irradiating through her rotund frame.

She arrived at St. Sebastian's Funeral Home and Crematory anhour early, deciding to wait in her car with the heater on, enjoying theremainder of the fresh brew from her travel mug and listening to Today's Top 40on station G.93. Thinking to herself how she missed simpler times when themusic would tell a story in the form of a pleasant melody instead of whateverthe noise currently playing through her speakers was.

At exactly 7:55am she walked in through the employeeentrance after inputting their access passcode. A shrieking alarm went off. Shepushed her shoulder into the door and tugged the doorknob upwards. It stopped.

“Every-morning.” She groaned.

Rosa clockedin using the company's only remainingautomatic punch clock and placing her timecard back into its designated slotand made her way to the break room to drop off her lunch bag.

" Rosa, good morning!" Victoria Mason saidcheerfully, a funeral arranger who had started a week prior. She was a spindlyyoung thing with auburn hair that grazed the top of her shoulders, always thefirst to extend a morning greeting.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and smiled a wide toothygrin stretching her already thin lips until they almost vanished completely.

" Good-morning Victoria," she replied warmly witha smile.

" Morning, ladies," Paulina Lopez walked in, shehad been a long-standing funeral arranger, having been employed with thecompany for over a decade.

" Morning Paulina! Happy Wednesday!" The youngwoman exclaimed in a sing-songy manner.

" Hola Paulina," Rosa said slipping her lunch baginto the refrigerator.

Her and Rosa got along well enough but felt her work attirewasn't well suited for a place of business, particularly her tight skirts andtops which never seemed to be buttoned up entirely; giving way to an ampleamount of cleavage which she thought was inappropriate. She was a heavier setwoman around her mid-to- late forties, which only further irked Rosa.

" Happy Wednesday, halfway to the weekend. Hallelujah!We really need to get that back door alarm fixed. It almost made me spill mycoffee.” Paulina said in an exasperated tone, making her way over to the fridgeand placing her sack lunch inside.

" Today should be pretty exciting though, how often dowe get criminals escorted to a service?" Paulina said pulling an apple outfrom the lunch bag.

" It is sorta an unusual situation." Victoriastated with some noticeable apprehension.

" Monica told me a Channel 11 reporter had calledasking questions. I guess the word got out." Paulina said leaning in closeenough for them to hear.

" Really?!" Victoria was beaming at the idea.

" Yep. So naturally I dressed for the occasion. Whoknows we might end up on the news." Paulina straightened her back,flattening the creases on her blouse and adjusting her dark navy skirt.

They had all been made aware of today's service and thespecial circumstances a week prior. Martha Delaguardia's only son ErnestoDelaguardia; an inmate from a federal detention facility would be escorted tohis mother's funeral service today at noon. There had been rumblings around theoffice about the circumstances surrounding his incarceration ranging from drugtrafficking, a DUI to armed robbery and homicide, she hardly paid any of these claim'smind feeling there was no spectacle to be found in the grief of another person,regardless of the mistakes he had made in his life.

" Ay niñas, no matter who he is or what he has done, heis still a young man who's just lost his mother. We should show somerespect."

" Rosa is right of course. We must mindourselves." Missy Pelluck had overheard the conversation making her wayinto the room.

Missy was Rosa's dearest friend and her fellow funeralattendant, having worked for St. Sebastian's for almost as long. Both womenfound solace in each other surrounded by all the younger generation's shakymorals and at times questionable ideals.

"Okay, okay. Mother Teresa. Can you really blame me,Rosa? Nothing interesting ever happens around here.” Paulina teased, once again flatteningthe stubborn creases of her blouse before making her way out of the kitchen.

Victoria offered a nervous nod and left shortly after,leaving Missy and Rosa alone in the kitchen.

" These young folk are going to put me in an earlygrave amiga." Rosa said shaking her head.

" Oh Rosa, they are just excited for a little change intheir everyday routine. Don't mind them. You shouldn't be worrying so much.This is your last month before retirement after all." Missy smiled a warmgrin.

The chapel had been prepared the day before. An assortmentof white orchids and lilies had been placed up front where the casket would sitalong with a spray of white roses delicately on top of the cherry wood mahoganycasket. It was said to be a relatively small service comprised of a few friendsand a small family belonging to the deceased's sister; Jessica Nunez. They hadcome by the previous evening to drop the flowers off; they seemed like a nicefamily, her son Jorge Nunez; a man in his early thirties along with his youngwife Stephanie and their two children (Michael age twelve and their girl Jennyaround eight or nine.) Kristopher Nicholas had taken them on as his clients; aseasoned funeral arranger himself he was sure to make the experience asseamless as possible for the grieving family.

"What lovely flowers," Missy exclaimed, adoring them as she made her waydown the red carpeted pathway which led up to the front of the chapel.

"They are beautiful, the nephew brought them in yesterday evening an hour beforeclose. Beautiful family. Small. But Beautiful." Rosa said rearranging themever so slightly to ensure their beauty would not go under appreciated.

"Was the sister of the deceased with them?" Missy asked.

"No, she wasn't. He told me she hasn't been well since the passing."

"That poor dear," Missy's voice tender and full of heartfelt compassion." And her son? Any news on how he is doing?" I imagine he isn't doingmuch better."

Rosadidn't answer straight away, her focus purely kept on the placement of theflowers. She was a woman on a mission, as she was during every service. Shewanted to ensure that everything was perfect, that nothing fell out of placeand that the family would be spared even the slightest inconvenience. It waswhat she was here for. If it was within her power, she would make it so theywould not face any further heartache.

Whenat last she was content with the arrangements she replied.

"Of course not. What is a child to do without their parents."

"Please don't worry about it, just try to get better? We can have lunch onSunday or something... Okay!... call me later?... okay. Bye." MonicaRoberts hung the phone back on the receiver and sighed deeply.

"Who was that?" Jerome Hunter inquired having just stepped out from thebathroom making his way to the receptionist's desk window. Jerome was St.Sebastian's resident embalmer. He was a stout and hefty man always dressed inan assortment of colored scrubs. He was the staff's resident big brother.

"It was Claudia. She caught a stomach flu or something. She'll be out for theday. She's gonna miss the baby shower."

"No kidding? Barney's been out since last week with the stomach flu too. Guessit's that time of year."

"I'm a little disappointed but it can't be helped." She pushed herself upout from behind the desk using the counter to carefully pull herself up. Shelet out a small groan, almost losing her balance as her protruding belly camedipping forward.

"You, okay?" Jerome asked concerningly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, she just gave a little kick is all. This one is just wantingout sooner than later." She chuckled a bit, winded she made her way overto the copy machine.

"How's Alex been? Hope he's taking care of you. You should really be taking iteasy." He urged playfully but with genuine concern.

"Alex has been amazing. Really. He's been cooking dinner every night these lastcouple weeks. He even massages my feet every night before bed." Shefinished scanning some forms and headed back over to the receptionist desk.

"Good man," Jerome said satisfied.

Thefront door swung open and in came Mickey Newbury adjusting his necktievigorously, looking a bit out of sorts. The newest hire; a young man aroundtwenty-three years of age, with still no grasp on the importance ofpunctuality in the workplace. He had only been there a total of two weeks andhad made a habit of coming in an hour late or more. Perhaps the fact that hisgrandfather Jedediah Newbury was the chief director of their branch made himfeel he'd have some leeway.

"Morning Monica, Jerome!" He said almost out of breath as he rushed pastthem in an effort to clock in on time.

"Run kid run!" Jerome shouted with laughter.

"I heard Jed had a talk with him about his tardiness." Monica said in ahushed voice.

"Well about damn time, kids just started, and he's been late pretty much everyday since."

Rosaand Missy entered the lobby.

"Has Mickey come in yet? We need his help moving the chapel piano." Rosaasked Monica noticeably annoyed at his absence.

"He just walked in." She said with a shrug and a nervous laugh.

Rosasighed and rolled her eyes. Mickey was the last of the funeral attendants, Rosahad been weary about Jed's decision to add hisgrandson to their team for this very reason. She thought he was a nice boy, butlacked the maturity to follow through with his responsibilities which would inturn leave herself and Missy to pick up the slack.

"Ladies...-and Jerome, Good-morning!" It was Jedediah Newbury, the chiefdirector. " Happy Friday! Who's ready for the weekend?" His long andlanky limbs seeming to enter the building before the rest of him.

"Morning Jed," Jerome said in a chipper tone.

"Will you and your wife still be attending my shower, Jed?" Monica askedelatedly.

"Of course, how can I pass up a chance at a plate of your famous barbocoa."He winked at her, giving the air a gentle nudge.

Heturned his head. " Rosa and Missy, looking as lovely always ladies. Howare the preparations coming along?"

Therewas a brief silence. Rosa turned a glance at Missy as if quietly urging her toanswer the question. Jed made it a habit of playfully flirting with all thewoman in the office. Admittedly it made many of them a bit uncomfortable nonemore-so than Rosa.

Missyunderstood the signal.

"They're coming along nicely Mr. Newbury, " Missy replied eagerly.

"Splendid. And how has Mickey been doing?" Jed prompted with a raised brow.

Therewas another awkward silence.

"That boy, I'm really gonna have to have a stern talk with him." He saidplacing his hands on his waist, twitching his white mustached lip from side toside.

"Well, so long as all the preparations have been made..." his words trailedoff... Monica send out a reminder email about today's sales meeting at11am."

"Yes, of course." She replied slowly making her way back over to her seat.

"Perfect. See you all at 11am!" He turned and walked down the hall towardhis office. There was a slight hitch in his step. Possibly his arthritis actingup as it frequently did at the start of the day.

Thehour was nearing closer until the service would begin. Kris, Jerome and Mickeywere tasked to help transport the casket containing the remains into thechapel. They rolled it up the main walkway and up towards the chancel.

Kriswas not looking well, his face pale white and clammy, he seemed to be sweatingthrough his dress shirt. As they pushed the casket up the two steps which ledto the chancel, he let out a groan.

"You're not looking too good there Kris." Jerome stated with concern in hisvoice. " You sure you're up for this?"

"Yeah, I'm fine just feeling a little hot is all." He said slipping out ofhis sports coat and lobbing it on top of the near by podium. His shirt wascompletely drenched.

"Woah, no kidding," Mickey said louder than he had intended.

"I just need to sit for a minute." They stopped with the casket halfway upthe steps when Kris had decided to lurch over to a nearby pew and slump overwith his head tucked between his knees.

Rosahad been watching them from a distance and noticed Kris had come in seeming abit off that morning. He had looked deathly ill. When she had asked him if hewas feeling well, he had simply told her he had had some bad ceviche theprevious night.

Shecame walking over with a cup of water. " Here Kristopher drinkthis." He grabbed hold of the tiny paper cup with two tremblinghands and started to take small sips.

"Uh, I think the family is pulling up." Mickey said anxiously peering outof the glass doors.

"Mickey and Jerome, finish placing the casket. I'll help Kris to his desk forhis dry clothes. Missy please tend to thefamily." She helped Kris to his feet and out of the chapel.

Jeromeand Mickey managed to position the casket right as the family walked in throughthe doors when he recalled their request for an open casket. He turned back andbegan to lift the lid, when halfway through he realized this would be his firstopen casket service. Under prepared for what he was about to witness he bracedhimself as best he could.

Therelay the small, frail looking woman with her eyes shut. Her lips and cheeks a rosy,red, with a stark powder- white face, a scarlet-colored band carefully placedatop her silver hair. She looked to be sleeping soundly, appearing as if theslightest noise would wake her. He carefully pushed the lid outward until thehinges caught hold, catching a glimpse of a purple sequin top, adorned with whitegold buttons which ran down the front. He unintentionally jerked back andstarted walking down the aisle towards Jerome who stood on the opposite side ofthe room.

Missygreeted the family and gave her condolences as other attendees had begun togather outside the chapel entrance.

Mickeyhad made his way over to the other side of the chapel and stood near Jerome. Heleaned in close.

"Dead bodies give me the creeps."