Page 5 of Crown of Death

“A monster, that’s who,” Emmanuel says as he gently dresses her in the clothing the familyprovided.

I shake my head. Someone capable of this level of violence doesn’t deserve to be called human,anymore.

It takes the entire day, but by the time dinner rolls around, Miss Carolina Jex looks ready. Her face looks somewhat fake, worked over with so many layers of makeup. But she doesn’t look like a chopped-up cadaver. I think the family will be able to get what they need from this open casketfuneral.

“You did good, Logan,” Emmanuel says as we take our gloves off and wash death down the drain. “I’ll call in Craig and Katie to help with the service. You’ve put in more than enough hours thisweek.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, rolling my head from one side to the other, trying to stretch out the kinks and knots that have formed throughout theday.

Emmanuel nods, and I place a hand on his forearm. “Thanks. You’re a good man,Em.”

He offers a thin little smile and nods. “Get some rest, Logan. I’ll finish uphere.”

I look once more at Carolina, now resting peacefully in the casket. “Goodnight.”

Some days this feels like any other job. I forget that my work is based upon when people die. To me it’s no different than a waiter at a restaurant, or aschoolteacher.

But there are days like today, when I walk out into the bright, sunny day, absolutely disoriented and dazed that the sun could possibly be shining, that I amreminded.

We all die eventually. Everyone’s paths to get to that gate are entirelydifferent.

I pray that my arrival will bepeaceful.

But, considering my luck, there’s not achance.

Just as I sink into the driver’s seat of my car, my phone vibrates. I look down to see a text from my little brother,Eshan.

Mom is making tortellini. Eli just got here. Wannajoin?

I keep staring at my phone. Really I just want to curl up in my too-small bathtub, turn off the lights, and not think about anything until the water goescold.

But it’s Eshan, and Eli, and my parents who I haven’t called or seen in threeweeks.

So with exhausted fingers, I text my brother back.Be there intwenty.

The traffic is moderate as I work my way from one town to another. I don’t cut through the city, which would be awful this time of day, but take the longer route around the outskirts. Past businesses and homes. Through thenormal.

Regular life rolls on no matter how horrible things might have been around them. Oblivious and blessed forit.

I turn onto my old street and roll past Eli’s old house. And then there’s my parents’ red brick house. I park along the curb behind Eli’s black car and walk up to thedoor.

Everyone’s laughter hits my ears as I walk inside. The front room is calm and put together, as always. I walk past the stairs and into the diningroom.

Eli sits at the table with Eshan and my father wheels around the kitchen, attempting to help my mother with dinner in thekitchen.

“Hey, sweetie,” Mom says with a warm smile when I plop down at the table next to Eli. “Dinner will be done in just aminute.”

I smile, though I can tell it doesn’t reach myeyes.

“You smell like dead people,” Eshan says, a little devil’s look in his eyes as hesmiles.

This is normally our thing. Teasing each other. Getting on each other’s backs abouteverything.

But I just don’t have it in metoday.

So I don’t say anything. I just look away, watching my parents without really seeingthem.

“Are you alright?” Eliasks.