Page 9 of The Last One to Let You Down

“Yessir.”

“Nothing about the manner of his death is suspicious?”

“Nossir.”

“Well, Officer, forgive me for asking, but then why are you there?”

“Right.” Officer Fester laughed. “Because the mama, Mrs. Dresser, she attacked the hospice nurse when she pronounced. Mr. Dresser, the father, not the dead kid, he’s trying to keep her all locked up in the bedroom until you get here. We need you guys to come pick up the body as soon as possible.”

Tom grimaced at the officer’s casual attitude, but he was used to it. Not everyone had a lot of empathy when deaths occurred, no matter how tragic. He knew it was a common defense mechanism, but he also thought some people were just jerks.

He took down the address and other pertinent information such as the deceased’s weight, and he promised they’d arrive within the hour.

After he’d hung up, he turned to Miss Wheel. “Home death, under hospice, first floor, no steps. Family has been combative, that’s why the cops are there.” He handed her the complete first call form.

“Oh, thank you, Tom!” Miss Wheel gushed. “Thank you. I’ll get the paperwork ready right away.”

“Want me to go find Scott and Bosco? They’re working today, right?”

“Well, Scott is out on a call at the hospital. Bosco’s here somewhere, though.”

“Okay,” Tom said, standing up to give Miss Wheel her desk back. “If you’ll get the paperwork ready, I’ll go find Bosco.”

Scott and Bosco were two of their removal technicians. Their primary job was to help pick up the deceased, and they also assisted with dressing and casketing as well. They weren’t licensed, so they didn’t meet with families or embalm, but they were an integral part of the funeral home staff.

“You don’t wanna wait until Scott gets back?” Miss Wheel asked politely.

It was well known that Tom didn’t like making removals. He was much happier being in the prep room, but this was still part of his job when the need arose.

“I’m already in a suit, and there’s no sense in keeping the family waiting,” Tom said with a strained smile. “Aaron was about to go to lunch anyway. I’m gonna go find Bosco.”

Outside smoking by the garage bay doors was where Tom finally tracked him down, calling out, “First call.”

“What is it?” Bosco was a giant, by far the biggest man Tom had ever met in his entire life. He absolutely filled a door frame, and he had to duck to pass through without hitting his head. He had a crooked face and a deep, rumbling voice.

“Twenty-two-year-old male, hospice, home removal, no stairs,” Tom rattled off. He knew Bosco would only want minimum details.

“Weight?”

“Not too little, not too big,” Tom replied, echoing what the officer had unhelpfully told him. “He’s on the first floor in a hospital bed.”

“Okay,” Bosco said, flicking his cigarette butt out into the parking lot. “You got the paperwork?”

“Miss Wheel is putting it together.”

“You get that, I’ll get the keys to the van. Meet me back here in ten?”

“Sounds good.”

Two people always went on a home removal. There were too many potential obstacles for one person to perform safely, unlike picking a deceased up from a hospital morgue or the medical examiner’s office that only needed one. They used small minivans to do their pickups, ones specially modified with a tray in the back for the stretchers to load into.

After Tom got the paperwork from Miss Wheel, he joined Bosco in the van to get going. They plugged the address into the GPS, and Bosco began to drive. He wasn’t a big talker, never had been, but Tom knew Bosco would take the lead talking to the family when they got there.

Bosco had been doing removals for years, and he had such a gentle touch with grieving people. His mother was from Mexico, and he spoke fluent Spanish, which was also a huge help when they were dealing with Hispanic families. Being the size of a small house made moving even the largest deceased people a breeze. Despite his wealth of experience, Tom still wanted to give him a head’s up.

“Cops are there,” Tom cautioned.

“Thought you said it was hospice.”