- Thread intercept from fargo007,
"Bro , Things aren't looking so good....”
Ron Minatori, A good friend of mine works at a funeral home on Street Rd. He bet me a thousand dollars that he had something come in that would absolutely freak me out. I got calls like this perhaps once a year, and some were worth the trip. Others were not. He knew I spent the last 20 years in law enforcement, so this had better be good, I sez, as I braved the forty fucking traffic lights it takes to go the ¼ mile up that atrocious road. Worse than usual? Oh yeah. I saw a crowd of people gathered around the cemetery, and block after block of their parked cars along the road. What, did a celebrity die? People were in shorts & tee shirts though. This county has always been a bizarre mix of people ever since I moved here.
Pulling up the emergency brake on my truck in the back lot of the funeral home, I was greeted by the unusual sight of Minatori trying to light a cigarette that was literally bouncing up and down in his quivering, but tightly clenched lips. I had never seen the man smoke. After prying the lighter from his sweaty hands, and lighting the cigarette on his behalf, he looked at me, while the unfamiliar acrid smoke caused him to reflexively cough directly in my face.
“I ain't goin' back in there.”
“Ron – what the hell is going on?”
He threw the cigarette down, and as he continued to speak, repeatedly ground and stomped it to oblivion.
“Pickup from the hospital. 30 year old male. Car accident.” His short, choppy answers told me the real Minatori was in there.
“Tore up pretty bad. They finished the autopsy this morning. Massive internal injuries.”
Sure that this wasn't the issue, I pressed further. “So? Something you can't handle?”
I went to push the unlocked door open and look inside. I knew this was the “operational area” of the funeral home. I felt his hand dig into my shoulder with force I had no idea he could muster.
“Watch it. Just watch it, Understand???”
I entered the receiving area, where a body lay on a transport gurney. It had lost its legs above or around both knees, and the condition of the rest of it was not so good. A Y-shaped autopsy scar with coarse stiches the length of the torso. The organs are usually placed in a plastic bag, and sewn back into the torso, and I could spot pieces of the orange bag through rough gaps in the stitches.
A terrible sight, but nevertheless, I approached it. I could feel Minatori approach behind and to my left as I looked at the side of the young man's head, which appeared undamaged, and at least that much of him appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
“Stay back, you dumb-ass!”
I turned back to Minatori to reply with a clever insult of my own, the particulars of which I choose not to share. Looking back at the body, the head was now facing me, and both eyes were open, and directly fixed upon my own.
- End of thread.
I might call off a few more days, and that wood burning smell has gotten stronger into the night. I peaked outside to check if I could see any smoke on the horizon, but it is way to dark to see anything with clarity.
God I wish I had a pair of night vision goggles right now. Currently it seems worth the couple thousand dollars to be honest.
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