The Cool Room by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 63

Over the next week, Jonathan began to hear strange sounds emanating from the cellar. At first, he thought it was Frank inspecting new shipments of caskets – opening crates and sliding them into place for storage. There was an advantage to working in the cool room. He could work in silence. Sometimes he played Bach at a low volume as he prepared the dead but most of the time he preferred a quiet environment. This, of course, allowed him to hear nearly anything. It could be a mouse trying to claw its way through a wall on the far side of the house or a small bird pecking at a beam in the attic. If it made a noise he could usually hear it. But this week, his senses were plagued by a different sound. It was usually in the morning when he heard faint voices echoing from the basement. He knew Frank had been under a great deal of stress since Emily’s departure and thought he may simply be talking to himself. Ordinarily, Jonathan saw this activity as a healthy way of working through one’s problems, bouncing ideas and solutions around. He quickly learned to ignore it until he heard a second, distinctive voice. Pausing in his work, he went to Frank’s office and found him at his desk running the monthly spreadsheet. Now, he was puzzled. If Frank was in his office, who was in the cellar? “Frank,” he said.

Frank maintained his gaze on the display as he continued to busy himself with the month’s finances.

“Jonathan,” he replied. “What is it?” His voice was guarded and indifferent; his mood tense and cold.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Is there someone in the cellar?”

Frank was quick to find an explanation. A believable lie was all he needed – something that might happen on a regular basis.

“Oh,” Frank answered. “I thought I told you. There’s a problem with the furnace. I had some technicians come in to take a look at it.” With a cremation having been done just last week, Jonathan was unaware there had been anything wrong with it. Perhaps it was simply a maintenance issue. According to state law, it had to undergo a maintenance check every so often so Jonathan assumed that it was time for it to be checked. “So,” he said. “How long does this usually take?” Frank quickly grew frustrated at Jonathan’s continued questions and snapped at him. “Jonathan,” he said. “It’s none of your damn business. Now, get back to work.” During the several years he had worked with Frank he had never seen him in such a state and wondered if something else might be taking place.

Without a word, Jonathan left Frank’s office and walking back to the cool room slammed the door shut and proceeded with his work. After a few moments, he decided he was too angry to continue with such meticulous work and pulling up a stool sat, waiting for his emotions to subside. He didn’t know what to make of Frank’s odd behavior but decided it would be best to stay out of his way -- at least, for now.

The next few days brought the usual work. But when it came to conducting services, Frank was largely absent. This only added to Jonathan’s workload. Between this and the continued work in the cellar, Jonathan’s stress was beginning to mount. He was beginning to think there was something else going on, as a maintenance check on a furnace normally didn’t take this long. Two weeks later, the work was still underway and with the voices having grown louder, Jonathan was at his breaking point. Again, he marched to Frank’s office and, without knocking, walked in and demanded to know what was going on in the cellar.

“This has been going on for at least two or three weeks. A furnace check should only take a day. So, what the hell’s going on? Do I have to go down there myself?”

Standing up behind from behind his desk, Frank became livid forbidding Jonathan from entering the cellar.

“You are never to go down there!” he yelled. “There’s nothing going on in the cellar that had anything to do with you, got it?! Now, get your ass back in that room and do your job!” Jonathan was stunned and lacking for a response stormed out of Frank’s office and back to the cool room where their newest client still waited. Moving the stool over next to the preparation table he raised his elbows to its edge and opening his hands laid his forehead in them. He wasn’t sure what was happening but felt driven by Frank’s words when told to stay out of the cellar. He had been down there so many times cremating remains of the deceased. Now, he wondered if he would be allowed to provide that service to the families who requested it. It was important that he perform this last gift to the families of those whose last wishes outlined such a process. In spite of Frank’s demand, Jonathan would continue to perform this procedure.