A Penny Down the Well: A Short Story Collection of Horrifying Events by J. A. Crook

around her early fifties, with blonde hair amassed
with an invading gray styled in a fashion that had been out for a
decade, greeted him.
    “ Oh, you must be Clint! So
good to meet you. We spoke yesterday morning. I’m Marie, and I’m
the manager of the home here.” And she looked him over. “You look
fantastic.” While extending her hand.
    Clint accepted her hand
with a light shake and smiled to the complement. “Thanks. I was
hoping it’d be appropriate. Good to meet you face to
face.”
    “ Yes, it’s appropriate.
Now, I bet you’re interested in knowing what you have to do and
what you can expect to be paid for each job?” She smiled, nodding
as she spoke.
    Clint nodded himself.
“Right now, Miss, I think just about anything would do.” After the
recent purchases and withdrawals from his meager savings, he needed
the cash.
    “ We promise to make it
worthwhile, Clint. Have a seat and let me explain to you how this
is all going to work.” Marie sat herself and began the crash-course
in being a hearse driver for a funeral procession, his first of
which would be today.
    Marie explained that
typically hearse drivers were responsible for non-procession
duties, to include placing caskets in the parlor of the funeral
home, obtaining burial permits, and so forth, but she had no intent
in making Clint responsible for all of those things. Instead, she
explained the speeds he should be going while escorting the casket
from the funeral home to the destination of the funeral and burial
site as well as the funeral procession arrangement of vehicles.
What Clint was to remember was that he’d be the second vehicle in
the motorcade, behind a lead vehicle. Clint was relieved to hear he
wasn’t first. He’d hate to have gone off in the wrong direction
while leading a motorcade of highly emotional people. She mentioned
flags that indicated a funeral procession being draped over
specific vehicles, but not on his own. Most importantly, she said
the vehicle needed to remain clean and waxed before attending any
funeral and that he would be responsible for the vehicle since he
was being contracted. Clint understood and agreed to the terms
before being presented with a written contract. Clint took a deep
breath, signed the document and rose from his seat.
    “ Alright. So, what do I do
from here?” Clint asked, adjusting his suit after having sat in it
for a while.
    “ I’ll take you to meet
your client.” Marie said with a smile, moving around him with a set
of keys for the office. She waited outside of the door,
then.
    Clint’s eyes went wide. He
knew what the job entailed, but for some reason actually having to
see the dead person (if that’s who she was talking about) was a bit
overwhelming. He tried to remain as comfortable as he could and
went on out the door behind Marie. She closed the office and
escorted him to the parlor, where the casket was held.
    The casket bore an
American flag draped over it. The pictures in the parlor of the
deceased had been taken down, but the stands where they once were
still remained. Candles burnt on small sconces (an archaic lighting
that Clint couldn’t help but stare at for some time), flickering
and casting wraith-like shadows through the room, each one evoking
dangerous superstition in Clint’s mind. For a moment, he
wondered “I wonder which of these
wall-devils are leaving with the grand prize of this fellow’s
soul?” But, it was a fleeting thought,
brought on only by the influence of horror films and his exposure
to the beliefs of others. In this moment, the best thing he could
do was remain completely unaffected by such thoughts. If there was
reverence to be felt for anything, it was the honor of this human
being, dead now, but indeed a human being.
    Clint was unsure how close
to bring himself to the casket, fearing that moving too near to it
might have been considered disrespectful, but he could not help
catching a glimpse of a bright reflection of something on top of
the