So Festy! Read online

  A door creaks open.

  ‘Where do you want it?’ asks the voice, followed by a loud thump. ‘Heart attack,’ it adds. ‘Early this morning.’

  ‘Not there.’ It is the woman from last night. ‘I don’t have time, now. In here.’

  Lenny hears the jangle of keys. The jangle sounds close. Before he knows what’s happening his drawer starts to move, then jolts to a stop.

  ‘Oh!’ exclaims the woman. ‘I don’t remember this one.’ She grabs at the tag still attached to Lenny’s big toe. Slowly she reads, ‘John Deer.’

  ‘Hmph!’ snorts the man, then he laughs as he adds. ‘Any relation to John Doe?’*

  ‘Bad joke!’ says the woman.

  Lenny can’t believe his luck when his drawer glides back in.

  ‘We’re off!’ calls the delivery man. A door slams and footsteps muffle, then die.

  Suddenly, from somewhere far away, Max can hear singing. He strains to listen, then smiles into the darkness.

  ‘Doe, a deer…’ It is Lenny. ‘A fe-male deer. Ray, a drop of golden su-u-un!’

  The boys hear a loud exclamation.

  ‘Me, a name I call myself…’

  The woman tsk-tsks, then says to herself, ‘Must’ve left my car radio on.’ Footsteps clip as they go down the hall, then fade, Lenny’s cue for action. Quickly he pushes his drawer out and leaps off the cold metal slab, reaching for the keys at the same time. He creaks with cramp.

  ‘Quick!’ calls Max. ‘I’m freezing my nuts off in here!’

  Lenny fumbles with the keys, his icy fingers refusing to work. At last he is able to free Max.

  The boys race to the doorway and peer down the corridor. Spying a bathroom door they sneak inside to wait for the woman’s return. Only when the footsteps swell, then fade, and they hear a door shutting again do the boys make their escape.

  ‘I can’t believe we spent the night in a morgue!’ says Max as they creep away.

  ‘Just call us…The Living Dead,’ answers Lenny, lurching about with his arms extended. He is not surprised when Max punches him. Suddenly, Lenny stops. His eyes widen and his mouth hangs open as he stares down. ‘Omigod!’ he gasps, then turns to Max saying, ‘Omigod,’ over and over again.

  Chapter Three

  ‘What?’ Max asks Lenny. ‘You look like you’ve lost you’re best friend—me!’

  ‘Worse than that. I’ve lost my shoes! They’re still in there.’

  ‘So?’ says Max. ‘Leave ’em.’

  Lenny slams his fist in his palm. ‘They’re my school shoes! And they’ve got my name on them. I have to get them back.’

  ‘I guess,’ says Max, not being very sympathetic.

  Lenny checks out his watch. ‘Shoot! We’re gonna be late for footie. No time to go back for them, now. We’ll have to come back later.’

  ‘We?’ Max takes a step back, shaking his head. ‘No way! I’m never going in there again.’

  Lenny rolls his eyes. ‘You’ll be going back there one day.’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ says Max.

  Lenny gives a familiar snort. ‘Exactly!’ he says and he starts striding away, calling over his shoulder, ‘And I thought you were my friend.’

  Max races to catch up with him. ‘How would we search the place?’ he asks. ‘After last time they’re going to be suspicious.’

  He’s in! Lenny’s lips twitch into a grin. ‘We don’t have to search,’ he explains. ‘We just have to go and ask about missing shoes. Pretend someone we know lost some.’

  ‘Someone alive or dead?’ asks Max in all seriousness.

  Lenny groans. ‘How can someone dead lose something?’

  Max shrugs in apology. ‘Good point.’

  ‘How ’bout this arvo?’ asks Lenny. ‘After the game.’

  Max pauses, then shakes his head. ‘I promised Lianne I’d watch her at netball.’

  ‘How ’bout tomorrow?’ asks Lenny unable to keep the pleading note out of his voice.

  ‘No good,’ says Max. ‘We’re going up to visit my grandparents.’

  Lenny stares back in the direction of the morgue. His brow is so furrowed it could hide a colony of ants. ‘Monday, then? We’ll have to wag. Say we missed the school bus.’

  ‘They’ll never believe us.’

  ‘What about—we slept in. Thought it was Sunday and didn’t put the alarm on?’

  Max shakes his head.

  ‘We had to deliver the cat’s kittens, then?’

  Max laughs. ‘Pretty lame.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ says Lenny. ‘We’ll think of something.’

  ‘Lenny!’ It is Monday morning. The voice gets more insistent. ‘Lenny!’

  ‘What?’ asks Lenny, catapulting to a sitting position and staring bleary-eyed at the clock.

  ‘You slept like the dead.’ A jolt goes through Lenny. Mum?! His ears prick, waiting for her to continue. Does she know something?

  ‘You’ve got to get ready for school. It’s uniform inspection day.’

  ‘Shoot!’ says Lenny, scrambling into his school uniform and throwing his books in his bag, then scoffing down some toast. Lenny looks at his watch. One minute and forty-seven seconds. A new record! Lenny pats his bag as he slings it over his shoulders, making sure that the bulge of clothes is still there. He’s agreed to meet Max at nine o’clock at the park and get changed in the toilets.

  ‘Stop!’ calls his mum as he heads out.

  Lenny hovers in the doorway, his eyebrows raised. He takes a deep breath and waits.

  ‘Why are you wearing runners?’

  The air swizzles from Lenny’s mouth. She would have to notice! ‘’Cause,’ he says.

  ‘’Cause why?’

  ‘’Cause I don’t want to get my school shoes dirty before I get to school,’ says Lenny. ‘Chill out, Mum.’ And with that he bolts down the path to the gate thinking, Phew. That was close.

  Later that morning Lenny and Max catch another bus to the morgue. ‘I don’t feel too good about this!’ groans Max as he pays his fare.

  ‘You!’ snaps Lenny. ‘I’m the one heading for the detention centre.’

  Max looks glum. ‘That’s you ’n me, double.’

  Sitting on the bus, dressed in black, serious black, the two boys look like any other mourner on their way to a morgue. Max has on the black shirt and trousers he uses for Band. Lenny is wearing long black shorts that almost reach his ankles, a black beanie and a black T-shirt. The fact that the T-shirt says, The Grateful Dead, is a bonus.

  Glancing at his mate, Lenny starts to hum. ‘Dum, dum, da, dummm, dah-h-h, da-da, da-da, da, dummmm.’

  A woman sitting opposite sucks in her false teeth.

  Max takes it up. ‘Dum, dum, da, dummmm, dah-h-h, da-da, da-da, da, dummmm.’

  The woman sucks in her teeth and her lips, too.

  ‘Ashes to ashes,’ begins Lenny, in a voice as low as it can go.

  ‘And dust to dust,’ finishes Max.

  Lips and teeth are being chewed.

  ‘Dearly beloved…’ starts Lenny.

  ‘We are gathered here today…’

  The woman gets to her feet, preparing to move to the back of the bus.

  ‘To farewell our dear, um, Winifred.’

  Max chokes on a laugh. ‘Who’s Winifred?’ he whispers.

  Lenny ignores him. ‘Winifred has shrugged off her mortal coil and will be deeply missed. It is with great sorrow that we prepare her to meet her maker.’

  Max joins in. ‘And travel to the After World.’

  ‘May she find Eternal Peace in that great…’ Lenny pulls out a tissue and gives his nose a good blow before he explodes, ‘…bird cage in the sky!’

  Max laughs so hard he falls off his seat. The woman looks like she has swallowed her dentures! She can’t get away quick enough.

  ‘What do you call a dead parrot?’ Lenny calls to her departing back. ‘A polygon!’

  Chapter Four

  By the time they get to their destination the boys have the entire
front of the bus to themselves. The back of the bus is crowded. The boys alight, to quiet cheering.

  ‘Weirdos!’ calls the old woman.

  ‘Delinquents!’ calls another.

  The boys ignore them. By daylight the building looks different, more tatty, less imposing. Someone has added a stroke and crossed out the ‘u’, so that ‘Morgue’ has become ‘Marge’, giving it a feminine touch.

  ‘Come on,’ says Lenny, grabbing Max by the arm. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

  Lenny marches Max through the front door and up to a counter. It is unattended. Lenny reaches out and pushes a buzzer. The sharp bleep makes him jump. He tugs his beanie on tighter, his eyes wide, then shoves his hands in his pockets. It is the only way to stop them from shaking.

  Max starts to shiver.

  Lenny glances around the stark waiting area. The walls are blank, except for one black and white sketch of a setting sun. Lenny wonders if it’s meant to mean anything. ‘Could do with something to brighten the place up,’ he says to Max. ‘Like a big neon sign.’

  Max bites his lip. ‘Saying what?’

  ‘I dunno.’ Then Lenny grins. He gestures at the wall above the counter. ‘Eternity, maybe?’

  Just then a woman enters. She is small but stocky, with grey-blonde hair pulled into a bun. She smells like yesterday’s onions. ‘Yes?’ she asks. ‘Can I help you?’

  The voice! Lenny turns to Max. Max is standing rooted to the spot, the occasional blink the only sign that he is not a dummy.

  ‘H-hi!’ begins Lenny.

  ‘Come to pay your respects?’ asks the woman, crossing her arms and arching her head so that a bobby pin springs from her bun.

  Max’s eyes sweep the floor, but still he remains frozen.

  ‘Yes,’ says Lenny. ‘Er, no. I mean, yes!’

  The woman frowns. ‘Who are you here for?’

  Lenny blinks, then joins Max in saying nothing.

  The woman tries again. ‘Was it a viewing you wanted?’

  Lenny clears his throat. ‘A viewing?’ he echoes.

  ‘Or a visit?’

  ‘We’re already visiting, aren’t we?’ asks Lenny.

  The woman does not laugh. ‘That depends,’ she says. ‘On whether your loved one has been reconstructed or not. If they’re not reconstructed it’s a viewing. If they are, a visit.’

  Lenny looks at Max, begging for help.

  Max is getting more and more pale, his skin blending with the off-white walls.

  ‘Why, um, would our loved one, um, be reconstructed?’ asks Lenny.

  The woman leans closer and lowers her voice. ‘Was there an autopsy?’ she tries again.

  Lenny splutters. ‘An autopsy?’ The woman leans closer, her smile sweet. Saccharine sweet, thinks Lenny.

  ‘An autopsy is where we cut you up!’ she says through gathered lips. Her hands slice the air. ‘Into a trillion pieces.’

  At this Max faints.

  Dead as a dodo, thinks Lenny, looking at the spread-eagled body of his friend.

  ‘There’s a cooler over there,’ barks the woman, all sweetness gone from her lips. ‘When your mate recovers, you can get the hell out. I’ve had it with jokers like you, wasting my time.’ And with a dismissive flick of the hands she heads for a door.

  ‘Wait!’ calls Lenny.

  The woman stops and turns her head, her body poised to exit.

  ‘We have come for a purpose,’ says Lenny, gulping down panic. ‘We do have a reason for being here. But it’s not what you think.’

  ‘No?’ The woman’s eyes narrow as she sucks in her breath. ‘Reckon I’ve heard ’em all.’

  ‘We have come for a visit.’ Lenny smiles, but with effort—like every muscle is paralysed. ‘There’s something we need returned.’

  ‘Knew it!’ Slowly the woman turns around. ‘Personal effects are returned to family members only,’ she says through clenched teeth.

  At this point Max groans and gets to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. ‘Ouch,’ he cries. ‘What happened?’

  Lenny gives him a reassuring hug making, sh, sh, noises under his breath.

  ‘Unless of course the personal effects are to remain with the deceased.’

  ‘By personal effects—do you mean stuff like, um, shoes?’ asks Lenny.

  The woman frowns, then snaps, ‘Our clientele don’t wear shoes!’

  Lenny thinks of the tags tied to bare toes. Of course they don’t wear shoes!

  ‘They do that at the parlour.’

  ‘Stupid me,’ says Lenny, shrugging apologetically.

  ‘Be off with you,’ says the woman. ‘You’ve wasted enough of my time. I’ve got bodies to attend to.’ And with that she leaves.

  ‘We’re never going to get your school shoes back,’ says Max as they stand out the front, eyeing off the building.

  ‘We got in once,’ answers Lenny. ‘We can do it again.’

  ‘But how?’ asks Max. ‘That window’s shut tight.’

  Lenny grins. ‘I know. Saw it on Police Patrol. We get some tape, see, and clog the door lock. She leaves, pulls it shut. The door closes but doesn’t lock. We’re in!’

  Max shakes his head. ‘No way am I breaking in there at night, never again.’

  ‘C’mon,’ urges Lenny. ‘Last time, promise.’

  ‘No way,’ says Max, storming off in a huff. ‘I’ve had enough of sleeping in a freezer! If you want me, you’ll find me at home.’

  He means it, thinks Lenny, deciding to let him go.

  An hour later Lenny is still hiding in the shadows, watching the Arrivals dock. He wonders if he can sneak in with the next delivery. As another van pulls up and the men set up the trolley he gets an idea. Lurching from his hiding place he races up to the men, calling. ‘Help! Thief! Help!’ He runs part-way down the lane. ‘Quick! They went down here.’ The men give chase. Lenny ducks into a doorway tucked away in the shadows and as the men dash past he congratulates himself.

  Quickly, he races back. Grabbing a fresh body bag he struggles into it, then lies on the trolley, using his fingers like pincers to ease the zip up.

  Lenny! Play Dead!

  Before long the men return.

  ‘Funny,’ says a man. ‘Thought we’d left this one inside the van.’

  A guffaw follows. ‘Whaddya think? He climbed on by himself?’ The guffaw breaks into a roar as the man pats the plastic.

  Deep in the body bag, Lenny makes himself as still as possible.

  ‘Already stiffening up,’ grunts the man as he grabs Lenny and tries to reposition him on the trolley. The man’s fingers dig into Lenny’s thigh.

  Dead leg! thinks Lenny, wanting to pull away but he does not dare.

  Chapter Five

  Lenny can tell that they are wheeling him down the corridor.

  And now we’ll stop, he thinks to himself.

  Right on cue the trolley stops.

  And go through a door…

  Crea-a-ak! Slam!

  A bell rings. They wait. A bell rings again.

  ‘Must be at tea,’ says the man. ‘We’ll just have to leave it.’

  They lift Lenny and plonk him onto the autopsy table. A grunt escapes. Lenny is horrified, terrified. Mortified!

  ‘What?’ asks a voice, hesitant. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ says the other man. ‘Sometimes a pocket of air in the lungs dislodges.’

  ‘Oh,’ comes the reply. ‘Bear with me. I’m new at this.’

  With a grin, Lenny makes another Oooofph!

  ‘Sounds like the poor bugger’s still alive,’ says the man, his voice shaky as he takes a step back.

  The other man drops his voice to a conspiratorial tone and says, ‘Sometimes the rigor mortis makes ’em sit up.’

  Lenny cannot resist.

  Bo-i-i-i-ng!

  ‘Aaaaagh!’ cry the men. As one, they flee.

  It’s fun being dead, thinks Lenny. Quickly he climbs out of the body bag and races to the drawers. Locked! Damn.

>   Lenny starts searching for the keys and spies a key rack. Which one? he wonders, grabbing the first set he comes to. The key goes part-way in, then sticks. Lenny turns it this way, that way, but it won’t budge. Won’t even come out! Nerves make Lenny fumble. He glances at his watch, noting the time and wondering how long it is since he last saw Max.

  Finally, the lock releases the key and Lenny tries another. He can hear the thumping of his heart, the ticking of his watch and the tapping of his foot.

  Foot? I’m not tapping my foot! Lenny swings around, his heart crashing in his rib-cage. He gives an enormous shout, ‘You!’ before collapsing against a drawer.

  ‘Whazzup?’ It is Max, grinning like a trussed-up skeleton. He punches Lenny in the arm. ‘You look like death warmed up.’

  Lenny is opening and shutting his mouth, too busy gulping in lungs full of air to answer.

  ‘I decided to come back,’ explains Max. ‘And when those two delivery men took off faster than a cat with a boot up its bum I couldn’t believe my luck. They forgot to lock the door. May as well put out a welcome mat,’ Max adds with a laugh.

  Lenny can’t believe it. ‘I owe you.’ He almost sobs. He points to the key rack. ‘Grab some keys and help me unlock these drawers. My school shoes are in here. Somewhere!’

  Time passes like rocks weathering. Many drawers later Lenny finds the right key to the right drawer. Finally! The door glides open. Lenny reaches in and…‘My shoes!’ He waves them at Max, then points to his name and phone number written in black marker on the lining.

  ‘What?’ says Max with a laugh. ‘No address?’

  Tucking his shoes and socks in his shirt, Lenny looks at the row of drawers and asks, ‘Which one were you in?’

  Max frowns. It was so dark. ‘Not sure,’ he answers.

  Lenny points to a drawer and asks, ‘This one?’

  ‘Maybe,’ says Max. He points to another. ‘Or that one.’

  ‘I’ll try this one and you try that,’ says Lenny. Both boys pull out their drawers at the same time. Max’s seems empty. But Lenny’s is not.