THE LIFE: CHAPTER TWO

                                                                  PRESENT DAY


                    I have to admit, moving back to my home town of Metarie, Louisiana was not the best idea I've ever had, but it wasn't the worst either. A lot had changed, since the last time I was here. It seems there are more people and a larger percentage of death. This just proves to me that people no longer value life. This analogy is what keeps me busy. It keeps me with a steady paycheck. Working the night shift as a Medical examiner, or Coroner, whichever works, has its perks. It's not a dream job for most people, but I'm not like most people. There are not many who enjoy the work they do. For me, it's more than a job. It's a calling.
                    The night had been slow. I guess everyone was still enjoying the Mardi Gras parade, which has never been my scene. I enjoy places that are quiet, not cramped and crowded. I guess my job is my sanctuary. A slow night is boring, and when I get bored I eat. It wasn't my lunch time, but no one was going to rat me out for misusing company time. My assistant, Delores, called in due to an illness, so I was alone. No one else down here but the dead, and they weren't talking. Just as I was about to indulged myself, the phone rang. I rolled my eyes in frustration, walked over to the wall mounted phone, picked it up.

"Dawson City Morgue. You bag 'em, we tag 'em."

"Astrid, I thought I told you not to answer the phone in such a manner."

My boss was as dry as the Sahara Desert. No sense of humor at all.
"Yes, ma'am, you did. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." I was lying and she knew it.

"Time out for games, Astrid. We are running a business not a comedy show."

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, ignored her comment, waited for her to get to the point of this call.  I could hear her take in a deep breath and sigh. I held my laughter. She made it too east to get under her skin.  "Back to the matter at hand. I need you and Delores to work a double shift tonight."

"A dou......

" I know it's a lot to ask, " she interrupted, "but we have a crisis situation."

"What kind of crisis? Did Mr. Finch take his vodka and Viagra this morning with his heart medication?"
This was a joke no one seemed to think funny except for me. When I first moved back to Metarie, I worked the night shift in the ER. One night I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Graham Finch after one of his die hard engagement. He was in the ER at least twice a week. He would always brag about his grandchildren and great grand children and complain about their low life parents. No matter how many times it was explained to him, he did not seem to understand that ninety year old men taking heart medication should not mix Viagra and vodka. I informed him that if he continued to indulge in this life style , old age would not kill him. The woman on top would.

"Astrid! This is exactly the kind of horsing around I'm talking about. If you don't want this job, someone else will be glad to have it!" she shouted

See? Too easy.
"What is the crisis?" I relented. Might as well get this call over with. I'm beginning to get bored, and I'm still hungry.

"To answer your question, no, it is not Mr. Finch. Claytown Morgue is swamped with bodies coming in from the seven vehicle pile-up on the Westbank Expressway. They need our help; therefore, I need all hands on deck."

"Grace, I'm the only one working tonight. Delores called in sick."

"Yeah, right. If she's sick, I'm sick, and I never get sick."

She was right, and it sucked!
"What do you want  me to do?" I asked, knowing the answer to the question. I had my cell phone in my hand dialing Delores' number.

"Call her and tell her if she doesn't get her ass to work in the next hour, she's fired."

"Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, Miss Grace?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yeah", she retorted, "try not to screw anything up. If you do, you can look for another job too." And with that, she hung up the phone.

What Grace didn't understand is that I came here looking for a job, and I'll leave the same way. But, who was I kidding? I knew I was not going anywhere. This is a cushy job. I can do practically anything I want, so why leave?  Without further ado, I called Delores and repeated the message form the boss from hell. When I hung up the phone, I went to the fridge to retrieve my snack. This was going to be a long night.


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                    I was sitting patiently in my leather, black, winged-back chair with my feet resting on my desk, watching the time on my stop watch, as Delores made her way into the morgue.

"Just under an hour." I stated, as I stood to stretch my legs. "You must have ran." I chuckled.

"What is wrong with Grace?" Delores asked, ignoring my comment, taking off her coat, hanging it on the coat rack near the entrance door.  "She's so bitter and no fun at all."

"Well", I started, "she doesn't get payed to be sweet and full of laughter. She gets payed to make your life miserable." I walked over to the autopsy table to make sure everything was in its proper place. I do not know how many are coming, but preparation is always needed. It is Mardi Gras and the ages I normally get range from fifteen to forty-five. People do the most, and the most gets you a free pass to the next chapter in your life. I have been the guest speaker at most of the middle and high schools here, providing useful information to the 'young thug wanna- be's' and the 'This is my body' crowd pleasers . Life is far better than the alternative. Once you cross my path, it is over. There is no coming back from my table. You think the winter is cold? You do not know what cold is until you have the unfortunate opportunity to lay on my table. If you want to live the fast life, if you want to do whatever you want to do, if you think you have something to prove to people who are not who you think they are, my table is waiting for you.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" I asked with a confused look carefully painted across my face.

"You know what I mean. She makes both of us miserable."

"Speak for yourself, " I stated emphatically. "I have other things in my life to make me miserable, and Grace is nowhere on that list."

"Well, I wish I could be as casual about it as you are. Truth is, that woman scares me." Delores was standing next to me now with her hands on her hips, as she bit down on her lower lip. She does that, when she gets irritated. it's funny, and she looks adorable.

"Well, Delores, all I can say is chin up" I smiled at her, as I referenced a line from her favorite childhood book, Charlotte's Web.

"Oh, bite me, Astrid." She was pretending to be annoyed, as she walked to the mini fridge that sat in the corner next to my desk.  "I wish I had magical powers. My life would be much better and a lot more interesting." She grabbed a drink from the fridge.

"Magical powers? Where did that come from? You want to be like Superman or something"?

She shifted some things around in the little fridge as she spoke. "Not like Superman. Just....I don;t know. Just fulfilled. You know? I just want to be able to do what I want to do."

"Oh, so, you want to be here"? I asked, as I pointed to the cold table in front of me.

"God, no"! She exclaimed. I just want to matter. I want to be respected and taken seriously."

"And, you think having magical powers will do that for you"? I chuckled at this analogy. She is just so adorable.

"Well, maybe".  Delores threw her arms up in defeat.

"Well, maybe you need to come back to reality. If you want to matter and be respected by others, you first have to acknowledge your true existence. You have to matter to you. You have to respect you. No one is going to make you feel important, if you don't think you are. Besides, all magic comes with a price, Delores." I pointed out. "And  'bite me' are two words you should never use together in a sentence.  Someone may take you up on that offer one day." I stated a matter-of-factually.

"Astrid, no one will ever take me up on that offer. I can't get a date because men seem to frown upon women who work in a morgue for some reason. Oh, and have you seen me lately?" She used her hands to make an up and down motion in front of her body to emphasize her point.
                
                    Delores was 5'5,  light brown flawless skin. She never wore any make-up, but then again, she didn't need it. She had beautiful wavy hair she insisted wearing in a doughnut fashion on the top of her head with little tendrils hanging down the side of her face. I can see her for who she is. Her problem is that she could only see herself as others saw her...nerdy, dorky, no fashion sense whatsoever and no people skills. It's understandable. When you work around dead people all the time, you don't have to worry about what you wear or how you look. You don't get the chance to develop your people skills either. But, Delores is smart and funny. She graduated at the top of her class from Louisiana State University School of Medicine and completed an internship at Baylor College of Medicine. Delores' brain may actually be more unique than Einstein, yet she does not use it as collectively as she should.

"Delores, you have to stop putting yourself down. When you don't have any confidence in yourself, people can see that. And, when they see that, they take advantage of you."

"It's easy for you to say. You're gorgeous." Delores walked over to my desk chair and took a seat. I don't like it when other people sit in my chair or at my desk, but she knew  I wouldn't say anything to her about it. At least not today. "You have the whole package, Astrid," she continued. " You're smart, and pretty, and well rounded. You know what you want out of life. You have everything going for you, and all I got were these stupid rocks. You are nothing like me." She sulked.
I looked down at myself as if to say there is nothing special about me. Delores just waved me off and placed her head on my desk in exasperation.

"Delores, we are not that different?" I tried to appease her, but it wasn't working.

"As in what? The only two things we have in common are being black and females. And, by the extreme lack of attention I get from the male persuasion, I have to wonder if I'm fulfilling the traits of the latter."
She was in rare form.

"Delores, you don't see me with a man, do you?" I was trying to make a point.

"No, but you said that was your choice, which means you could have one, if you wanted one. I don't have a choice. I don't choose to be alone. I'm alone because no man will choose to be with me." She sulked even more and for dramatic effect, she pretended to cry.

"You're selling yourself short, Delores. This is the 21 st century. Haven't you heard? Sista's are doing it for themselves. I don't need a man, and you don't need a .......

"But, I'm not like you, Gloria." She interrupted by reciting a line from my favorite movie, Waiting To Exhale. This made me laugh.

"Delores,  you have to be faithful to your true self before you can be faithful to another person. Embrace who you are. Don't let anyone take that away from you."

"See! It's crap like that. When you say it, it makes so much sense. I just have a hard time incorporating it into my life because of these stupid rocks."

"Stop it with the rocks!" I sighed heavily. "We all have a purpose, Delores. Find out what your purpose is before you embark on a journey with someone you are not compatible with."

Delores took a sip of soda she had been nursing, since she retrieved it from the fridge. She took a deep breath and sat back in the chair.   "How did you become so serene?" She asked, just as the morgue doors swung open.

"Years of practice, Sweetie."