The Ghost In The Parlour

"The Ghost In The Parlour"

"You know, Mr. Scott," Duncan began in a voice full of hushed enthusiasm before pausing a moment to look down as he stepped across the threshold that separated plush carpet from the concrete walkway from outside.
"Mr. Scott, you are making an excellent choice in allowing us to take care of your final needs," he said, finishing his original thought.
Andrew Scott allowed his eyes to scan the halls and rooms as they moved further into the house. He sensed that Duncan was a far more enthusiastic person than he preferred to interact with, though he thought to himself that the young man was merely doing his job, so he would do well not to criticize.
Planning was not something that was typical of Andrew's personality, so it was even surprising to him that he was thinking this far ahead. Less surprising was the fact that he had no retirement savings, a fairly large mortgage, a car payment that felt just a big and a job that he would likely work until he died. Here in this house, he felt a little overwhelmed by all the splendor and the silence. Then again, a funeral home is a place of reverence, so maybe it was normal.
Duncan led Andrew around a few corners, stopping at his office which Andrew found to be in an odd location. The Moore Funeral Home was one of the oldest homes in town, having been completed in 1899. Its fade was imposing, making the building seem far larger than it truly was despite being over 3,000 square feet to start. Duncan had chosen what appeared to be a dining room near the center of the home that was still isolated from viewing rooms as the house separated into the Eastern and Western Wings following a minor renovation. Duncan had hoped to maintain the charm and the design from 1899, and succeeded by simply adding one short wall and extending two others, creating a flow that led to his office from the front or back doors, but avoided it entirely when the side entrances were used for services.
Andrew noted that same plush carpeting that had given Duncan pause a few moments before and wished that he could remove his shoes and socks to enjoy what he imagined was incredibly soft. While he looked longingly, Duncan carried on his conversation.
"Mr. Scott...do you prefer Andrew?" He paused for a moment with a quizzical look before continuing right along, regardless of what the answer would have been.
"Andrew, I think that this is one of the most difficult decisions to make. Final expenses can be such a burden on family at a time when final decisions are the last thing they want to make. I'm glad that this is something we can sort out for you and your family," he said in his quietly excited voice. He reached around to his desk to put down the portfolio he carried with him and then turned to Andrew and put his hands on his shoulders.
"I'll help you make the decisions and we will take all the time you need to make sure it's the right one for you and your family." Andrew stared blankly ahead mulling over the situation. Though the circumstances were macabre, Duncan's cheerful concierge personality almost made it seem bearable. Loneliness was not unknown to Andrew, and at this moment he didn't feel all that lonely.
Duncan continued speaking after a short breath that seemed to interrupt what he was thinking of saying.
"I bet that you are expecting this is be a very complicated process, Andrew. I can promise you that it really isn't all that bad!" Duncan walked around his desk to gather his glasses and a few brochures and some paperwork before walking back and settling himself in a velvet cushioned chair. This office screamed 'Art Deco' to Andrew, but he just smiled inwardly and said nothing. Duncan dropped his glasses onto his nose, grabbed his pen and began filling out bits of information while continuing on.
"Sometimes I find myself thinking that this isn't that difficult, but then again, I can forget to put myself in others shoes! I can't imagine what it's like to sit across from someone like me and plan my own funeral," he said in his cheerful exuberance before smiling politely while looking to Andrew over his glasses.
Andrew sat stiffly, but understood what Duncan meant. He was a young man once, he knew that if nothing else, Duncan meant well. Odd as the situation may feel, it was still better than anything else he would have been doing that day. Duncan had continued filling out paperwork and had left a brochure open on the table between them that Andrew struggled to see from where he sat.
"That's enough of this scribbling for now," Duncan said while he placed his pen down and situated himself at the edge of the velvet cushion turned to face Andrew more directly. "I think maybe we should start by looking at a few of options that are available, shouldn't we?"
Duncan pulled the brochures across the table, picked them up and held them where Andrew could see a little more clearly. He quickly explained the options and leaned a little closer in towards Andrew.
"If I might make a little bit of a suggestion?" He smiled a secretive smile, as though he knew something exciting and was bursting at the seems to share it. He couldn't wait, so he shared the secret. "I think this is the best option there is for such a long rest." His fingers traced the edge of the page and landed near the middle of the brochure where a rather luxurious casket with a rich mahogany finish and opulent velvet lining was outlined.
Andrew let his eyes wander from the page and felt a small wave of discomfort that lead him to wonder if perhaps he had made a mistake in coming. Really, this was the type of decision for loved ones amidst grieving a recent loss, isn't it? He had felt the grief and confusion when his wife had passed just a few weeks ago as they had made no preparations for themselves. The roiling in his core had begun to bubble over the longer he thought about the simple arrangements he made for his wife while Duncan was showing him luxury for himself.
Duncan quietly assessed that perhaps he had chosen the wrong path with his customer but paused to let the idea settle in Andrew's mind before moving along. Sometimes it was best to let the customer say 'No' before moving on to the next option. In a surprising twist, Andrew did not say 'No'. Duncan repositioned his glasses on his nose and leaned slightly away from Andrew.
"I know this must be a difficult decision for you. I understand that your wife passed some weeks ago. I am truly sorry for your loss. This can be a very difficult time to deal with such a decision," and he trailed off at the end, unsure of what else he could say that would be comforting.
Shades of guilt were casting themselves across Andrew's thoughts. Could he really be making such a decision without his wife? He could, because that was life now. How could he be making such an expensive purchase for himself? Especially considering he wasn't really going to be able to enjoy it. Honestly, he thought...How does one enjoy velvet when one is dead?
Andrew looked back to the brochure and thought how it really didn't matter anymore. Not much did matter now. Duncan sensed that he was back from wherever his grief had taken him and leaned in slightly to speak in a lower voice.
"You needn't worry, Mr. Scott," he said in a hushed voice. "I can make sure that everything is taken care of for you. Your reluctance to make a decision like this for yourself is very normal, I can assure you of that. Please don't think that you are alone in this struggle."
Duncan had a habit of being a little bit to personal and direct. His skill as an Undertaker was likely his only saving grace since his personality could be abrasive. The Moore Funeral Home had always had a fantastic reputation, increasingly so when Duncan was young as his cossetting was second to none. The reverence for his skill was currently the only thing bringing people in after his father passed away, leaving the business to him. In this town he was known as a very unusual person. A somewhat flamboyant personality preceded him and led to most people seeing him as eccentric and unprofessional.
Andrew felt a distinct feeling of disgust as Duncan spoke. It felt almost as though he were listening to a man talking to himself as he went about his day. The uneasy feeling did not fade despite his obvious unhappiness, and Duncan continued on, suddenly making his discomfort nearly tangible. Duncan rose, standing to the side of Andrew, and placed his hands on his shoulders. It was meant as comfort but came across as disturbing and somewhat sinister. Duncan squeezed both shoulders twice and gave a deep sigh as he let go and walked the rest of the way around the chair before returning to his own seat.

II

The air in the room felt suddenly still and Andrew found himself wishing to any other funeral home. The overall silence and stillness of the room carried throughout the entire building. Andrew only now realized that he and Duncan were alone in the house. He recalled now that he had not seen or spoken with a single soul since he came in, escorted by Duncan from the parking lot. The funeral home itself was rather large and sat on a sizeable lot. The landscape and home were impeccable; So much so that the business must employ at least five or six people to help with what Andrew imagined was a rather long list of chores to keep the building in good nick.          
The bright cheerful light that came with the delightful late Spring weather made the room flash gold as the lone cloud in the sky finished passing across the Sun. Duncan had taken to scribbling away on an invoice while Andrew say uncomfortably, sloping slightly to one side. He waited to see what Duncan would say next. The price was likely to be enough to dispatch him, so he thought it serendipitous that he was sat arranging his own funeral. The humor of his situation was short-lived but enough to make him smile inwardly. A few more moments passed, and Duncan placed his pen down, removed his glasses and breathed out heavily before looking up at his guest.
"Andrew...may I call you Andy?" he questioned, not pausing long enough to get a verbal answer. "Andy, why don't we take a walk?" As he spoke, he placed a hand on Andrew's shoulder again to lead him out of the office and into the main hall of the house. Andrew was feeling stiffness worse than usual. He had never really taken care of himself. No matter how hard his wife had tried, she hadn't been able to get him to do much more than the infrequent visit to the doctor. He knew for his age that he was in far worse shape than he probably should be and for the first time, it bothered him. They continued, coming through the main hallway and to an area that was almost hidden from view except for when you were standing right in front of it. Well placed walls overlapped in such a way that the walkway that was in the middle of them was nearly invisible. Duncan led Andrew through a set of doors and into an area that was overly lit by harsh lighting.
Once he had led them through the double doors, Duncan stopped and grabbed a coat. Though his patience was running a bit thin, Andrew sat and waited. An interesting personality indeed, he said to himself. From what he could see, Duncan was in his own world and went on about his business as though nothing that was happening had any bearing on him. Andrew found himself wondering if Duncan was just eccentric or if there were another problem causing his aloofness. Either way, it was clear that everything happened in Duncan's time. Surely if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse showed up right now, he might ask them to sit in the parlour and wait until he was ready only to ask them if they wanted tea or coffee.
Andrew settled a little and sat looking towards the double doors. Duncan had been humming under his breath and was making his way back over to him.
"You know what, Andy?" he said with a snake-oil salesman's grin.
Andrew said nothing but looked at him with wide-eyes seemingly asking 'What?'.
"You know, I had a wife once myself," Duncan said. There was a layer of humor on top of what seemed like sarcasm. Andrew was looking for something else to steer the conversation towards. His thoughts were failing him, and he resigned himself to the diatribe he was about to encounter. Duncan looked wistfully into the distance for just a moment before the smile returned and he set himself to task again.
"Andy, I'm going to just work on a few things here for a moment, if you don't mind. Why don't you go ahead and rest your eyes?" Duncan motioned near his face and Andrew shut his eyes. The room wasn't what he would call uncomfortable, though the stiffness and now a chill were starting to wear on him a little. He hadn't yet settled into a comfortable position and that was beginning to bother him too. Duncan paced back and forth across the room, sometimes passing and stopping near Andrew. He was listening while Duncan worked and he occasionally brushed past Andrew, stopping to move his arm.
After a few minutes, he stood next to Andrew again and said, "I bet you would be much more comfortable laying down, wouldn't you?" While Andrew agreed, he didn't expect Duncan to stoop and lift him nearly effortlessly up and settle him into a reclining position. Though it felt like a little bit of a crossed boundary, Andrew was happy to finally be in a more relaxed position. With his eyes still closed Andrew listened to Duncan's movements. He was again shocked that he couldn't hear a single other sound throughout the old house. He decided that the Moore Funeral Home was a tightly run ship.
Duncan resumed his moving back and forth, seemingly between the tables against the wall and where Andrew was sitting. Since he was finding himself more comfortable, he almost didn't mind Duncan droning on without pause, not talking to Andrew but more talking at Andrew. He picked up his thoughts from a few minutes before as though they had never been interrupted.
"Yes, I had a wife, Andy. She really was something special. I didn't think I could see the day where I could live without her," he said without a hint of sadness that felt much like it was bordering on manic. Andrew agreed that he couldn't have seen himself living without his wife, but here he was, still trying to come to terms with the hand he was dealt.
"It's funny how quickly fate can make a decision like that for you and take someone away without any warning," He paused and pointed at his temple. "Aneurysm, they said. Quick and painless, they said." Duncan paused and thought about it just a few moments and shook his head. "I don't know if that's true, but I really hope it was." Andrew felt a little bit of kinship now, though an uneasy one. Duncan busied himself at Andrew's side again where Andrew was beginning to feel a bit of that stiffness overcoming him again. It was feeling as though he were jumping up and down on the inside but not moving a muscle. The longer he sat, the more agitated he felt.
After what felt like hours, Andrew's eyes open and he was greeted by Duncan looking down at him. He wondered if he had made himself too comfortable and laid down or if he had fallen and was just now waking up. Either way, Duncan appeared to have helped him get to where he was. Andrew wondered if Duncan had continued talking while he was being so rude. He made the effort now to listen as his eyes were open and he was watching him. The story rolled into something another; This one seemed to be one of a terrible childhood. Andrew agreed that growing up in a funeral home could be difficult after Duncan mentioned that it was somewhat traumatic for him the moment he realized what a funeral home was.
"Andy...I know you're probably getting a little jumpy. It's difficult not to be able to stretch your legs. I understand," and he chuckled softly. "Well, maybe I don't understand, but I certainly do empathize!" His salesman's smile had returned and felt like it had been grown brighter than before. Andrew wasn't sure if he should laugh or be concerned. There was a creeping cold working its way deeper than before and the stiffness in his joints loosened, but his body felt like it was locked in place and immovable.
"Maybe a short stroll would do you some good? Outside, in the sunshine. It certainly wouldn't hurt," Duncan said as he helped Andrew into position. He led him out of the double doors and into the blinding sunlight. Andrew couldn't close his eyes against the glare. The warmth of the sunshine was a welcome sensation against the cold. Warm as the Sun was, the chill crawled deeper until Andrew was left frozen and feeling helpless. Duncan sensed that Andrew was uncomfortable and tried to offer some solace.
"Andy," Duncan had to work a bit for Andrew's attention. Andrew's panic was rising, and he could feel it. He called his name a twice more, finally catching Andrew's attention.
"Now is not the time to panic, Andy," he said, ushering them both back into the building. Andrew could feel a roiling in his chest, a turbulence that should have had him struggling to catch his breath. The breath that should have come, didn't. The sunlight bore through the skylights that seemed to be in every room until they were drowned by the florescent lights of the double door room. Andrew's eyes rolled in his head, taking in everything they could. His body refused to listen to him begging for it to move. A scream welled up inside. He couldn't force his lips apart to let it out. Duncan moved swiftly to place him back in his reclined position on the embalming table. Duncan's face suddenly looked drawn. He looked as though his thoughts pained him. He discreetly pulled up a stool and sat next to Andrew to better look him in the eye.
"Please, Andy. I know it's not pleasant, I know you must be petrified...but I promise you it will pass," he said. As he spoke, the eccentric salesman that he met earlier that day melted away and a man whose past was made from years of melancholy appeared. His face hadn't changed but it looked far different than it had even just minutes ago. Andrew tried his best to calm his mind. The strain of panic was tearing through him. It took all his strength to stop his silent screams and to live with the electricity coursing through every part of him until he could understand.
Duncan breathed another great sigh. His heart was heavy and his voice tired. Andrew felt his fears recede some, giving him just enough peace to listen.
"Yes, Andy, I know that you're still here," said Duncan. "The question is, do you know where here is?" Duncan motioned around him while he spoke. Andrew let his eyes roll again, and from this more upright position, he could see that he was still in the funeral home. In fact, he was in the embalming room. When his eyes rolled down, he found himself dressed in one of his nicest suits. The one he hated. Upside; He was wearing the tie his wife liked best.
"Buddy, let me tell you, this is probably the hardest part of the job," Duncan spoke on, a glimmer of the Duncan from this morning shining through again. "I don't suppose you'd want to trade, would you?" he said with a forced chuckle.
"Undertaker is really not the most fitting name, I guess," said Duncan. "I don't really take you anywhere. Really, I just sit and wait with you." He pulled his glasses from his nose and wiped them before replacing them.
"I waited quite a bit when my wife passed, Andy. I waited for minutes, then hours, then days. A lot of waiting," and he trailed off again. "I said before 'quick and painless' when I was talking about my wife. I don't know about painless, but damned if it wasn't quick."
Duncan shifted himself so he could look straight at Andrew from his stool.
"She wasn't there any more, by the time I got back home and found her. The truth is, most everyone is there when they get to me. She was the first one that wasn't, and I waited for her to be there." Duncan's heartache grew the more he spoke. "I wait here with you, that's my lot in life."
Andrew suddenly felt why he had been so cold, so stiff and so unaware of what was happening. In that moment he felt something not unlike pins and needles in his legs starting lightly in his feet and moving upwards. He felt separate from his body.
"You'll have to watch them all say goodbye. That's just how it works, Andy. They'll come, they'll cry over you and wish they'd spent more time with you. You'll feel that same sadness too. It's grief that I can't explain. They'll come and say their goodbyes," Duncan stared off as though he were imagining or remembering. "There will be stories, anecdotes, jokes, favorite memories...you name it. You might not think so, but everyone has a story about you they'll always remember."
He only paused a moment before continuing. He seemed to finally reach something that made him happy.
"That's one thing I love. The stories, I mean," he clarified quickly. "A man's best party only happens when he dies. Hard to explain that one. I always try to remember at least one story. They might not be my stories, but I don't mind hearing them and remembering them later. It helps when I'm waiting."
"And tooday, I'm waiting with you. In an hour or so, I'll be out amongst your family and I'll still be waiting with you. I don't know which way to tell you to go. There's no bright light, Andy. There's no warm feelings or anything like that. Not for me, anyway. I just wait until you aren't there any longer. Tomorrow, I might get a break, or I might have to wait with someone else. That's what I do, buddy." Duncan let a sad smile slip while he stood again and moved behind the casket to lead Andrew out to the main part of the house.

III

         The warm lights in the hallway led to the viewing room. Andrew lay slightly inclined in that same rich mahogany casket with the opulent velvet lining he had seen only hours earlier in the brochure. He looked over himself trying to figure out how he managed to turn into what he saw. He stood next to his own casket, finally free of the body that he was looking down at. For a few minutes, he had been overjoyed as he moved about the house. At some point a handful of employees had arrived and had transformed the viewing room in what felt like only a few moments. The chairs set out, the casket polished and propped open just so, flowers arranged and rearranged until every detail was perfect.
         Andrew wandered as far as he felt comfortable until a terrible strain pulled at him. An invisible tether pulled taut and threatened to break the more he tried to move away. During his roaming, he did not notice him, but now that he was circling the viewing room, he could see Duncan sitting off to the side in a dimly lit corner of the room. He was nearly hidden in a small alcove that nearly blended in much like the entrance to the double door room in the main hallway. He seemed content to sit in the room watching. There was a look on his face that said he was preparing himself; A look that said this was something he always prepared for. Weariness was hanging over him.
         Duncan stood to fix himself, stopping to check himself in the mirror before opening the large French Doors that led into the room from the hallway. At the doors, he paused and spoke without turning around.
         "There's a small tether on you. Did you feel it yet?" He paused but still did not turn around. Duncan knew that Andrew heard him and was listening. "It will break soon enough. Just wait. And don't worry. I'll wait with you." With that, Duncan walked into the hallway and Andrew resigned himself to a seat in the area nearest the casket.
         Andrew was unsure of how much time had passed since he sat. It was as though an entire lifetime had gone by though he never felt a single moment of it. He found when his mind had stopped wandering again that he was in a room full of his family and friends. The room felt near bursting with the number of people that stood in it, though they had left a berth around the casket and none of them had yet walked up to it. There were tears on all but a few faces. Some tears of sadness, some tears of reminiscence, but all were for Andrew. Still in his chair, Andrew felt as though he shouldn't move. The outpouring of emotion at his expense was more confusing than anything, he wasn't yet sure how to handle the mixture of emotions that he was feeling, let alone the wall of emotion that was separated from him by a row of chairs.
         Duncan came into the room then and closed one of the two doors and pulled a heavy curtain across the other for privacy. The lights in the room rose and the guests felt compelled to find a seat. Duncan made his way to the front of the room and offered his condolences to some of the guests that he encountered. He checked his watch and saw that it was nearly seven o'clock and motioned imperceptibly to a worker near the back of the room meaning for him to prepare the room across from them with food and drink for the guests that wished to stay the full night. He stepped through a curtain and came back through seconds later with a Priest. As the Priest began to speak to the guests, Duncan circled the room to the back corner and gestured for Andrew to follow.
         Though he wasn't sure how tight the tether might pull, Andrew was determined to make his way to where Duncan sat in his hidden corner. The Priest went through the ceremony quickly and the guests slowly made their way up, some in pairs, some by themselves and said their goodbyes. Andrew watched from the back of the room and saw their faces as they walked away from where he lay. On some faces he saw sadness. On others he saw a look as though they had come to terms with everything. Still others he saw flashes of misplaced anger and stress. The longer he sat, the more emotions he saw as the people walked past him and into the other room to converse and remember him over the tempting food that the Moore Funeral Home had laid out to keep them as long as possible. Duncan huffed and leaned forward to lift himself from the chair with some effort.
         Andrew stayed in the room when the tether started to pull tighter. Duncan talked with most every guest, and without asking them to follow, brought them back into the room in small groups to the viewing room and listened to their stories. The exhaustion that had cloaked his face earlier seemed to fade more with each memory that was shared. The guests began to come together in bigger groups and the next hour passed quickly as they told their stories. Before long, Duncan looked himself again while he listened reverently to each guest. Over the following hour the guests slowly left, some lingering long by the casket to say their goodbyes, others showing paying their respects quickly for the last time before walking out the double doors.
         Ten o'clock rolled around and the room was now quiet as the last of the guests left and only Andrew and Duncan remained. They sat in the front row of chairs while two workers quickly cleaned and set the room as it was early that morning. When they left, the room went back to being quiet and still and finally Duncan spoke.
         "This is really the most difficult part, Andy," he said in a low voice. Andrew noticed that his thoughts were starting to wander again. Where they were, he had no idea. He was only noticing that long periods of time were passing, and he could not account for any single minute.
         "Do you want to hear some of the stories that I heard tonight?" Duncan asked. "I heard some truly great ones, and I think it might do you well to hear them. It would certainly help to pass the time, wouldn't it?"
         Andrew sat and resisted the pull of the unseen tether. As he listened to each story Duncan had been regaled with in turn, he felt that his mind was no longer wandering. Each moment seemed to take longer and longer to pass. Now the night seemed to stretch infinitely while he listened and kept finding his eyes drawn to the casket to look at himself again. Duncan shared one story after another. Andrew was drawn into each story, remembering some of them vividly as though he were living them all over again. Occasionally, Duncan would stop and take drink or nibble on a small piece of food off the small plate one of the workers had brought him before leaving. No more than a minute or two would pass before the would begin the next story. He would even share some of his own stories when the ones he told about Andrew reminded him of something similar.
         Restlessness set in just before the sun rose. Andrew had spent the entire night with Duncan listening to many stories. He laughed silently at some, fought swirling surges of emotion during others and closed his eyes and jumped into the past to visualize some while Duncan reminded him of still more memories. The tether that had pulled so tight during the night felt shorter but less taut. The sun broke the horizon and the entire house was bathed in a glow of warm rose gold. An inviting sky welcomed the sunrise almost as much as Andrew did. Andrew wished he could enjoy the warmth of the sun today more than any other day even though he wasn't feeling cold. There wasn't much of to feel, save for the pins and needles that had slowly spread throughout the night and grown in intensity until the sun broke and it started to recede.
         Duncan had waited until a few of his employees had shown up before taking a short recess to refresh himself. He returned to the room in less than half an hour in a new suit, hair combed, and beard neatly trimmed without a sign of the exhaustion that had plagued him in the afternoon and early evening the day before. Duncan had not left Andrew alone even in his absence, and for that, Andrew was thankful. Under any other set of circumstances, he would have felt trapped, but in this instance, he was relieved that Duncan had kept his promise and waited with him. Once the other employee had left, Duncan spoke to Andrew again.
         "The waiting is almost done, Andy. It's such a lonely task, waiting is," he said while he moved with Andrew towards the double doors. There was no tension on the tether even with it still being connected. "I know how lonely you can get when you're waiting, especially when you don't know quite what you're waiting for," he added.
         "Truth is, I don't know what to tell you to expect. All I can do is help you pass the time," he gave Andrew a sad smile. They moved together through the door that Andrew came in through and passed the threshold from plush carpet to concrete as the made their way down the ramp into the driveway and stopped at the hearse. It felt like only a blink of his eyes and when they opened again, Andrew found himself standing in the cemetery only a few feet away from the open grave where many of the people he had seen the night before were seated and the funeral service was underway. The tether had suddenly pulled hard and brought him here. He knew that he must have had his eyes closed for longer than just a moment. Perhaps his mind had wandered, and the sudden jerk was what brought him back.
         He walked unhurriedly to the graveside where he stood surveying the faces in the crowd enjoying the absence of the pins and needles that had been with him all night. While he gave pause there, the service was ending, and his family and friends rose and walked to the graveside to throw a handful of dirt before moving on. Duncan had been standing near him nodding to him now and then to assure him things were still okay. As the last row of those gathered was walking from their seats to the dirt pile, Duncan started to talk to Andrew in a whisper again. There were still more stories to share, and Duncan relayed them one after another, sometimes even mimicking the voices that the people had used when they told them. He carried on a little longer as the last handful of earth was thrown down and the people meandered some and eventually dispersed.
         "It was Spring, the family was at the river you visited when you were young," Duncan was saying just above a whisper, "You were playing near the waterfall and that was when you met your wife. The only girl your age playing just across the river. You know your Sister still remembers that?" Andrew looked out into the distance. Duncan couldn't tell what he was looking at since all he could see what the other rows of gravestones and the forest that surrounded them. So Duncan did as he always did and provided privacy and respect and continued his story while watching the last few family members ride away. Andrew needed his privacy in the coming moments, and this is what Duncan was waiting with him for.
         The tether released when the story finished. Andrew felt confused and turned around to look about him. Duncan felt him move but kept his eyes ahead. It wasn't his place to know what happened in these moments. He would find himself in this same spot at some point, it was best to wait to find out what happened. He was quite good at waiting. Duncan thought of one more short anecdote he had heard and told it. When he had finished, he turned, and Andrew was gone. After taking one last look around, he walked back to his sedan. The hearse had left already, and the real undertakers were at work finishing up burying the casket. Duncan drove back home and walked through the double door, across the threshold and towards his office where he sat, and he waited.