In order of height from tallest to littlest, Andrew, Abraham, Casper, Charlie, and I were the closest of buddies from our days in high school. We each went our different ways shortly after graduation, but we always kept in touch and gathered twice every year for old times’ sake. Video games, cheap beer, and gummy bears were a few of our favourite things. We would play video games at Charlie’s place then get food and get drunk.
One of those Christmases, Andrew didn’t join us and he didn’t answer his phone either. We speculated that he might’ve been delayed at the airport or something with the severe European snowstorms that winter.
“Yo, you guys hungry? Do you wanna eat beef or cow?” Abraham asked after we finished with our last round of Mario Kart.
“Dude, beef and cow are the same thing.” Charlie rolled his eyes.
“But cow is alive and beef is ready to eat.” I pointed out.
Just before we left for hot pot, we tallied up our scores and decided that Abraham should pay for dinner because he scored the most points for the night. In true brotherly fashion, we ordered the most expensive options available with all-you-can-eat premium Japanese beef and US pork. Abraham, in his typical clumsy fashion was…well, you’ll see.
“$1660 please sir.” The pleasant waitress came around to bring Abraham the bill,
He handed her his American Express, she took a glance at it and gave it back to him. “Sir, you need to sign the back of this card to make it a valid form of payment.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know that.” He grabbed a pen, drew two circles on the signature strip and handed it back to the waitress.
Two circles. That was his legal signature for that credit card.
As we walked out of the restaurant and discussed which bar we should go to for the best deal on margarita jugs, Casper got a call. He didn’t say much on the phone and only nodded in receipt of what the other party was saying.
“Dude, where do you wanna drink?” Charlie asked Casper while he was still on the phone. “Everyone’s gotta vote.”
“Shut up Charlie, it’s Andrew.” Casper frowned.
“Andrew? Is he still stuck at Edinburgh airport?” I joked. “At this rate he’s better off staying there since he’s only back for a week.”
Then he got off the phone and pulled the whole bunch of us aside. “Listen up, his mother just called me. Andrew got a heart attack on the plane on the way back and now he’s in the mortuary at the hospital. She’s heading here right away but won’t arrive till tomorrow, it’s up to us to get him into a funeral home tonight or the government will charge exorbitant storage fees she can’t afford.” Casper informed us.
“What do we do now?” Abraham asked.
“We go to the hospital and we get him out of there.” Casper said.
“But it’s almost midnight, where the hell are we going to get a coffin and a rental truck?” Charlie asked.
“I know a local 24 hour delivery company by the airport, can you drive us there?” I asked Charlie.
“Sure, let’s head home and grab the car.” Charlie signalled for us to walk back to where we came from.
The four of us fit into his two-door Mini Cooper like Mr. Incredible in his tiny blue car, except there were four of us. We went around the airport and drove through the front gate of the only truck lot that still had deliveries coming in and out of it. Charlie parked the car right in front of the customer service office and we walked right in.
“Good evening, are you sending or receiving a package tonight?” The acne-ridden teenager behind the counter asked us.
“You think you have a box as long as he is tall and as wide as he is fat?” Casper asked while pointing to Abraham.
“Hey, Andrew’s way fatter.” Abraham sulked.
“And a little wider than he is wide.” Casper added.
“Sure thing, we have boxes for all your delivery needs, large or small we have you covered.” The teenager recited from his service manual. “What do we have the pleasure of delivering for you tonight…sirs?”
“Do you really need to know?” Casper asked.
“Well, it is required by law for international shipments and required by company policy even in domestic shipments, what is the origin and destination of this package?” He asked.
“It’s local, from one part to town to another, and very urgent, but it won’t fit in my car.” Casper replied.
“Could you tell me the contents of the package please?” The teenager asked.
Casper looked at us as if looking for a way out, and we stared back at him blankly expecting him to find some way of explaining the situation to the customer service representative. Then he turned back to the counter and whispered: “human remains of a friend”.
“Oh.” He paused and looked at us for a few seconds, not knowing how to react. “I’m going to have to ask my manager.”
We sat down in the reception area drinking the free distilled water from the water cooler in the waiting area waiting for the customer service representative to return. No words were exchanged, no eye contact was made, we know we had to get this right.
“Sir.” He called out to Casper.
All of us got up and crowded around the service counter.
“We can put it down as historical artefacts on our internal system, but none of our drivers will take the job.” He informed us.
“But we really need to get him to the funeral home by tomorrow morning, his mother’s flying in from the UK.” Charlie explained.
“In extenuating circumstances, the manager can make alternative arrangements. Let me find out what we can do for you.” With that he walked back into the office to confer with his duty manager.
Not long after, he came back with good news. “If you’ll leave a credit card with us, you can drive one of our trucks to make the delivery yourself, but we’ll have to charge you full price for the use of the entire truck.”
“How much will that cost?” Casper asked.
“$1200 from now until noon tomorrow.” He replied.
“Well, it’s cheaper than dinner.” I encouraged. “Plus it’s really our only option at this point in time.”
“Alright, we’ll take it.” Abraham handed his credit card over.
“Please sign here.” The teenager gave Abraham a receipt.
With the two circles he drew on the dotted line, we were ready to roll.
“The box you need is in the back of the truck and the keys are in the ignition, it’s the third one on the right in front of warehouse number two.” The teenager told us. “Have a good evening.”
Nothing much came to mind as we walk out to the truck except elated discussions on how we were “saved” from the issue of transportation. We opened up the back of the truck and just as the teenager said, the box was flat packed there. With foresight, Casper suggested we take the box out and open it up to see if it was big enough. Charlie held the box next to Abraham to see if it would cover the whole of his body from the front and sides to ensure that 6-foot Andrew would fit inside.
“Who’s driving?” Casper asked.
Again, we stared at each other hoping someone else would have the answer to that question. Clearly, we hadn’t thought through this exercise completely.
“I don’t have a truck license.” Casper declared.
“Neither do I.” Abraham and Charlie shrugged. Then the three of them looked at me.
“I’ve never driven one outside of exam conditions.” I explained. “And I haven’t driven in manual transmission for years.”
“But you can legally drive that thing, right?” Charlie opened the driver’s side door as if ushering me in.
“Let’s do this for Andrew.” I nodded. “Charlie, can you drive behind me with your hazard lights on in case I stall?”
“Sure, I’ll do that. Abraham can come with me and Casper will go with you on the truck.” Charlie suggested.
With that, we proceeded to our respective battle stations and got the two-vehicle convoy rolling on the roads in first gear with hazard lights flashing. Slowly but surely, my confidence grew in me and I proceeded to shift up to second, then third gear, hammering down the highway from the airport to the hospital.
About a half-hour later, we were parked in the loading bay of the hospital and made our way down the mortuary. The basement mortuary was cold and lifeless surrounded with unwelcoming stainless steel shelves that housed dead bodies.
The coroner came out of his office to come and greet us. “He’s over there on table number four. If it’s him let me know and we’ll sign a release to his next of kin.”
He brought us over to table number four, pulled the sheet covering the body down to reveal its face – sure enough it was Andrew.
“Yeah that’s him.” Abraham said.
“You can have him with an authorised signature of either the director of a funeral home or a family member.” The corner handed us a release form.
“I’m his brother.” Abraham lied to the coroner and proceeded to draw his two little circles at the bottom of the form.
It’s not like the coroner would doubt him anyways, he was as tall and as fat as Andrew with a complexion that was frequently confused with him. As soon as he handed the release form back, the coroner put Andrew in a metal box and gave us the body. The four of us grabbed one handle each and gingerly lifted him off from the table. Careful to keep the box in a level state so Andrew wouldn’t roll to one side, Abraham and Casper had to stoop down a little because Charlie and I were slightly shorter.
We placed him in the brown cardboard box in the back of the truck and returned the steel box to the hospital. Public hospitals are too cheap to give a dead man a free metal coffin. By the time we headed out of the hospital it was about three in the morning and we arrived at the funeral home a half hour later. What we hadn’t realised was that the funeral home didn’t open till seven and the body started to smell at ambient temperature.
“Dude, we should’ve asked for a fridge truck.” Charlie said.
“Yeah, he’s not gonna last till seven, we need to get him some ice.” I concurred.
“Hey, why don’t we go to a 24 hour 7-11 and see if we can’t buy some ice?” Casper suggested.
I started the truck and we drove up to the nearest 24-hour 7-11 with Charlie following right behind us. We paid $750 for all the ice that the store had, fifty 1-kg bags of potable and cooling ice, and carried them bag by bag to the back of the box truck. When we realised that the condensation from the melting ice would ruin the makeshift cardboard coffin, we paid an extra $20 to wrap it up with forty plastic bags. Just so it would last until sunrise.
The four of us each bought a soda and we sat out on the curb in front of the funeral home until it opened. While we waited for the funeral home to open, we talked about all the good times with Andrew and hoped that we had enough ice to keep his body fresh for a little while longer.
At the first sign of lights being turned on in the funeral home, we banged on the door and yelled for attention. A caretaker came out to see what the matter was with us.
“How can I help you gentlemen this morning?” The caretaker asked.
“We have a body in that truck and we need to get it refrigerated now.” Charlie pointed to the box truck with melting icewater dripping out the back of it.
“Come right in.” The caretaker propped the doors open for us to bring Andrew in.
We unwrapped the plastic bags from the cardboard coffin and carried him in on our shoulders. When we got to the basement, we selected a simple cedar coffin for him and instructed the funeral home to embalm his body. Moments later, Andrew’s mother came in to join us in making arrangements for his funeral.
“I’m sorry I’m late, the taxi couldn’t stop out front, there’s this box truck parked in the taxi stand.” She smiled and hugged each of us. “Thank you boys for taking care of him, you’ve always been so good to Andrew.”
“He was always there for us, and we’re always here for each other.” I said.
“I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you.” She sighed.
“Oh no worries, never too much trouble for a friend in need.” Casper said. “I’m sure the box truck driver didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”
When most of the arrangements were settled and we worked out the exact logistics of the burial we sat in a circle in the room staring into each other, again. Each of us hoped that one of us would say something profound to break the silence, but none of us could think of anything meaningful.
When Andrew’s mother broke into tears we put our arms on each other’s shoulders, put our heads together, and cried together. It’s been such a long journey we hadn’t had the time to reflect on the emotional weight of what had happened. The loss of just one hardy man finally broke the other four.
