by Jerome Pearson
It was a Cadillac Hearse. I was enjoying the smooth ride. Apparently General Motors had improved its suspension system, because we floated over every bump in the pavement, as if we were a boat on a calm sea. I’m not sure if it was a Coup de Ville or Fleetwood Brougham.
But, as we backed up into the graveyard, I could feel some of the bumps that aligned the entrance. The driver must have noticed the bumps too, because he backed more slowly over the second bump. After twisting our way into the cemetery, we suddenly came to a halt. I know the driver got out because I could hear his door slammed.
For the next 30 minutes, I’m not sure what happened, I could only imagine. Meanwhile, I was busy scratching my face because the silk that insulated the casket caused me to itch. Plus the ugly blue suit that was bought for me was too warm, in spite of the cool October weather. That’s the problem with cheap suits. They could have gone to Nordstrom or Saks, or even Macy’s but they chose a Wal-Mart sale. As you can see, I wasn’t well thought of. That’s because I, to be frank, don’t think much of others either. Perhaps that explains why I had done all of the terrible things during my life.
All of sudden the back door was jerked opened. I could feel the hearse lurch backwards. After about ten seconds, the casket was being pulled out. I braced myself, just in case if there were any abrupt motion that might cause me to butt my head. It is not widely known, but I don’t tolerate pain very well.
I was taken about ten feet, and I could hear the October winds blowing over the cemetery. Now, come to think of it, it’s a good thing that this suit is warm. I was told it gets cold down there. When my second cousin came back exactly two years ago, he gave me the low down on what to expect. The temperature is a little more extreme than what is generally experienced above ground, fluctuating from hot to cold.
Shortly, I felt myself being lowered, very slowly, then fast again, then an abrupt halt. I didn’t hear anybody crying as I was being lowered and I was happy. I have heard enough crying during my days. The next time I hear any crying, it had better be when I return. Then, they were throwing dirt over me, bidding me farewell, as if they will never see me again. But they will.
Later that evening after everyone had left the grave, I decided to climb back out of the casket. I left the suit in the casket so it would be available once I return after tonight’s adventures. I had a pair of old jeans, converse sneakers, sweat shirt, a mask and an old wool jacket hidden beneath the insulation. I stole them all from the funeral home last night, when the mortician had gone home. I also stole his knife.
My own family has all disowned me for what I did. They didn’t even give me wake. They say I give the Hampton family a bad name. I don’t see how killing 17 people and stealing that money off that Armor truck should classify me as a bad person. Oh, maybe it was because I did kill the two
drivers, also! So what, that only makes it 19. But there were the 9 rapes I forgot to mention; but they were nothing but skanks anyway. They should not have been looking at me in that teasing way women often do. What do they expect? I am only human; or may be I am not. The Judge said I wasn’t Human; the first Judge that is, but now he is one of those 19.
Sometimes my head hurts. Sometimes I feel just fine. I can calculate things better than most. I was going to be a mathematician. But I killed that professor who gave me a “B”. He should know better than give me B when I was smarter than he is. People always try to take advantage of you. But you have to stand up for your self.
When I was a kid, they had me in an institution; I don’t know why? I wasn’t stupid like those other fools in there. The Dr. who visited the place calls himself a Shrink. Said I have a high I.Q, but emotionally disturbed. Well, I am not going to say what happened to him. Let’s just say he is no longer practicing.
Before the trial, a Preacher came to my cell. He told me to give my life to the Lord. I asked him what for, why don’t he give his life, or I would give it to the Lord for him, or whoever. He didn’t come back.
Now I am walking down these dark streets. My head is hurting again. That succinylcholine they gave me as a final dose didn’t work. I had already put reversal in my system. It brings you back after anesthetization. I know pharmacy. I fooled them all.
Now I am coming back and I have all of those names in my notebook.
By the way, did I scratch your name off yet?
If not, better watch your back, and keep the Devil Down in the Hole.
Jerome Pearson