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    Arran
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dead Body Inside - 2. On the Lam

Here is the second of the three part short story Dead Body Inside. Follow boyfriends Talent and Josiah on their short odyssey to make an old man's final wish come true. Hope you enjoy it.

Talent signals and exits the freeway at Quartzite, Arizona, careful not to attract the attention of the local cops to the hearse and its conspicuous California plates since a multi-state all-points bulletin has probably been issued for it. They immediately head for a gas station, both to refuel and because it’s the most likely place to find a telephone directory. While Josiah refuels the hearse, Talent heads inside and asks to see a telephone directory. He immediately flips to undertakers because undertakers have black Cadillac hearses and it would sure help to hamper the cops by replacing the hearse’s plates with those of another black Cadillac hearse. After asking the attendant which of the funeral homes is closest to their location, he pays for the gas that Josiah has already pumped, then heads back to the hearse and slips into the driver seat.

“I’ll have you know that we’re going to an awful lot of trouble for you, Addie,” he says, looking into the rearview mirror at the casket of their deceased passenger behind him as he buckles his seat belt and starts up the hearse, “so you should be very grateful.”

Josiah smiles. “I’m sure he is,” he replies. “If Addie could speak, I’m sure he would tell you just how grateful he is. However, unlike you, I’ve yet to hear a word from the old man back there.”

“Yeah, well… Anyway, the nearest undertaker is a couple of miles from here, so the sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back on the freeway to Phoenix.”

Using the GPS on his new iPhone, Talent easily finds the place, and there is a black Cadillac hearse looking a couple of years older parked under a portico on the side of the building. He parks behind it and the both of them get out and scurry up to the car, Talent quickly removing the front plate and Josiah removing the rear plate. With their ill-gotten gain in hand, they scurry back to the hearse and drive away.

“That was almost too easy,” Josiah notes. “I expected someone to catch us and sound an alarm. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Neither have I,” Talent says, looking over at his criminal boyfriend. “Thank God it’s a small town. Huh. We’ll go back to the gas station, switch the plates and then be out of here.”

They pull into the gas station and park off to the side under a scraggly tree next to a picnic table that’s seen better days. The tree looks barely alive, probably having to fight to soak up the little bit of moisture in the hot, parched soil, if one can even call it a soil. They get out of the hearse and look around, nobody at the pumps at the moment. Talent walks to the front, Josiah to the rear, and they make quick work of exchanging the plates. After Josiah stashes the California plates under the passenger seat, he joins his boyfriend at the picnic table.

“Good work, babe,” Talent smiles, handing his boyfriend one of the Cokes that he just bought inside. “Hopefully the plates will fool any inquisitive cops. It’s about 130 miles to Phoenix so we should be there in a couple of hours.

 

 

They enter the Phoenix metropolitan area just before sunset. And what a sunset it is, the silhouette of the jagged White Tank Mountains skyline to the west superimposed against a sky awash in brilliant splashes of yellows, oranges, reds and blues. Talent and Josiah see it as a sign of the old man’s joy that somebody cares enough to see that his wish is fulfilled.

Talent yawns, then blinks his eyes several times in rapid succession to sharpen his bleary focus. “I’m beat,” he says. “I’ve been behind the wheel for quite a while.”

Josiah yawns too, because it’s catching. Watching someone else yawn, you just reflexively yawn too. “How about you, Addie?” He says over his shoulder. “Ready to call it a day?”

Silence, which he more or less expects. Of course dead people don’t talk. But he plays along because he loves and admires the person who Talent is.

“So what do you think we should do?” Talent asks. “How about supper and then getting some sleep. It’ll be a long drive to Vegas tomorrow.”

Josiah yawns again. It seem that once you start yawning, you just can’t stop. “Well, if we stay at a motel, we don’t want anyone stealing Addie overnight or this whole ordeal’s been for naught.”

“We could find a secluded place, take Addie out overnight and sleep in back,” Talent suggests as a plausible alternative. “We could even open the box for a while and give him some fresh air before we retire.”

“Hey, I’m not opening that box!” Josiah strongly objects. “Besides, Addie’s just fine the way he is. Fresh air isn’t going to do him any more good than what he has in there now.” Then he turns and surveys the back of the hearse and says, “Besides, it looks really uncomfortable back there on that hard floor. I need a place with a comfortable mattress for tonight. I say we find a cheap motel where we can back the hearse right up in front of our door so we can hear if someone tries to bother it.”

Talent exits onto Bob Stump Memorial Parkway and they find a cheap motel near Luke Air Force Base west of Glendale. Once they’re checked in, Talent backs the hearse up to the door of Room #11.

“So, you sleep tight tonight. Okay, Addie? We’ll be right next door,” Talent says as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the driver-side door. “You should be okay here for the night. See you in the morning.” And with that, he closes the door and locks up the hearse.

Luckily, there’s a greasy spoon little diner just across the road so they head to it and seat themselves at the window so they can keep an eye on Addie.

“So how far to Las Vegas?” Josiah asks as they eat their surprisingly good hamburgers and fries.

“About 300 miles,” Talent replies. “Should take about five hours. With a stop at Hoover Dam, closer to six.”

Surprised, Josiah looks up from his hamburger to his boyfriend. “Hoover Dam?”

“Yeah. Can’t drive from Phoenix to Las Vegas without a stop at Hoover Dam. Addie’s gonna love it if he hasn’t been there before. It’s absolutely massive. Of course, we won’t take the tour, for obvious reasons.”

“For obvious reasons,” Josiah deadpans. “For one very obvious reason: Addie would have a very hard time keeping up. In fact, he’d have a hard time just standing up.”

“C’mon, don’t be mean, babe. Addie can’t help that. We’re all gonna end up there someday.”

Josiah smiles. “I get that. I’m just stating the obvious is all. The man is dead.

Talent bites into his hamburger. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” he says through a mouth full of hamburger. “We’re stopping at Hoover Dam. Addie would be hurt if he didn’t get to see it.”

 

 

Talent opens his eyes to the muted light of a new day filtering into the dingy motel room through the tattered, thin fabric of the faded curtains covering the window. “I should check on Addie,” he says, then swings his bare feet to the floor and pads naked to the door. He opens it, the room suddenly awash in a flood of brilliant sunlight, and sees that the hearse and its deceased occupant appear to have had a peaceful, undisturbed night.

“Hey, there are people trying to sleep, you know,” Josiah complains, lying half on his stomach, as he burrows his head beneath the pillow.

Talent pads back to the single bed that he shared the night with his boyfriend, neglecting the one meant for him, and lays down. Pressing up to the equally naked body of his boyfriend, he moves the pillow from Josiah’s head and kisses him. “You know,” he intimates. “It doesn’t matter where we are, I’ll always love waking up beside you in the morning.”

Josiah just grunts as he attempts to pull the pillow back over his head.

Talent smiles. “Hey, don’t be a grump, babe. You sure weren’t a grump last night after we went to bed. You were amorous, very amorous and just plain hot. If somebody had tried to break into the hearse and disturb Addie during the night, we probably wouldn’t have heard it with all your moaning and groaning.”

“Well, now l’m a little sore,” Josiah grunts beneath the pillow. “Besides, I wasn’t the only one enjoying himself last night.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Talent smiles, “because you sure know how to make loving fun, babe. But now it’s time to get some food and especially some coffee into us for the long road ahead.”

“Um…” Josiah purrs, his head reappearing from under the pillow. “I can almost smell the coffee. You shower first. Okay?”

 

 

Talent eases the hearse back onto northbound Bob Stump Memorial Parkway. At Sun City West he exits the Parkway onto Grand Avenue heading northwest. Forty minutes and thirty miles later they are cruising up the Hassayampa River plain, the riverbed dry as a bone. “Pretty bleak country,” Josiah comments as he stares idly out the window. “They even graze cattle here; though I can’t imagine what they find nourishing in all this scrub.”

Talent chuckles. “Must be where McDonalds gets its beef. Couldn’t get me to wanna live out here. Must be 120° or hotter here in the summer. What do you think, Addie? Don’t need much of an imagination to think that you might have just found hell here.”

“Addie’s thinking about it,” Josiah says to explain away the old man’s silence.

Talent looks over at his boyfriend. “I’m surprised he did so well in real estate, being a man of so few words.”

Josiah looks back at him and smiles. “That’s because he was doing it to make a living. He’s not doing that anymore.”

Talent laughs. “Har har, Josie just made pun. Did you hear that, Addie? He’ll keep us on our toes. Huh, old man.”

“Addie’s silence means that he’s being polite,” Josiah says, back to staring out the window. “Unlike some people I know.”

 

 

“Two hours and 130 miles later they are cruising westbound I-40 through Kingman, Arizona. They hooked up with the Interstate about five miles back. They take the US 93 north exit for Hoover Dam and Las Vegas. It reads Las Vegas 103 miles.

“I have a surprise for you, Addie,” Talent says, looking in the mirror. “Hoover Dam is on our way to Las Vegas. We’re gonna stop there so you can see it. How do you like that? No need to thank me, though. Then, next stop is Vegas!”

Josiah chuckles. “Aren’t you just tickled to death, Addie? Oh, my mistake; you’re already dead. I think I just made another pun.”

“You’re not nice,” Talent chides. “Not nice at all.”

“Addie thinks I’m nice.” Josiah looks back at the coffin. “Don’t you, Addie.”

He puts his hand to his ear. “What’s that?” Then he turns to Talent and says, “Finally… Addie talked to me! He said, ‘Don’t let anybody tell you different; you’re a very nice guy, Josiah.’”

Talent huffs. “He did not.”

Josiah turns to fully face his boyfriend. “How do you know he didn’t?”

“Because I didn’t hear him.”

He was talking to me,” Josiah retorts. “He meant for you not to hear him. Didn’t you, Addie?”

Josiah puts his hand to his ear again, then says, “He just said yes, babe. So there.”

Talent looks into the mirror at the coffin again and says, “Who was considerate enough to risk everything to take you to Vegas, Addie? Certainly not Josie here. He’s been reluctant all along. He thinks I’m crazy.”

“I do not think you’re crazy,” Josiah objects. “If you remember, I told you yesterday that you’re a considerate and caring guy, babe. You still are.

“Anyway, why are we arguing about this? Addie likes both of us.”

Talent looks over at his boyfriend and smiles. “He likes me more, though.”

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a comment, whatever you think about it. One more part to go which will be coming soon.
Copyright © 2020 Arran; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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4 hours ago, Will Hawkins said:

I am sure the passenger is enjoying the drive, but the high temperature concerns me – it can speed up decomposition of the body and increase the odor unless he is pumped full of chemicals which, as the body was prepared by a professional mortician, he might be.

Thank you for your concern about the more scientific details, Will. Addison is an affluent man so I am sure that his body was well-prepared for burial. Also remember that the hearse is air-conditioned except at night, which is cooler. I didn’t mention the season, but we can be assured that isn’t summer since there were no complaints about the oppressive summer heat.  I used to live and work in the Arizona-Sonora and Mohave Deserts and well remember how uncomfortably hot those environments can be during the summer season.

Very good point, though.

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