A Horse Named Sorrow by Trebor Healey

Author:Trebor Healey
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780299289737
Publisher: University of Wisconsin Press
Published: 2012-10-10T04:00:00+00:00

31

I had to call the morgue and his family both. The Government Pages, I guess? Sure enough. I took a deep breath.

“City Morgue, County of San Francisco. May I help you?”

“Hi, uh, my boyfriend died . . . and uh, . . . I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Are you his power of attorney?”

“No . . . I don’t think so.”

“Who is?”

“I don’t know about that stuff.”

“Hmm, I see. Are you in contact with his family?”

“No.”

“Do you know how to reach them?”

“I can try.”

“We’ll send someone out. You work on locating his family. In the meantime, give me whatever info you have. His full name?”

I wanted to say: “Chief Joseph. He’s like the most famous Indian ever and he didn’t want to fight no more forever.” I pulled instead: “James Damon Keane, and he’s from Buffalo, New York, and that’s where his family is. And I have his credit card and all that. He doesn’t have a license or anything. Just a credit card.”

“And what’s your name?”

I wanted to have his then; I wanted to say I’m Seamus Keane, his widow, or maybe Ms. Joseph, his number one squaw. “I sure loved Jimmy,” is what I said. “I sure loved him.” And I came apart right there on the phone.

“How old are you, honey?”

She ended up coming out with the guy in the morgue truck, and she sat there with me and listened. Sweet Monique, a big black lady who did the pulling for me, until I could get ahold of the rope of this life once again and do it myself.

Like a barge, life. Pull, pull, pull. Where are we all going? Where are we going, Jimmy?

Back the way we came.

“You want me to deal with the family?” she entreated consolingly.

“No, that’s okay, but we gotta cremate Jimmy; he’s gotta be here with me for a while. I’m gonna have to talk them into it.”

Monique looked worried. “Did you say he needs to stay here?”

“Yeah.”

“He can’t stay here. We gotta take him in. It’s the law.”

“Can I visit?”

“I don’t know. I suppose. No one’s ever asked me about visiting the morgue unless the police are doing it, or somebody has to identify someone. You already know who he is.”

I got a worried look on my face, pleading. “You just gotta keep him there at least three days. It’s like a Buddhist thing with him.”

She was starting to look like I’d run the limits of her compassionate largesse. She got up. “He ain’t goin’ anywhere, once he gets there. Not until the power of attorney decides otherwise. So, you need to talk to them.”

“Okay, thanks Monique.” She gave me a wan smile.

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