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Prolific Writer
Join Date: Jul 2005
Posts: 197
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Naomi and the Undertaker
I am very sorry but I can not seem to get this story formatted correctly, have been trying for over an hour, so I am just posting it as is....uggg!
Naomi and the Undertaker
If you lived in Basin, Wyoming in the late 1950's, it was if you stepped into a scene from "Happy Days". Flowers seemed to bloom year round, and children had those rosy checks that the artists of the day seemed to capture on the covers of Post and Life Magazines. A peaceful haven at the foot of the Big Horn Mountains where the breezes filled the valley with the scents of wildflowers and pine. The town appeared to be all that it was: peaceful, family orientated, with a church going populace. The kids roamed the street without fear and played kick the can and hide and go seek long into summer nights.
Like any small town, Basin harbored its characters. This story will tell you about two of them, Naomi and Mr. Underwood, who was the Undertaker for the city. His attire resembled a tuxedo whose tails always fluttered when he walked around town. He was the original, "Man in Black." He was as skinny as the scarecrows that dotted the farmland down Orchid Road. His hands, badly crippled with arthritis, were gross protrusions hanging from the sleeves of his jacket and his face was the pasty white color of the dead. It seemed as if he escaped from the ground himself so he could collect the bodies of the dearly departed.
Mr. Underwood wore the fragrance of formaldehyde like most men
of the town wore Old Spice, but the very worst thing about him, was how he would park his hearse around the corners, hiding it the shadows of the
cottonwood trees awaiting deaths knock at the doors of the gravely ill.
If you were about to die in Basin, the whole town knew it: the little kids, their parent, their grandmothers, their teachers, and the boys down at the pool hall or at the Stockman's bar. The town's only florist shop got ready for a big day. The long black death searcher couldn't hide deep enough into the shadows to avoid being seen by someone. The undertaker and his hearse made the adults leery, the children terrified and even the biggest member's of the Basin Bobcat football team would laugh real loud so people wouldn't notice them trembling
Naomi and Mr. Underwood were bitter enemies. He couldn't wait to get his hands on the dark haired temptress, and she was bound and very determined he would not get the pleasure of driving her to the funeral
parlor in his death-mobile. Her last drive would be in the flashy new county ambulance that the Basin City Council recently purchased.
Naomi Belton was an old widow lady that went to our church. She dyed her hair so black that it made midnight look bright. The rouge on her
cheeks so red they resembled those of a circus clown, but no one ever
said that to Naomi because she was "Money Talks" in Basin. There were
always rumors that poor Naomi became a kleptomaniac after her beloved
husband left his earthly home. No one said anything about that either
because she made up for any unknown or rumored sins she might have
committed by dedication to the church. Naomi was always doing the Lord's work. She sang slightly off key in the choir, she sewed angel or
shepherds costumes for the Christmas pageants, she was the Chairwomen
of the Methodist Women's Circle, and Naomi was the biggest contributor
to church's pledge drives.
Now none of the locals understood Naomi's insistence on not taking that
last ride with Underwood, but she confessed to Minister Dan that the
worse day of her life was the day her dear husband was picked up and
placed in that ungodly hearse by that cadaverous looking funeral director. Minister Dan, of course, relayed Naomi's feelings to his wife Martha and she in turn whispered it to the ladies of the church-before long the whole town knew of Naomi's feelings.
There was one good thing about Underwood, his customers always came out looking better than they looked before requiring his services, even babies looked more angelic after death than before. When people commented on this fact while attending the viewings, Underwood acknowledged these compliments with a listless smile on his washed out face saying, "I try to get Mr. or Mrs. so and so as quickly as I can after they expire, that way the decomposition is minimal." He would masquerade around like a Broadway actor at these times, enjoying his moment in the spot light, or should I say dark light.
The town of Basin was crisscrossed by small ditches that filled with water released from the canal each spring. Lawn watering and gardening
were easily achieved by merely damming up the ditches that ran in front
of everyone's property. On hot summer days kids would build dams and
float stick boats down the ditches. One day my brother Buddy and I were
busy playing World War II using dirt clods as bombs and almost missed
the hearse. I was about to damage my brother's fleet when he became
absolutely silent. I looked at him and followed his eyes as he looked in the direction of Naomi's house. We quickly alerted the other kids. None of us could figure out how we managed to missed it, but there it was, it all it's gory glory, parked around the corner from Naomi's, hiding in the shade of her cottonwoods. We figured it must of skirted around the bleachers at the ball park, hovered for awhile under the willow branches and waited for Doc Forsythe to get to Naomi's house. Then it moved in for the kill.
Even in normal circumstances the sight of the hearse made people
nervous. It was worse than normal though because only a short while
before we spotted the hearse at Naomi's, we heard the ambulance go out
on a call. We were all a dither now, knowing Naomi's wishes and all.
"Where did the ambulance go," we asked ourselves. "Why was there a call
today of all days?" "Why didn't anyone know Naomi was ill?" The answers
to our questions were not going to matter, that hearse was going to get
poor ole Naomi as sure as the Big Horn River rises each springtime.
We kids, along with not just a few adults, hid amongst the giant lilac bushes, that each April impregnate Basin with the smell of their flowers. We saw Doc Forsythe exit Naomi's house, round the corner, and shake his finger at the hearse. It was such an act of defiance that we all held our breath. We were sure Mr. Underwood would quickly dispel of the meddling M.D. Instead, he just drove the big Black hearse around the corner and parked directly in front of Naomi's home. He opened the door and exited the transporter of the dead.
He yelled, loud enough for all of us to hear, "Are you going to help me
retrieve the body of the Widow Belton , Doctor?"
"Certainly not, " answered Dr. Forsythe. "It was not my patients desire to be driven to the funeral home or anyplace else in your hearse, Underwood."
"But, my dear Doctor, " Underwood declared, "I am the County Coroner,
and in the absence of the County Ambulance, my hearse is the official
transportation of the recently lost. Now either you assist me or I shall be forced to call Sheriff Brinkerhoff to help me expedite this matter."
We watched as the Doc's shoulders dropped in defeat. We watched as they removed the steel bedded gurney from the rear of the hearse. We watched them wheel the gurney to the steps of Naomi's porch. We watched them enter the house and watched them return carrying Naomi's body right down the steps. We watched them lay her on that cold slab of steel, the Doctor looking haggard with his burden; the Undertaker looking positively alive with the touch of death in his hands.
As they were pushing the gurney towards the hearse one of Naomi's
neighbors, appearing quite faint, came up to the men and uttered,
"Clive is coming, Clive is coming."
Now Clive was the ambulance driver for Big Horn County. All the towns
people were very much in awe of Clive; you must be very brave to be an
ambulance driver. The neighbor spotted him arriving back into town as
he made his typical run through the main drag after returning from one
of his pickups. Clive was proud of his job.
If you've never seen an old undertaker move quickly, you should have
been there that day. You would never have believed how fast that
procurer of death could move. He literally pushed Naomi into the back
of the hearse, gurney and all. We were aghast with this show of strength and even more frightened of the man. Mr. Underwood then jumped into the driver's seat directly from the back of the hearse. He started that big old engine, however in his haste to escape Clive and the ambulance he threw the gears into reverse. Sure enough he got stuck in one of those irrigation ditches in front of Naomi's house.
We all got so dang excited that maybe there was a chance for Naomi after all, that we forgot we were scared and came out from undercover and began shouting, "Clive, Clive, Clive!"
As the undertaker tried desperately to loosen the ditches grasp on his
tires, he rocked the old hearse back and forth, back and forth. Slowly
the gurney began rolling backwards, gaining momentum whenever he rocked back and forth. Ever so slowly, the deathbed of Naomi Belton went
sailing out of the unclosed rear doors of the hearse. No one said a single word as Naomi flew off the gurney and landed face-up smack dab in the middle of the ditch.
Later, of course, after the hubbub died down, it was generally agreed
upon that Naomi Belton was the best damn ditch dam Basin ever had.
Bobbie Kilzer Gogain.
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