A Penny Down the Well: A Short Story Collection of Horrifying Events by J. A. Crook

the box from the dolly and moved
around to the back of the hearse. They stood there for a minute
before Larry shouted, “Hey! You just gonna stand there all day and
play with yourself or are you gonna open the hatch?” His voice
struggled with the weight.
    Clint moved hastily then,
opening the door for the two men, which quickly shoved the weak
wooden box into the back of the hearse, locked it down and closed
the door. Larry, breathing heavily now, walked past Clint and gave
him a slap on the shoulder. “Have fun, kid.” And they went on into
the building, closing the large door behind them.
    Clint looked into the
shaded window of the hearse to observe the box. As he had felt
before that disturbing medal atop the military man’s casket was
disrespectful to the dead, the ushering of the person inside of a
casket of such poor quality seemed equally contemptible, if not
much worse. Clint hoped that should he have an experience with
whatever was in it, the entity wouldn’t be upset about the
conditions.
    Clint reached into his
pocket, retrieved his phone and dialed Marie. When she answered
with a simple “hello” Clint began. “I’ve made the pickup.” It
sounded like a ridiculous espionage mission. “What now?” Marie
informed Clint that he would be taking the body to site 4742A. She
instructed that the funeral booth attendant would be able to get
him going in the right direction. The booth reminded Clint of the
short stops they made while entering the cemetery, where things
first went awry. After receiving the directions, Clint got in the
hearse, joined his passenger and drove to the cemetery with much
less majesty than was normal with the motorcade.
    When Clint arrived at the
cemetery, a car sat in front of him at the booth causing him to
have to wait for a short time behind it. Clint looked over his
shoulder at the simple casket and spoke out in its direction,
“Probably not how you expected things to go, huh?” And he turned
away as the car in front of him pulled off. “Alone, with no one
that cares. No one to miss you.” It brought Clint to think about
how lonely his life was, short of Kaylie. He didn’t have much. He
pulled up to the booth. An old woman smiled, lips red and bright.
She reminded him of Maggie Wilcox.
    “ Hey there, dear! What can
I do for you?” She asked.
    Clint gestured back with a
thumb to the casket. “Delivering this fellow to 4742A. Mind telling
me how to get out that way?” And Clint said “fellow” unsure if it
was in fact a man or a woman. Sadly, at this point, it was simply a
box and nothing more. Clint thought maybe this was the beginning of
the detachment he’d seen in Larry and Morton.
    The woman smiled and
offered him a map. She explained where he was, then circled the
location he was going to with a large red marker. Clint smiled and
accepted the map appreciatively, getting on his way. As he drove
through the cemetery, Clint’s anxiety kicked in. Nothing had
happened, but the memories of what had, regardless of the mostly
innocent encounters, incited fear which transpired in a nervous
sweat at his forehead. Clint went around each bend carefully,
keeping an eye on the map when he needed to, then to the road to be
aware of pedestrians or other vehicles. The cemetery was much more
quiet than normal, and that was probably because it was a weekday.
No one had to be at a funeral. No one had to worry about a
scheduling conflict with the burial of the deceased. Clint
estimated he was close to the burial site. It was off to his left
according to the map. His eyes narrowed a bit on the relative
location then back to the map. He, again, called Marie.
    “ Marie.
I’m here. Is someone supposed to be here to take the casket? Seems
pretty qui — ” And Clint looked back toward the gravesite, catching a
glimpse of something he hadn’t before. It brought him to push
closer to the driver’s side window while Marie spoke, saying
something about “Larry and Morton should be