Ellen looked surprised.“Why, of course.Can’t leave poor Francis there all on his own now, can we?”
“Why?”
“Oh.Yes.”Ellen picked up a quarter of a sandwich.“I do wish that Sharon wouldn’t be so stingy with the mayo.”She took a small bite, and once she’d chewed and swallowed, she took a hefty drink of bourbon.“It’s tradition for one thing, but most important, I have a feeling that Francis is bound to the house and not his remains.If we move his body to Hobonny, he won’t be able to follow.We have to get him to rejoin his remains so that he can make the trip.I would be so pleased if that were to happen.That way he could see his family home once more.”
“I guess that makes sense.”Mason frowned.“What is Gerald bound to then?”
“Me, of course.”Ellen pushed her glass towards Mason.“Would you pour me another dram please?”
Mason poured the drink.“When is all this supposed to happen?”he asked, waving his hand over the folder.
“As I said, I’d like for you to accompany me to the funeral home day after tomorrow to pick out the coffin.After that, I was hoping to make the final plans with you.”Ellen looked Mason in the eye.“The sooner the better, Mason.Please don’t drag this out any longer than it needs to.I can’t help but feel that Francis’ spirit may be in danger if he is allowed to stay much longer.His soul is squarely in your hands.”
* * * * *
“Where have you been, Mason?”Francis demanded, his hands on his hips.“I have been very concerned.”
“Can I at least go downstairs before you interrogate me?”
“Are you drunk?”
Mason stopped.“Yes.Yes, I am.I’m quite drunk.”He began to go down the stairs, holding onto the railing since he wasn’t very steady on his feet at the moment.
Francis appeared at the bottom of the steps.“Where were you to get so drunk so early in the day?I do not think I approve of such behavior.And may I please ask as to what you have done to your hair?This is quite strange behavior for you, Mason.”
“First off, I don’t think it’s any of your business where I was, but if you must know, I was at Ellen’s, and she got me drunk.”
Francis stood there a moment, his mouth slightly ajar.“My cousin Ellen?”
“Yes, and if you must know, she was just as drunk as I was.I think.That woman sure can drink.”
“Ellen?”
Mason stumbled towards his bedroom.“Yes.Your dear, sweet cousin got me plastered.”
Francis appeared in front of Mason as he was taking off his shirt.“May I ask why?”
“You may.”Mason flung his shirt towards the laundry hamper, or the cardboard box serving as one.“We were planning your funeral.”
“I see.”Francis slowly faded away, leaving Mason alone.
He kicked off his shoes and fell into bed where he quickly fell asleep, or passed out, which was more likely the case.
* * * * *
Mason woke up to shouting that seemed to be coming from the living room.He tried to cover his head with a pillow, but that didn’t keep his head from pounding.“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
He got up and stomped into the living room where he saw Francis and Gerald going at it.
“What the hell is going on in here?”he shouted, causing his head to pound even more.
“I will tell you.”Francis turned to face Mason.“This buffoon thinks he has the right to tell me what to do and when to do it!I will not be spoken to in this manner.”
“Buffoon!”Gerald had his fists in front of him.“If I weren’t dead, I’d show you a buffoon and it isn’t me!”
Francis turned on Gerald.“Why my cousin ever married you, I am sure I do not know.”
“Why you—”