Casket Case

Today

“Thank you for calling Death,” a perky voice announces through the car’s speakers. “If you know your party’s extension, you may dial it at any time, followed by the pound key. For Accounting, press one—”

Garrett presses 1214# on his iPhone’s keypad and waits as his call is connected.

“Garrett,” Janine answers. “What can I do for you?”

“You can stop sending me to places called ‘Rabbittown.’?”

“It’s your region. Why are you calling? I see an appointment on your calendar.”

“Yes, I have an appointment, and the address in the file doesn’t come up on Google Maps. A little help here?”

“I don’t know what you think I can do if Google Maps can’t find it.”

Garrett sighs and pulls his car into an open parking spot across from what looks to be a coffee shop. This has been the first semblance of civilization in miles. “You don’t see anything in the file?”

“You have the address. That’s it.”

He leans his head back against the seat. He has never missed an appointment before. He doesn’t intend to start today. “I guess I’ll ask for directions.”

“Thank you for coming to that on your own.”

The line clicks, and the screen on his dash changes back to the radio menu. He checks his watch. He doesn’t have much time.

As he gets out of the car, he takes a moment to stretch his legs and assess his options. The coffee shop looks busy, and he doesn’t have time to worry about bystanders. He glances over his car to the business on the other side of the street.

The old wooden sign hanging over the door says “Rabbittown Casket Company.” He tilts his head, considering. A casket company shouldn’t have too many bystanders. Not live ones anyway.