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"My Coworker Showed Up For His Opening Shift, the Day After His Funeral"
"My Coworker Showed Up For His Opening Shift, the Day After His Funeral"
This happened to me a few years ago when I wasworking for a small-time administration office asa security guard.The building had just been purchased by thecompany and was in a sad state of disrepair, sowhile there were no actual employees working inthe building at the time, we had to be there tooversee some of the contractors that were workingon the place.It was a small team consisting of Jake, Miguel andmyself.
While we didn’t know each other prior to workingthere, the long hours meant that we got to knoweach other pretty quickly.
Jake would tell us about his wife and kids andMiguel would talk about his life growing up inColumbia. All in all, they were really cool guys.Heck, we even met up for beers on the weekendssometimes.
* * * * * *
It was six days to Christmas day when Miguel and Ireceived a call from head office.
They told us that Jake wouldn’t be coming inbecause he had been taken to the hospital theprevious night with chest pains.
Since he was only in this early thirties, Migueland I assumed it was just a panic attack orsomething; but then later that day we got the newsthat he had passed away at the hospital from amassive heart attack.
The rest of the day was glum, to say the least. Weasked if we could go home early, as we both hadbecome close to Jake; but we were told to stayuntil the plumber left.
* * * * * *
Two days later I called Jake’s house looking forfuneral information. The day after that bothMiguel and I carpooled to the church to attend.
The ceremony was deeply catholic, which was alittle strange and foreign to me since I’vealways been an atheist, but Miguel seemed to beright at home so I kept it to myself.
When the funeral was over we went to the graveyardand watched them lower Jake’s casket into theground. Then after giving out condolences to hisgrieving widow and children, returned home.
* * * * * *
That night I had trouble sleeping. I always dowhen I drink heavily before hitting the hay.
Weirdly, I kept having dreams about our weekendbar visits with Jake and even though everythingabout it was normal, Jake included; I knew in theback of my mind he was dead and therefore thewhole situation was wrong.
As if to assure me that everything was fine, inthe dreams Jake was super attentive to me.
“What’s wrong? You don’t look so well,” hewould say.
* * * * * *
The next day I considered phoning in sick due tothe hangover, but decided against it because I gotword that Miguel had already called to say hewould be staying home. I knew that security guardswere easy to come by in the current economy, so Iwent in to save face.
With Christmas drawing near, there was unlikely tobe any workers scheduled to come in so I stoppedfor a coffee on my way.
When I arrived I was surprised to find another carin the massive parking lot.
It was snowing pretty hard so I didn’t get agood look at it until I parked myself andapproached the building.
It was Jake’s car.
Even though it was strange, I shrugged it off.After all, I figured it was just Jake’s wifemaybe here to collect some of his work things.Through the haze of the hangover that seemed aslikely as anything.
* * * * * *
But when I found the building locked up tight, Idid steal a glance back at the car before pushinginto the main entryway. It was dark as all thelights were off except for an exit sign which casta red glow over the scaffolding and tools strewnabout.
I moved behind the security desk and booted up thesystem so I could take a cursory look at thecameras.
While it booted up I took my jacket off and hungit up on the back of my chair and began to sip atmy coffee.
Once the ten different views popped up on thescreen I began to scrutinize them one at a time.
About halfway through the various views, somethingmoved onto the last camera sights and then quicklyout again and I barely caught it out of the cornerof my eye.
The last camera was set up in our shipping andreceiving warehouse at the back of the buildingwhich was a small trek down a long hallway with nowindows or doors and around a corner.
Sighing, I got up and turning the light system on;journeyed down the hallway with my coffee in hand.
* * * * * *
The shipping room was a total mess from the allthe construction garbage that they had beenloading into dumpsters in the back of the buildingand there was less light due to the reliance onthe large windows and the dreary morning.
I moved in a full circle around the room, lookingfor a raccoon or something that may have slippedin to get out of the cold. But what I found was awhole lot of nothing, and a microwave the workershad set up for reheating their lunches.“Hello?” I called out for good measure.“Mrs. Galloway?” I added in case it wasJake’s wife.
When there was no answer I was about to turnaround and leave when I heard footsteps comingtowards me down the long hallway.
Thinking that it must be a worker or maybeJake’s wife answering my call out, I moved backthat way.
As I reached the end of the shipping and receivingdoors, a figure moved around the corner from thelong hallway. I couldn’t believe my eyes andneither could my hands apparently as the coffeejust slipped right out from my grasp splashing thehot liquid all over my sneakers.
There, standing in his security uniform; was Jake.
He was pale even without the help of harshfluorescent light and his normally bright blueeyes were glazed over and unfocused.
I opened my mouth to make a noise of astonishmentbut my voice caught in my throat as his mouth fellopen.
His tongue lolled down over his bluish lips,wiggling like a worm and his eyes suddenly snappedto focus on me. “What’s wrong?” He slurredlike a drunk man.
I began to tremble and instinctively movebackwards as the smell of rot and compost hit mynose.
Jake’s tongue retracted slowly back into hismouth as his face began to droop on the rightside, his nostrils flaring up to triple theirnormal size.
“You don’t look well,” he stammered in adesperate almost yelling tone as he took a shakystep towards me.
“Jake… Jake, you’re dead,” was all I couldmanage in a shaky whisper.
“What’s wrong?” He asked again, takinganother shaky step as his face began to droop moreand more.
I tried to scream but it came out as a low groanas Jake drew closer, his face looking more like aloose-fitting Halloween mask than an actual face.
He reached his hands out for me as it to embraceme in a hug as he gargled: “You don’t look sowell.”
I ducked as his hands closed in and sprintedpassed him and out of the room.
Although I didn’t look back until I was in mycar and speeding away, the whole way down thathallway I could hear his voice as if it was rightbehind me: “What’s wrong? You don’t look sowell.”
* * * * * *
I quit the job that night and advised Miguel to dothe same. When I looked into it I discovered thatJake’s grave was untouched and that his car hadnever left the driveway where he left it at home.I still don’t know what he would have done if hehad grabbed me. After all, we were good buddiesand I can’t imagine that he would do anything tohurt me.
I worry to this day that he was actually the onein pain, scared; just reaching out for a familiarface. But I don’t regret running.
I’ve made it a habit of leaving flowers on hisgrave every year around Christmas time, generallythe day after I have that same dream of the threeof us back in the bar. While seeing him every yearlike that makes me uneasy, I’m just happy thathis face is back to normal.
While we didn’t know each other prior to workingthere, the long hours meant that we got to knoweach other pretty quickly.
Jake would tell us about his wife and kids andMiguel would talk about his life growing up inColumbia. All in all, they were really cool guys.Heck, we even met up for beers on the weekendssometimes.
* * * * * *
It was six days to Christmas day when Miguel and Ireceived a call from head office.
They told us that Jake wouldn’t be coming inbecause he had been taken to the hospital theprevious night with chest pains.
Since he was only in this early thirties, Migueland I assumed it was just a panic attack orsomething; but then later that day we got the newsthat he had passed away at the hospital from amassive heart attack.
The rest of the day was glum, to say the least. Weasked if we could go home early, as we both hadbecome close to Jake; but we were told to stayuntil the plumber left.
* * * * * *
Two days later I called Jake’s house looking forfuneral information. The day after that bothMiguel and I carpooled to the church to attend.
The ceremony was deeply catholic, which was alittle strange and foreign to me since I’vealways been an atheist, but Miguel seemed to beright at home so I kept it to myself.
When the funeral was over we went to the graveyardand watched them lower Jake’s casket into theground. Then after giving out condolences to hisgrieving widow and children, returned home.
* * * * * *
That night I had trouble sleeping. I always dowhen I drink heavily before hitting the hay.
Weirdly, I kept having dreams about our weekendbar visits with Jake and even though everythingabout it was normal, Jake included; I knew in theback of my mind he was dead and therefore thewhole situation was wrong.
As if to assure me that everything was fine, inthe dreams Jake was super attentive to me.
“What’s wrong? You don’t look so well,” hewould say.
* * * * * *
The next day I considered phoning in sick due tothe hangover, but decided against it because I gotword that Miguel had already called to say hewould be staying home. I knew that security guardswere easy to come by in the current economy, so Iwent in to save face.
With Christmas drawing near, there was unlikely tobe any workers scheduled to come in so I stoppedfor a coffee on my way.
When I arrived I was surprised to find another carin the massive parking lot.
It was snowing pretty hard so I didn’t get agood look at it until I parked myself andapproached the building.
It was Jake’s car.
Even though it was strange, I shrugged it off.After all, I figured it was just Jake’s wifemaybe here to collect some of his work things.Through the haze of the hangover that seemed aslikely as anything.
* * * * * *
But when I found the building locked up tight, Idid steal a glance back at the car before pushinginto the main entryway. It was dark as all thelights were off except for an exit sign which casta red glow over the scaffolding and tools strewnabout.
I moved behind the security desk and booted up thesystem so I could take a cursory look at thecameras.
While it booted up I took my jacket off and hungit up on the back of my chair and began to sip atmy coffee.
Once the ten different views popped up on thescreen I began to scrutinize them one at a time.
About halfway through the various views, somethingmoved onto the last camera sights and then quicklyout again and I barely caught it out of the cornerof my eye.
The last camera was set up in our shipping andreceiving warehouse at the back of the buildingwhich was a small trek down a long hallway with nowindows or doors and around a corner.
Sighing, I got up and turning the light system on;journeyed down the hallway with my coffee in hand.
* * * * * *
The shipping room was a total mess from the allthe construction garbage that they had beenloading into dumpsters in the back of the buildingand there was less light due to the reliance onthe large windows and the dreary morning.
I moved in a full circle around the room, lookingfor a raccoon or something that may have slippedin to get out of the cold. But what I found was awhole lot of nothing, and a microwave the workershad set up for reheating their lunches.“Hello?” I called out for good measure.“Mrs. Galloway?” I added in case it wasJake’s wife.
When there was no answer I was about to turnaround and leave when I heard footsteps comingtowards me down the long hallway.
Thinking that it must be a worker or maybeJake’s wife answering my call out, I moved backthat way.
As I reached the end of the shipping and receivingdoors, a figure moved around the corner from thelong hallway. I couldn’t believe my eyes andneither could my hands apparently as the coffeejust slipped right out from my grasp splashing thehot liquid all over my sneakers.
There, standing in his security uniform; was Jake.
He was pale even without the help of harshfluorescent light and his normally bright blueeyes were glazed over and unfocused.
I opened my mouth to make a noise of astonishmentbut my voice caught in my throat as his mouth fellopen.
His tongue lolled down over his bluish lips,wiggling like a worm and his eyes suddenly snappedto focus on me. “What’s wrong?” He slurredlike a drunk man.
I began to tremble and instinctively movebackwards as the smell of rot and compost hit mynose.
Jake’s tongue retracted slowly back into hismouth as his face began to droop on the rightside, his nostrils flaring up to triple theirnormal size.
“You don’t look well,” he stammered in adesperate almost yelling tone as he took a shakystep towards me.
“Jake… Jake, you’re dead,” was all I couldmanage in a shaky whisper.
“What’s wrong?” He asked again, takinganother shaky step as his face began to droop moreand more.
I tried to scream but it came out as a low groanas Jake drew closer, his face looking more like aloose-fitting Halloween mask than an actual face.
He reached his hands out for me as it to embraceme in a hug as he gargled: “You don’t look sowell.”
I ducked as his hands closed in and sprintedpassed him and out of the room.
Although I didn’t look back until I was in mycar and speeding away, the whole way down thathallway I could hear his voice as if it was rightbehind me: “What’s wrong? You don’t look sowell.”
* * * * * *
I quit the job that night and advised Miguel to dothe same. When I looked into it I discovered thatJake’s grave was untouched and that his car hadnever left the driveway where he left it at home.I still don’t know what he would have done if hehad grabbed me. After all, we were good buddiesand I can’t imagine that he would do anything tohurt me.
I worry to this day that he was actually the onein pain, scared; just reaching out for a familiarface. But I don’t regret running.
I’ve made it a habit of leaving flowers on hisgrave every year around Christmas time, generallythe day after I have that same dream of the threeof us back in the bar. While seeing him every yearlike that makes me uneasy, I’m just happy thathis face is back to normal.
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