Bill frowns.“Are you sure you want to know?It’s not a pretty process.”
I nod.“I do.It’s my father, damn it.I deserve to know.”
“Of course.”Bill peels the sheet off my father, exposing his chest.“First, they’ll disinfect him.Clean the skin with a germicidal solution to prevent the growth of bacteria.”
I nod silently, swallowing.
“Next,” Bill says, “they’ll set the features.Eyes and mouth need to be closed.”He lifts my father’s eyelids briefly and then releases them.“They’ll use cotton or eye caps beneath the lids to keep them from sinking.A suture or wire keeps the mouth closed.”
“Guess he won’t be running it off at campaign rallies anymore.”I chuckle weakly.
Bill doesn’t laugh.
“It’s about preservation.And dignity.Everything I’m doing and everything the funeral home will do is as your father requested.”
“Of course.He’d want his best foot forward.As if the”—air quotes—“mournerscould ever forget how he fucked this city over.”
“All any of us can do is our best with the information we’re given at the time, Maddox.”
I raise an eyebrow.Up to now, he’s called me by my last name.Why this sudden shift of tone?
“Anyway, what’s next?”
“The next part is a little gruesome.It’s not really something family members want to hear about.”
“Well, he disinherited me, so I’m not really family, am I?”
Bill sighs.“Fine.They’ll drain the body of blood and make an incision, starting with the carotid artery.”He places a finger over my father’s throat.“Then they’ll attach the embalming machine to the incision.As the blood drains through the jugular, the machine replaces it with embalming fluid, mostly formaldehyde.”
My own blood feels like it’s draining out of my own face at his words, but my curiosity pulls me back for more.“And then?”
“Then there are the organs.Your father wasn’t a donor, so they’ll remain in his body.”
“Of course he wasn’t.Selfish bastard.”
“Even in death, an individual maintains authority over his own body.”Bill pulls out a silver surgical instrument with a three-sided cutting point enclosed in a tube.“This is a trocar.It’s used to pierce the abdominal cavity and drain it of all fluids and gases.Otherwise, the body will swell.Gases will rupture the organs.”
“That’d definitely ruin the funeral.”
“I understand that you’re using humor to cope with your father’s death, but please try to remain respectful.A man is dead.”
I smirk.“A man who ruined the lives of half the people in this city.I’m sure your job was secure.All those homeless overdoses probably gave you lots of work.”
“Mr.Hathaway?—”
“Shove it.I’m allowed to process my father’s death in the manner of my choosing.After the organs, what’s next?”
Bill frowns.“Then just a little makeup, and they’ll dress him.I assume you have an outfit in mind?”
I stifle a grin.“I do.”
“Then you’ll need to drop it off at the mortuary tomorrow.”
“Got it.”I scan my father’s still form.“Can I… Can I have a moment alone with him?”
“Of course.Just let me know when you’re finished.”
He leaves the room, leaving me alone with the remains of Henry Hathaway, disgraced former mayor of Chicago.
