novelraw Chapter 31: A Discount
Chapter 31: A Discount
The cold was growing stronger.
It was not the dull chill of late autumn, nor the hesitant beginning of winter. Rather, true winter had settled in. On days like this, when the wind held itself back, the warmth of the sunlight was far more hospitable than the shadowy cold that filled every room.
Paul and Ron sat outside in the yard, each on a low stool. The previous month had been relentless. There had been times they had joked about squeezing onto the gurneys beside their “guests,” just to steal a nap. At last, a fragile quiet had returned.
They knew, of course, that these leisurely days would not last. The two of them had worked at the funeral home long enough to understand the pattern. As the season pressed on, many of the elderly would not make it past the final, cruel push from winter and into early spring. Some, perhaps, had braced themselves for autumn’s arrival, or had steeled their wills for the year’s turning, but when the cold grew absolute and the body was asked to endure beyond its limits, most could only yield. In the end, the seasons swept them along, briskly and efficiently, like an invisible broom sweeping them into the end of their lives.
Ron leaned back, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he idly passed playing cards through his fingers. He occasionally muttered about a lucky hand he’d squandered the night before, or how it was a shame that he hadn’t won more.
Paul sat with a book on electrical work, occasionally halting to scribble notes in the margins.
Karon entered the courtyard, carrying a pig’s head in his arms.
“Hey, Young Master, what’re we eating today?” Ron immediately popped up and sauntered over. Ever since Karon had recovered enough to get out of bed, the daily work preparing the family meals had become extravagant. Every noon introduced dishes Ron had never eaten before, nor even heard of. One bite after another, it was pure bliss.
Paul also closed his book and looked up.
“Ron, grab a basin for me, would you? Fill it with water.”
“Sure thing, Young Master.”
Few people truly mind lending a good cook a hand.
Ron soon returned with the basin, filled to the rim. A yawning Aunt Mary emerged from the living room, handing Karon a small gas torch as she passed. He accepted it with a smile. “I wouldn’t have guessed we kept one of these around the house.”
He lit the torch and began to burn the bristles off the pig head as Aunt Mary watched with interest. “Some of our guests arrive with plenty of body hair, so there are times you need one of those to prepare them.”
Karon looked up, his curiosity creeping in. “Isn’t more hair supposed to be a good thing? It makes a man look manlier?”
“Not all hair grows in the right places,” Aunt Mary replied, her tone worldly and unflinching. “Some crops up... where no one wants to see it. It can be unsettling.”
Karon smiled, still carefully singeing the bristles away as Aunt Mary continued, “Some men think that being hairy is a mark of masculinity. They think it gives them some sort of charm, but none of them notice their own stench. Even in death, that smell lingers. Their wives have usually been repulsed for years, and while nothing can be done while those men are alive, but once the man’s gone, his widow will insist that every last bit of that hair is stripped off during the preparations.”
“For appearance’s sake?”
“No. Out of spite, I think.”
“Such enviable affection,” Karon said dryly.
“Well, most husbands die before their wives, don’t they?” Aunt Mary adjusted her hair. “Plenty of men marry much younger women. If having their body hair removed after death means there was some grudge, then at least it shows that someone cared. Still, you see all types; Wives who bring their lovers to the memorial is not exactly unheard of, either.”
If the departed’s family lived nearby and things weren’t too busy, death, burial, and the memorial could all occur within just three days.
“That’s why I don’t believe in love anymore,” said Ron.
Karon glanced over. “What about your nurse from the sanatorium?”
Ron tipped his head back and let out a groan. “Don’t bring her up! She’s been nothing but heartbreak!”
“You never managed to win her over? Last I heard, you two were going to the movies.”
“We did go. Six times, even.”
“And what about the popcorn? Did you at least share some?” Karon asked.
“We licked every finger clean,” Ron said. “And each time, since the sanatorium was closed for the night, I had no choice but to take her to a little inn to rest.”
Karon set the torch aside and took up a knife to start shaving the pig head. “That must have felt wonderful, right? Watching films together, doing everything you hoped to. Weren’t you planning to propose?”
“I told her I’d give up drinking and cards, and that I’d work hard to bring home every bit of my pay. She was touched.”
“And then?”
“The day before I was going to propose, one of the patients, an old man, proposed to her just as he was about to leave. She left with him.”
“That’s truly a sad story.”
“Tell me about it! My heart was shattered. I still can’t accept it. I lost to an old man.”
“No, Ron. You lost to money.”
“Yeah, you’re right, but that doesn’t feel any different. My fiancée left me in an instant.”
“Then think about it like this: she was someone else’s fiancée, but you got to go watch all those movies with her before she got married.”
Ron turned this over in his mind for a moment. Gradually, a smile spread across his face. “Now that you put it that way, Young Master, maybe I ended up being the one to make out ahead after all.”
“Exactly.”
At that, Paul’s voice cut in, “Young Master, Madam, there’s something I’d like to ask.”
“Go ahead.” Karon kept carefully shaving thin slices from the pig’s head, his appetite sharpened by memory and longing. In his previous life, his hometown had been the home of few true delicacies, yet of those few dishes, pig’s head, rich and fatty, yet never cloying, had been one of the best.
Since Karon had taken command of the kitchen, the household’s palate had quietly shifted. No one was amazed by the Chinese cuisine, but his meals had at least shown them how dull their tables had once been.
Paul cleared his throat. “If I wanted to get a little closer to a young lady, what should I say to her?”
“Take her to a movie!” Ron called out. “The evening shows!”
Paul ignored the suggestion.
Aunt Mary laughed. “It’s that girl from the Kersey family, isn’t it?”
Paul nodded, suddenly a bit shy. “Yes, Madam. Thank you.”
Paul owed his pairing to Aunt Mary. Miss Kersey’s father was a woodworker at the coffin factory. The family was unremarkable, but upright and honest.
Aunt Mary would never choose to match Ron with such a girl, but for Paul, whose reputation was solid, she had been happy to play matchmaker.
“Have you met her parents?” Aunt Mary asked.
“I have. Her father’s kind, and her mother’s warm, and my own mother is also very fond of her. We’ve decided on spring for the wedding.”
Karon understood. All of the practical matters had already been settled. What Paul was stumbling with was the final step, the question of how to share a bed.
Such a thing was not an occasion for laughter. Some people saw love simply as a path to the bedroom, while others, out of duty or a sense of propriety, insisted that things proceed in the right order, only to find themselves embarrassed when sincerity and shyness collided.
Karon lifted the pig’s head, examining it as though looking for answers as he said, “Paul, you could ask if she’d like to look at the moon from the window in your room.”
Aunt Mary shot Karon a look as if she was seeing a ghost, and then suddenly rapped her knuckles on the pig head. “Did your uncle teach you that one?”
Karon blinked. “No.”
“Honest?”
“Truly.”
Aunt Mary snorted. “Of course, all you Immers men are the same! Your uncle said those exact same words to me once, claiming his room was high enough to admire the moon. Next thing I knew, we’d admired our way to Mina, and then to Lent.”
A chuckle escaped Karon.
Aunt Mary looked at Paul. “Really, this is quite simple. If she likes you, you could tell her you keep an elephant in your room and she’d want to see it.”
Paul rubbed his head, unease showing. “You think that’ll work?”
Aunt Mary barked a cold laugh. “She’s already your fiancée. Do you really think she’ll run and call the police afterward? What would she even say? ‘Officer, my dreadful fiancé forced me into the bed!’ If that were a crime, that lot from the Berai Church would have already been hauled off and shot.”
Karon nearly reminded his aunt that coercion was still immoral, and illegal, even within marriage, but then he reconsidered. The law, at least for at the moment, had likely not evolved far enough to agree with him.
At just that moment, a line of students streamed past the gate to the street, carrying banners. Most of them were not yet grown, being only in middle or high school.
One student at the head of the group called out, “We want environmental protection!”
The others echoed, “We want environmental protection!”
“We want fresh air!”
“Fresh air!”
“We want clean rivers!”
“Clean rivers!”
Everyone in the yard watched in silence as the students passed, the young voices echoing in the quiet afternoon. Karon was quietly surprised; Were environmental campaigns really so much a part of daily life already?
Ron pinched his throat, lowering his voice, “We want rupi.”
It was a weekday, which meant that the passing children outside must be skipping class.
Aunt Mary glanced at Karon. “Karon, did Mina or Lent mention anything about this to you?”
She did not even wait for his answer. “Of course, they wouldn’t. Why would they bring children’s business with you?”
Karon was barely older than Mina, but ever since his illness and slow recovery, Uncle Mason had often joked that he felt he should be the one calling Karon “uncle.” The truth was, the family no longer saw Karon as a child.
“What is it, Aunt?” he asked.
“That environmental girl from Veyn came to Swillen the day before yesterday,” Aunt Mary said.
“Delyss?” Karon remembered seeing that name in the newspapers. The girl was known for championing environmental causes and was immensely popular among Veyn’s youth.
The mayoral race in Roja City was approaching election day. The challenger’s platform centered on environmental reform, and judging by the coverage, Delyss’s visit was likely intended to earn public support.
Or, depending on how one looked at it, it was just another celebrity appearance.
Paul said, “Environmental protection is a good thing, isn’t it?”
Aunt Mary shot the man a look and gestured at the students who were already disappearing down the street. “They don’t know a thing about environmental protection,” she stated coolly. “They just don’t want to be in class.”
***
Karon carried the pig’s head up to the second-floor kitchen to prepare lunch. The main course would be lentil rice, but since he already had the pig’s head, he went light on the meat in the rice itself. The sides would be steamed eggs, eggplant with garlic sauce, and seaweed egg drop soup. Karon also added a few spring rolls, knowing how much his family liked them.
Once everything was ready, Tiz took the seat at the head of the table. Aunt Mary, Aunt Winnie, Paul, and Ron gathered around for the meal. Uncle Mason was out for the day, treating the auction official for the Hughes Crematorium to a meal, though he had also asked Karon to set aside a portion for him. His younger cousins were at school.
Cooking for his family granted him a deep sense of satisfaction, like tending and feeding a pen of pigs.
Karon went downstairs to fill the golden retriever’s bowl with kibble. He also set a plate of small, braised fish in front of Pu’er, as well as a cup of coffee.
The dog eyed the cat’s meal, his nose twitching and mouth watering, but he didn’t dare try his luck.
Pu’er took a slow sip of coffee, and then contentedly began to eat. Karon had come to the feline’s odd routines. As he headed back upstairs, he crossed paths with Tiz. “Lunch was very good, especially the pig head. There’s church business this afternoon, so I need to leave early.”
“Take care, Grandpa.”
Tiz nodded, and Karon climbed to the second floor, where he found Ron and Paul sprawled across their seats, rubbing their full bellies. Aunt Mary and Aunt Winnie were already drinking tea.
“Aunt Mary, Aunt Winnie, you shouldn’t drink tea right after eating; It’s not good for digestion,” Karon reminded them.
“Oh, is that so?” Aunt Mary hesitated, but then set her cup down.
“Karon, aren’t you eating?” Aunt Winnie asked.
“I’m full from tasting while cooking.” Karon began to clear the table.
“We’ll do that; Let us help,” Aunt Winnie insisted as she stood to assist.
The phone rang downstairs, and Aunt Mary went to answer it. Her voice echoed from below, “Hans Hospital!”
After a morning in the sun and a heavy meal, Ron and Paul roused themselves and hurried down. Karon wiped his hands, grabbed his coat, and followed them. Each trip called for three people. Normally, it was Mason and two helpers, but in his absence, Karon was always the one to step in.
Paul went to warm up the hearse while Ron fetched the gurney. Karon gathered the Immers Funeral Home pamphlets and the price sheets. Time is life. Time is money.
They quickly got in the car, and the hearse pulled onto the road, heading for Hans Hospital.
***
Hans Hospital was fifteen minutes away from Mink Street. Upon arrival, Paul and Ron stayed with the car. Karon straightened his collar, tucked the pamphlet bag under an arm, and walked into the building. He found the head nurse, who was their usual point of contact. She looked up as he approached. “The patient is being resuscitated, but I doubt they’ll make it.”
Karon took a seat alone on a bench outside of the operating room to wait. A few seats away, several anxious family members clung to hope.
Karon kept his distance. There was no particular reason, aside from his fear of being targeted by their grief. He sat quietly, his back straight, as if preparing for an interview.
In a sense, he was. Over the years, this routine had become familiar. Someone from the Immers family would arrive early, and then wait for instructions while families clung to whatever hope they could muster. Some might call it callous to sit there, ready to begin work while others were praying for a loved one’s life. Yet if the brutal necessity of other trades was considered, such as the daily slaughter in kitchens or abattoirs, it all amounted to the same thing. It was simply the way of things.
A stretcher rolled in from outside. Parents walked close at either side, murmuring encouragement to their daughter as she was taken to the operating room. She was heading into surgery, and the risks were palpable.
As the stretcher rolled past, the little girl turned to give Karon a shy, uncertain smile.
Even as children, people are instinctively drawn to what they find beautiful. Little boys gravitate towards attractive women, while little girls light up at the sight of a handsome man. This simple preference is natural in youth, and it doesn’t fade with age; It merely learns how to hide.
Karon smiled back, offering a small gesture of encouragement. A glow returned in the girl’s cheeks as she was wheeled away.
Another half hour slipped by, and then the doctor assigned to Karon’s “client” emerged from the operating room and pulled off his mask. “The patient was saved.”
Cheers erupted. Thanks were offered to God. A mother collapsed in relief, crying with something between disbelief and gratitude. The voices tangled together in the corridor. All sense of order was gone.
Karon showed no sign of disappointment. He simply stood and stretched slightly to work the stiffness from his back. Sitting upright for so long had left his limbs numb.
He quietly turned to leave, but as he did, the lights in the corridor flickered out.
“The power’s out! The power’s out!”
“Where’s the backup!”
“Start the generator! Quickly, get the power back on!”
A surgeon burst out from the little girl’s operating room, his voice strained. “Get the power back, quickly! We’re in the middle of surgery!”
Panic suddenly filled the corridor again.
Word returned that the hospital’s backup generator had malfunctioned, which meant that power would not be restored anytime soon.
More news soon followed: the environmental girl, Delyss, had organized a student march, and they had surrounded a coal-fired power plant. The idealistic protesters had clashed with plant workers, and the confrontation had ultimately led to the power being cut.
Karon stood in the corridor. He watched as the little girl’s father paced back and forth, quickly signing various documents with trembling hands as her mother sobbed nearby. Doctors rushed in and out of the operating room. Even behind their masks, Karon could read the signs: the situation was not improving.
He glanced at the bench he’d sat on earlier, and at the briefcase still in his hand. He told himself that he should sit back down, but could not bring himself to do it. Instead, he remained standing where he was.
Nearby, a routine surgery had suddenly become a desperate fight for life.
Time stretched on. He saw the hope drain from the girl’s mother, watched as her expression grew empty and numb.
Again and again, the father broke the hospital’s rules by trying to light a cigarette. His hands shook too badly for the flame to catch, and the lighter slipped from his fingers to clatter onto the floor.
Karon stepped forward, bringing out his own lighter and flicking it on for the man.
“Thank you! Thank you.” The man drew in a long drag, the smoke spilling from his lips between uneven breaths. Out of habit, almost reflexively, he asked in a hollow voice, “What do you do?”
“Pharmaceutical representative.”
“Oh. Oh, I see.” As the man smoked, he never looked away from the operating room doors, as if afraid they might disappear the moment he blinked.
Eventually, the electricity returned. No one knew if it was because the power plant had resumed operations, or if the hospital’s backup generator had finally come online.
That was when the doctor emerged once more. He walked straight for the girl’s father. “I’m sorry.”
“No...” The girl’s mother crumpled to the floor where she stood, her legs having given out beneath her.
The father slid down to the cold tile floor, his knees striking first as his body folded in on itself.
Karon walked back to the bench and sat down. He had always believed himself to be accustomed to corpses. At home, he worked alongside Aunt Mary every day, trading dry jokes above the dead. He had become convinced that such exposure had hardened him, and that he had built up some kind of immunity.
It was not true.
The core of things was not found in the stillness of life, nor in the finality of death, but in that silent, irreversible moment when one crossed over to the other.
Daylight slowly faded into dusk.
Due to the earlier blackout, all surgeries scheduled for the afternoon had been canceled. The doctor recognized Karon’s profession, so the girl’s body was not sent to the morgue.
The girl’s mother had collapsed into her husband’s arms. Neither of them spoke.
Karon remained in his seat, not moving.
The head nurse first knelt beside the parents, her voice gentle as she offered them comfort. She then gestured at Karon. She had good intentions, especially toward the Immers family, but mistook Karon as being someone new to the work, believing him too young to approach clients directly. She was attempting to make the introduction.
The girl’s father pushed himself up and walked over. Karon met his gaze.
“What do you do?”
Karon hesitated. “Immers Funeral Home...”
Without warning, a fist slammed into his face. The impact knocked him sideways and into the bench.
“It’s you!” the man shouted, his voice cracking. “You cursed my daughter! You feed on our misery, you filth!”
Karon slowly sat back up, dazed by the blow. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and then straightened back up. He remained steady, as though he had not just been struck at all.
The father’s fist trembled in the air for a moment, then dropped. He turned away and returned to his wife, clinging to her tightly.
Outside, the sky continued to darken.
Karon stayed where he was. He had come for business, for money, for a client, but those reasons had long since stepped back.
He could have left. No one would have blamed him for walking away after being hit. However, the job had become something else: a duty.
After a long while, the girl’s father approached again, his wife leaning heavily against him. Karon looked up at them.
“Tell me again.” The man’s voice was hoarse. “What do you do?”
Karon worked his aching jaw. He forced a restrained, professional smile onto his face as he reached into his briefcase and drew out a thin brochure.
“Immers Funeral Home,” he stated quietly. “We offer your loved ones companionship at the end.”
***
“Young Master, your face?” Paul noticed the bruise blooming on Karon’s cheek.
“It’s nothing,” Karon replied, shaking his head.
Once the paperwork had been completed, Paul and Ron gathered the girl’s body into the hearse. Her parents followed behind in their own car, staying close all the way to Mink Street.
They would spend the night preparing. Only in that way could they half-convince themselves that their daughter remained nearby. It was like they were taking her out one last time, buying her some new clothes.
Ron glanced at the car behind them and licked his lips. “That’s a Santelan.”
He was trying to suggest that it would be a lucrative job, but upon seeing how quietly the young master was being, the man swallowed the rest of his thoughts.
The hearse stopped in front of the Immers home on Mink Street, and the Santelan pulled in behind it.
“Be careful when you carry her,” Karon said.
“Of course, Young Master.” Paul and Ron moved the gurney inside.
Aunt Mary and Aunt Winnie met the family at the door, offering comfort and explaining what would come next.
Karon lifted his sleeve up to shield his bruised face as he immediately headed upstairs. His body felt unbearably heavy. He just wanted to lie down, and hoped that the parents would not ask for counseling tonight.
“You’re back. Good job, Karon.” Mina handed him a glass of ice water. Karon preferred to avoid tea and coffee, accepting only water.
Mina noticed the bruise. “Your face?”
“It’s nothing.”
At that moment, the bedroom door opened and Lent stepped out, holding a protestor’s sign and grinning with excitement. “Karon! I joined the march Delyss organized! She’s incredible! Look, I even got her autograph!”
Karon froze.
“Karon?” Lent stepped closer, still smiling.
Without warning, Karon swung the glass, drenching Lent’s face with ice water. Splash.
“Karon... what—”
Karon struck his cousin. It was not with water this time, but with a hand, a sharp and sudden slap.
Lent fell to the floor, clutching his cheek as he stared up in shock and fear at his cousin’s bruised face.
Down the hall, the study door opened. Tiz stood there.
Mina rushed forward, pulling Lent to his feet. “Grandpa, it’s fine, it’s fine! We were just playing,” she said quickly.
Tiz glanced at Karon. “What happened?”
“He got a deserved beating.”
“Oh.” Tiz nodded, turned, and closed his study door again.
“Big Brother?” Mina called after Karon, but he didn’t answer her. She instead took Lent’s hand and led him upstairs.
“You’re grieving,” Pu’er said from the windowsill. “You’ll get used to it. Everything else, you can’t do.”
Karon shook his head, causing Pu’er to laugh softly. “You disagree?”
Karon braced his hands against the sill, searching for something solid.
“I’ll ask Aunt to give them a discount,” he finally said.