The crowd who showed up for Earl’s viewing wasn’t what Jacob expected.
There were the local business owners who had paid Earl to keep their front windows clean - that was expected.
Of course, Rob was there - people called him Earl’s apprentice. They expected Rob to take over the business now, but even Jacob, who had Earl clean the big window that faced Fourth Street, was considering just doing it himself. It would save him a few dollars a month.
“It’s already pretty dusty, “Jacob thought. Earl had been out of commission for a few weeks.
There was also Fr. McCarthy. Earl wasn’t Catholic, but people would usually say that he belonged to all the churches in the area. He at least cleaned their office windows.
There were a few family members who traveled from out of town and other states. That was all normal.
What was unexpected were the … odd ones. Jacob wasn’t sure what to call them.
When he unlocked the funeral home that afternoon, they were already there - 5 men and women, dressed in a variety of clothes, but all with the same intensity showing on their faces.
They didn’t look sad - it was more like worried. Like they were anxiously waiting for something.
They came in as soon as he had the lights on and gathered around Earl’s body.
Their clothes didn’t match; none of them were in the traditional black; but they all stared at Earl like they were waiting for him to sit up and greet them.
The other mourners filtered through over the two hours of visitation and gave polite condolences to the family, but the odd crew stayed right by the casket and didn’t talk to anyone but each other.
At seven, when the family left Jacob’s office and headed out to the Italian place down the street, Jacob went back to usher out any guests who had lingered behind, but the room was empty. He locked up, got in his truck and drove home.
Just before midnight, Jacob was back in front of the funeral home. Laying in bed next to his sleeping wife, he realized that he had forgotten to finish the paperwork for the Casimir funeral the next evening. It would be easier to do it now, than rush through it after the service in the morning, so here he was, in his office in the middle of the night.
It took Jacob an hour to get things where he wanted them. He was starting to nod off when the sound of conversation startled him completely awake. He took a few steps to his office door and listened down the hall. There were definitely voices coming from the room where Earl’s body had been on display.
When Jacob peeked around the doorway, he saw the same odd bunch of strangers standing in a line facing Earl. Between them and the casket, Rob was down on one knee.
”Do you accept this responsibility, Robert?” A tall man with long, brown hair was speaking. “These streets will be your charge and the fight that Earl our brother fought will be yours to fight.”
A woman in the group handed something to the man. Jacob leaned further into the room, and to his lasting astonishment, the tall man held up a squeegee. He held it like a precious, ancient sword - but it was an ordinary squeegee, the kind with a sponge on one side, and a rubber blade for wiping water on the other.
Rob bowed his head. “I accept the fight.”
Jacob saw the tall man touch Rob’s shoulders and then embrace him when he stood up. The rest of the group hugged Rob in turn.
Someone began speaking a prayer. Was that Fr. McCarthy making the sign of the cross over a plastic bucket?
Jacob decided that he had seen enough. This wasn’t his business and he didn’t think confronting some strange cult who had broken into his funeral home in the middle of the night was a great idea. He would wait for them to leave.
Standing out front, Jacob leaned against the window ledge with his hands in his pockets. He had seen some unique funeral customs, but this was new.
He looked back over his shoulder to see if they had wrapped things up and were leaving.
When he looked through the window, it wasn’t his hallway that he saw, and it wasn’t a reflection of Fourth Street at night.
In the wide pane of glass, he saw a dark, rocky landscape under a stormy sky, but what seized his attention was a pair of sickly, yellow eyes. He froze and held his breath.
The eyes were looking right at him.
Jacob slowly backed away from the window until he felt the driver’s side door of his truck. He couldn’t make out what the eyes belonged to, but he saw them follow his movement and settle into stillness. The stillness of a hunter preparing to pounce.
The tension Jacob felt only seemed to grow in that moment of silence. The attack was coming.
A wet splat made him suddenly aware that he wasn’t alone. Rob was there and he was using his squeegee to spread soapy water across the glass.
”You don’t have to … what?” Jacob stammered.
”It’s alright,” Rob said calmly while continuing to wash the window. There was no sign of the otherworldly landscape and the hunting eyes were gone.
”If you don’t keep up with these windows, they get pretty nasty,” said Rob. “Do you want me to keep up Earl’s old schedule? Once a week?”
“Yeah,” said Jacob. “I think that’s a good idea.”
———
Inspired by Ernest R. Hollinger Jr.
