surroundings.
Koesler studied the remarkable movement of her neck. Was she going to do a 360-degree turn, a la Linda Blair?
“See,” she continued, “you wear the shroud. But where are you?! Look at these statues. You should be where only a Star of David is hung. Oh, Moe, your
In one significant step, she closed the gap that separated her from her niece and her nephew. She bent at the knees, put her arms around David and Judith, and picked them up. Their feet no longer touched the ground. Effortlessly she carried the two to the spot she had just abandoned. She did not put them down as she explained to her brother that it surely could not have been the doing of his children that caused him to be lying here in the enemy’s camp.
Meanwhile, David and Judith, faces buried in Aunt Sophie’s cushiony breasts, were struggling for air. Fortunately, her bosom was firm enough that their faces had not disappeared entirely. Gradually, they worked their heads around enough so that they could breathe out of the sides of their mouths.
As Aunt Sophie continued her exculpation of Moe’s children, she began to sway back and forth. As this motion increased apace with her deepening emotions, her body began to bump the casket repeatedly until it began to rock gently-almost like a cradle.
David was the first of the two smothering youngsters to clear his profile from Sophie’s nonsuckling bosom. What he saw caused him to do a doubletake.
Pulling his head back far enough to see that his sister also had freed her air passages, he nodded toward the casket. “Look!”
Judith chose only to breathe again. It had become a luxury.
“Look!” David insisted.
Judith pulled her head free of Aunt Sophie’s hold. She looked. “His eyes are open!”
Their faces were only inches apart, so they had no trouble communicating.
“That’s right,” David, stunned, affirmed.
Judith tried to stay calm. She thought for a few moments. “Doesn’t this happen sometimes? I mean, people die in a certain position. Then, later, the body snaps back to that position. I never heard of one opening its eyes … but … it is possible, don’t you think?” Even with her own rationalization, she could not force herself to look again at those open eyes.
But David continued to observe. “Did you ever hear of a dead man blinking?” Fear was evident in David’s voice.
Judith, finding a strength she did not know she had, pushed herself totally free of Aunt Sophie’s grasp. “He’s alive!” she shrieked, drowning out even Sophie. “He’s alive! He’s alive! He’s alive!”
Others, with no real knowledge of what they were shouting about, took up the cry. “He’s alive!” “He’s alive!” So far only Judith and David had witnessed the marvel of the blinking eyes. Even Sophie didn’t know what this was all about. She was busy looking around at everything but her brother’s body.
Koesler, bewildered, stood rooted to his central location. He could not see what Green’s children saw.
Sophie, her niece, and her still-captive nephew, stood at the sanctuary side of the coffin. Everyone else occupied the body of the church.
At the crescendoing shouts of “He’s alive!” the crowd surged forward. As they moved, they began to press against the casket. The wheeled bier, along with its cargo, inched sideways directly into Sophie.
Slowly, Sophie slid down, with the casket inexorably pressing upon her. As she hit the floor, the bier tipped over and the body tumbled out of the casket and onto Sophie.
Moe, still in his shroud, and Sophie, still in her hat, were chest to chest, eyeball to eyeball. Moe blinked.
“He’s alive!” Sophie screamed. “He’s alive! He’s alive!”
And Moe, shroud and all, rolled off Sophie onto the floor.
By this time there was no possible way Koesler could get close to the scene. The pileup of bodies steadily increased as those in the rear continued to press forward. Those who had been in front were now mainly on the floor at the bottom of the pile.
Koesler stood rooted, murmuring, “Wow …! Wow …! Wow …!”
Pat Lennon extracted herself from the pile. She took a cellular phone from her purse and placed a brief call. She then made her way to Koesler’s side. “I called 911,” she said. “Don’t you think we should get these people out of this pile? Somebody’s liable to get hurt.”
“Yes, yes … good idea.” Koesler regained leadership.
The reestablishment of order became the prime concern. Those at the rear backed away and began peeling people from the pile. Eventually, everyone was upright. By general unspoken consensus, the crowd was giving way to the family and Koesler.
“Moe!” Margie said.
“Pop!” David said.
“Daddy!” Judith said.
“Dr. Green!” Koesler said.
“A miracle! A miracle! My eyes have seen the glory! A miracle!” Father Reichert said.
Koesler looked over his shoulder. The crowd had deferred to the only other priest present. Father Reichert’s wire-rimmed glasses were bent out of shape and sat askew on his face. His wispy hair was mussed. There was a wild look to his eyes. He was on his knees as he repeated, “A miracle! Now you may dismiss your servant in peace! A miracle!”
As fascinating as was Father Reichert’s reaction, especially considering his earlier attitude toward this wake, Koesler had weightier matters to consider. But before he or any of the family had time to make heads or tails of what had happened, the EMS crew arrived.
Paramedics generally claim that within a few weeks-months at most-after joining EMS they will have seen everything. But this evening, every one of them agreed this was new territory.
One of the crew had attended more than one Jewish funeral. He recognized the burial shroud, especially since the coffin, lying on its side, was right there. Obviously, the casket had tipped over. And obviously the corpse had spilled out. That was unusual. But stranger still, the corpse was alive. It was blinking its eyes and making sounds.
The paramedic explained the situation to the others, concluding, “… so what in hell do we do?”
A second crew member offered, “Take him to Receiving, I suppose.”
“Maybe we should take him to the morgue?” the first asked.
“He ain’t dead.”
“Well, he was. They were getting ready to bury him.”
“Just think of what you’re saying!”
“Well, it ain’t up to us. Doc Moellmann can say whether he’s dead or alive or something in between.”
“N-n-n-n …” Dr. Green said.
“What?”
“N-n-n-n …”
“He’s trying to say something,” the crew member said. “Cut the shroud so he can move his mouth better.”
The shroud was slit.
“No!” Green said, with as much insistence as he could muster.
“No
“No … hospital.”
“You really ought to go to the hospital, Pop,” David said.
All things considered, thought Koesler, the family was holding up very well. At least no one had fainted; that was a mercy. Taking care of someone seemingly dead but now alive was quite enough without anyone else’s needing attention.
“No … hospital!” It was evident that speech was extremely difficult for Green. It seemed to take every ounce of effort for him to produce just the two words.
Considering the difficulty he had in speaking, it seemed safe to assume he
