The Complete Roderick

‘Me too,’ said another man, who gave no initials. ‘You Roger Wood? Just like to take a coupla pictures of you, one full-face and one profile. Hear you been going around posing as a robot, that about the size of it? Just speak into the microphone.’

Before he could answer, another man pushed in. ‘FDA. We’re confiscating those so-called gingerbread men—’

‘Boys,’ Ma protested.

‘Men, boys, everything. We’ll also take all the ginger you got in the house — all the ginseng, too — and what’s this book? Golden Buff? Any recipes in here? Cancer cures, looks like a jaundice cure right here, we’ll take it along…’

Pa called down from the top of the stairs. ‘What’s going on? What’s going on?’ But Roderick was too busy explaining that his face was not a removable mask as in Westworld, and Ma was trying to argue the FDA man out of taking away her kitchen stove. Pa made his way slowly down the stairs over the next hour, while the men milled about and Sheriff Benson sat in the corner looking embarrassed. The sheriff was the last to leave, saying:

‘Sorry folks, hope this won’t influence your vote…’

Ma went to the door and shouted after them: ‘Okay if we melt now?’

Pa made it to the foot of the stairs. ‘What was going on, Mary?’

‘Nothing, Paul. You go back to bed and get some rest.’

‘Sure, okay.’ It took Pa several minutes to turn around and face the stairs again. Before he started up again, he bent and picked up a scrap of paper.

‘Looks like they missed this gas bill, here — oh my God! Oh!’

Roderick caught him before he fell, but Pa was dead.

‘Come out? For what?’ Dr Welby sounded cross. ‘Look buddy, if you had a bridge hand like this you wouldn’t drop it to go look at a stiff either. Don’t quote me on that. Look, musta been his heart, thought it sounded tricky the other day… tell you what, I’ll make a note, I’m doing it now, don’t get excited… make a note to leave a death certificate in my office, you pick it up when you want. Fair enough? Because you’ll be coming in anyway to pay your bill.’

‘But doctor, it’s Ma. She’s bad, I think maybe she’s gonna die too…’

That’s right, tell her a little grief is only natural, but if she needs any medication, antidepressants

‘But doctor—’

‘Sorry about your dad. But you know, my work is with the living. The plaintive cry of a newborn babe… the tears of gratitude in old eyes that once more can see… the trusting handclasp of a child made whole by surgery… the brave grin of… well, you know. And you can quote me on that.’

XX

The next morning brought Jake Mcllvaney to the door with a package. ‘Terrible thing, your Pa and all,’ he said. ‘Yep, just terrible. Boys over at the poolroom was just saying how—’ the big Adam’s apple shifted, ‘—how sudden it was. Real sudden. And your Pa was real respected in this town, you know that? Real respected. Can’t say as he was liked much, but everybody respected him even when they hated his guts.’

Roderick nodded.

‘Yep, well guess you’ll be gettin’ Wally Muscatine to handle the arrangements, eh boy?’

Roderick nodded. Jake came inside and looked around.

‘Good enough, good enough. Because you know Wally’s a real white man, he’ll do your Pa proud. This the death certificate? See Doc Welby signed it, funny thing he was just now saying as how Pa was strong as a horse, only your Ma would keep feeding him with funny pills and all.’

Roderick shrugged.

‘Yep, that’s the way it goes. Oh, here’s your package. Corner kinda got ripped a little there, so I uh seen what it is, it’s a head.’

Roderick nodded.

‘Looks almost real, what I seen of it. What’s it for, anyhow?’

‘For me. It’s kind of a mask.’

‘Oh?’

‘Guess I can’t wear it for a while. I’m in mourning.’

‘Oh.’ The Adam’s apple bobbed again. ‘By golly I wondered what you was doing with that black paint all over your face. Didn’t like to ask right out, know how coloured folks get so touchy sometimes. Take that new doc, Doc Sam, you met him? Well he is the touchiest coloured boy I ever did see. All you gotta do is sneeze the wrong way and he gets all uppity, you know? Like we was talking about how your Ma keeps baking these here gingerbread boys, I asked him if he hadn’t noticed how a lot of kids around town got sick after eating gingerbread boys, right away he got mad! He got mad!’

‘He did?’

‘Well maybe not right away, but see I asked him if he didn’t smell a nigger in the woodpile somewheres, then he got mad. Okay, maybe I should of said Negro but hell, it’s just an expression. I just don’t understand you people sometimes. Hell I’m not prejudiced. I even buy Uncle Ben’s rice! And look, I’ll shake your hand any time — any time!’ Jake at once drew on a dirty work-glove and shook Roderick’s hand. ‘There, you see?’

‘A difficult time,’ murmured Mr Muscatine. ‘No use making it more difficult than we have to, eh Roger?’

‘What?’

‘I mean, I hope you’ll want the full funeral. No time to pinch pennies, now, is it? See, by rights I ought to remove your beloved father in a quiet, dignified way. I ought to prepare everything real tasteful: I’m talking a rosewood casket, rosewood on the outside over seam-welded stainless steel, silver-plated handles, you got a choice of linings, nylon or pleated silk. I’m talking a full set of casket clothes, nice English worsted suit, Italian shoes, quiet broadcloth-shirt, underwear, socks and garters — he can either wear his own tie or we can provide one, got a nice one here with the message written sideways see, so you can read it when—’

‘But—’

‘Sure a lot of people think it’s corny dressing them up in new clothes but I like to think of it as, well, like getting married. Only for sure you only do it once.’

‘Well I—’

‘Because see our full package includes everything, floral arrangements, music, enhancement of the appearance, watertight vault, plot in a good location, everything right down to a quality deodorant—’

‘Well see, I’m not sure how much money we have. Ma’s too upset right now to—’

‘Then let’s not worry her, eh? Eh? Way I see it, if you really love someone, you just naturally want them to have the very best. Quality, solid comfort, that’s our motto at MFH.’ Seeing Roderick scratching his head, he went on quickly, ‘Think of it this way. All his life that sweet old man worked hard to provide something for you and your Ma. Quality of life. Now don’t you think he deserves a little quality of life himself?’

‘Sure only—’

‘Of course you could get the Economy job, sure. We could come in and drag Pa out of here just the way he is, puke down his pyjamas, neighbours watching his limbs flop around, staring at his dirty toe-nails, how would you like that? Then we squirt in our cheapest embalming fluid, cram his belly full of low-grade cavity filler, pop him in a thin plastic coffin and just dump him in a hole in the corner of the graveyard where it’s all overrun with weeds and crab-grass, ground’s alive with wood lice… but ask yourself: is it really worth it? Saving a few lousy bucks, is it really…?’

Father O’Bride sounded upset. ‘What do you mean, say a few words? Am I supposed to be a toastmaster or something?’