Lazerians (short story)
Or, why I stopped learning to care and cared to learn
“What do you mean this venue is already booked?” Helen screamed loudly “My father just died his first death and I’m not making him miss his next one!”
The undertaker in a tight looking black suit raised a hand in objection to her.
“No matter what you chose to do there is no reason to shout.” he said diligently “He missed his first death he can always look forward to the next one.”
“That’s the thing!” she says unwillingly to give a inch “He was a proud Lazerian through and through and now you want to deny the most sacred part of our heritage?”
“Third sacred I think you’ll say.” he says trying to walk away “Just behind your kind inventing the Zero G coffin and Steak Bagels.”
“Well whatever.” Helen snubs bitterly “Who else is booked for the funeral?”
“Janey Jones.” the undertaker coos tonelessly
“Was she a Lazerian?”
“Hindu actually but-”
“Oh who cares.” she tries to enforce “We regenerate on a literal level, why not give us the slot instead?”
“And what about the family of Mrs. Jones?”
“Why not move them to a more local venue? People are still buried in dumpsters right?”
“No they are not.”
“Well why don’t we bring it back?”
“Even if I could, they’ve already got everyone and their mothers coming over to see her.”
“Where was my invitation then?”
“Sent just yesterday. Now will you please not make this any more difficult than it has to be?”
“Why not?” Helen demands “I can give you 500 francs and give my father the rightful first funeral he deserves.”
“No deal.” the usher says trying to shut her out “And we deal in Bitcoin here, not euros.”
“Never trusted Huckerburg.” Helen snarks annoyedly, “Then what if we group them together?”
The undertaker stares at her as outside a coffin is being smashed open loudly.
“Put your father and Mrs. Jones in the same coffin?” he asks
“No.” she says “I say we put them in the same coffin.”
The coffin bashes loudly again.
“Perhaps…” the undertaker says unsure “Oh, excuse me a second.”
He takes his leave. From behind a beautifully destroyed shutter window she watches as the coffin is smashed open from within. A baby boy steps outside.
“Welcome little one.” he says sweetly “We’ll get your old life back soon. Just wait here and I’ll be back in a moment.”
He leaves the baby in the room. By the time he shuts the door and greets her again, he’s already in his midteens.
“Well,” he says exhausted, “it would free up my schedule around here. And we know around here how hectic it can be. You won’t come just because it’s very light and easy around here.”
Helen leaves. She wants to say more but chooses not to. Instead she yells it outside while the whole street pretends to hear her.
26 January 2022
Part of a word prompt where we each wrote a word and picked another’s out by random. I got “double-booked” because the venue we had was already booked by a different society.
People loved the snappy dialogue, implication that this first funeral and baby are normal and world building.
My one wasn’t the most popular but I did influence it with my prompt “piss”.
