Tommy and the Dead Guy

Tommy and the Dead Guy

Tommy Martin looked like a normal ten-year-old. He wasn’t.

“Tommy! Get moving! You’re going to be late for school!”

“I can’t go to school today, Mom. It’s too dangerous.”

“What are you talking about? What’s too dangerous?”

“I saw a dead bird, and that’s a bad omen. I’ll have to stay home today.”

“I don’t think so, Tommy. And where did you see a dead bird?”

 “He’s in our refrigerator.”

“What? In our refridg… Tommy, that’s the chicken we’re having for dinner tonight.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Sorry, Tommy, that doesn’t count as a bad omen.”

“Ok then, but how about the black cat that crossed my path this morning?”

“That’s Whiskers, Tommy, your little sister’s cat. He’s been here for three years. He hasn’t brought bad luck yet. Get your backpack.”

History will not record when it started, but Tommy’s life had become a smorgasbord of worries, images, and fears of threatening elements born of the dark side- omens, evil spirits, boogie-men, spiders, dark shadows, witches, eerie sounds, and ghosts. The origin of his unfounded concerns about his well-being was an ongoing source of friction between his parents.

“It’s all your fault, Roger. You let him stay up late that night to watch ‘The Wolfman Meets Frankenstein’. It scared the bejesus out of him. You scarred him for life.”

“It was a bonding event, Helen. And I never thought he’d believe a man could turn into a wolf and leap out of trees to bite people.”

“He was three years old, Roger.”

“Oh yeah? Well, how about you letting him roam around your dad’s funeral home looking at dead guys?”

“It was one time, Roger. Tommy just snuck into the viewing room for a minute when I was talking to Grandpa. I don’t think Tommy even knew the man was deceased.”

“He sure wasn’t moving around a lot. What else would Tommy be thinking? He was so scared he pooped in his pants. No wonder he’s a mess.”

“He wasn’t even two years old, Roger. He was always pooping in his pants.”

Tommy’s troubling propensity to see foreboding omens in all things reached crisis stage when he brought the dreaded note home from school:

Mr. and Mrs. Martin-

Would you please come in to see me after school tomorrow? Tommy has been exhibiting some very troubling behavior that we need to talk about.

Yours in Christ,

Sister Mary Joseph

P.S. I pray for you.

“Tommy, did you get in trouble at school?”

“No.”

“Do you know why your teacher wants to talk to us?”

“I dunno, Dad.”

“No” and “I dunno”, two of the stalwarts of a child’s defensive posture when confronted with accusations of possible wrongdoing.

Sister Mary Joseph had the look of a wolverine ready to pounce… and that was when she was in a merry mood. Schoolyard legend had circulated over the years that she once broke two rulers on Jimmy Nelson’s knuckles in a single disciplinary session. Roger fidgeted nervously as she entered the room.

“Your son is causing great disruption in our classroom.”

The unsettling silence suggested inquiry should be made. Roger brandished his manhood by speaking up.

“Uh… what did he do?”

“What did he do?! It’s what he always does.”

Her tone suggested she thought they already knew… or should have known. Helen looked at her husband and sensed his courage was already fading. She spoke up.

“What did he do… this time?”

“A big black bird landed on the windowsill outside of our classroom. Tommy jumped out of his seat and ran around screaming, ‘We’re all going to die!' The children all ran out of the classroom and hid in the Tornado Shelter. It took me an hour to get them back to the classroom.”

Roger and Helen immediately recognized that the specter of Tommy’s fixation with omens had escaped their home and was now menacing the public at large. It was Roger’s turn to say something.

“Yes… I can see where that would be a... disruption.”

“And now he’s saying that little Susie Marks is a witch. Susie’s no angel, but she’s certainly not a witch. He says he’s working on tests he could put her through to determine whether she’s a witch or not. I shudder to think. I can’t imagine where he gets this stuff from.”

Helen was quick on the draw.

“Well, my husband let Tommy watch a werewolf movie when he was little. I think that really affected him.”

Roger wasn’t having it.

“Oh yeah, well, what do you think having a child look at dead people all day long would do for a kid, Sister?”

“I didn’t do that! It was all Lon Chaney and Boris Karloff! Bonding my butt!”

“It was the dead guy!”

“Lon Chaney! Lon Chaney!”

“Dead guy!”

“Lon Chaney!”

Sister Mary Joseph was close to going for the ruler.

“Stop it, you two! No wonder Tommy has issues.”

A joint apology… in a whisper.

“Sorry, Sister.”

That night at home, Roger and Helen, under threat of another inquisition with Sister Mary Joseph, put their differences aside and worked on solutions.

“We could homeschool him.”

“Sister Mary Joseph looked like she won’t be around much longer.”

“Sustained, extreme measures of punishment if he were to evoke the ire of Sister Mary Joseph again.”

“Therapy.”

“What? Do you think Tommy’s gone a little woo-woo, Helen?”

“Not woo-woo, Roger. It might just help him overcome some of his fears. You have to admit it. His reaction to some of these so-called omens is a little over the top. I don’t think I could live through another Friday the 13th.”

“Yeah, we don’t want him nailing his bedroom door and windows shut again.”

So, therapy it was.

“So, why are we going to the Doctor, Mom? Am I sick? I don’t feel sick.”

“Doctor Kraus isn’t really a doctor, or that kind of a doctor.”

“What kind of doctor is he, Dad?”

“Well… he helps people… uh, with the way people… uh, think about things.”

“You guys don’t think I’ve gone woo-woo or anything like that, do you, Mom? Johnny Larson’s Uncle went woo-woo, and they put him somewhere.”

“Oh no, honey. It’s not like that at all. It’s just that we want to help you not be so afraid of things.”

“What things?”

Helen looked at her husband, asking for a handoff with her eyes.

“All those omens that make you afraid something bad is going to happen.”

“Omens are warning signs, Dad. It’s best to be prepared.”

“It’s like this, Tommy. Doctor Kraus will just help you to not worry so much about these omens. He’ll help you understand there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Good luck with that.”

Dr. Klaus listened, questioned, probed, and analyzed for over an hour.

“So, what do you think, Doctor. Can you help him?”

“Well, let me just say you brought him in just in time. That boy was just one eye of newt and two toes of a frog short of woo-woo.”

Roger and Helen exchanged puzzled glances.

“He did have some good points though. This omen business is complicated. It’s not all black and white.”

The puzzled glances continued.

“Complicated? He’s reacting irrationally to things that aren’t real.”

“Maybe, Mr. Martin, maybe not. There is a long history of bad things happening to people who ignored easily recognizable omens.”

“What?”

“Poe’s Raven, Queequeg’s doll, Lassie barking when Timmy fell in the well… and on and on.”

“Lassie barking wasn’t…”

“Let’s not quibble, folks. Real or not, he does seem to overreact to these omens. His fear could hinder his ability to take appropriate action in the face of these omens.”

Helen leaned toward Roger and whispered.

“Roger, this guy is woo-woo.”

“Let’s hear him out. We just dropped two hundred bucks on this guy.”

Doctor Kraus studied his notes and then turned his attention to Tommy.

“You have a keen eye for omens, young man, but we need to make you a little less afraid. Ok?”

“I guess.”

“What do you suggest, Doctor?”

“Tommy needs to confront his fear head-on. It’s like Vince Lombardi said, run right at ‘em.”

“Uh, I think his book was Run to Daylight.”

“Whatever. Now, Helen, you say it was the scary movie that’s at the root of all this…”

“Yes, and Roger did it.”

“And, Roger, you say his fears started when he saw a dead person…”

“Under my wife’s watch.”

“So, here’s what we do. First, a marathon movie night. Get a copy of the Wolfman and Frankenstein movie and watch it over and over again. Tommy will eventually realize there’s nothing to fear.”

“Does that work?”

“I’ve had great success with this technique. You may have to watch it five or six times, but he’ll get there.”

Roger was dreading it already.

“And for part two of my plan, some night, after a wake at grandpa’s funeral home, after everyone has gone home, do a sleepover in the same room with the casket. You’d be there with him, Roger. In the morning, Tommy will have no fear of dead people.”

Roger looked like he was about to pass out.

“In the… same room? Couldn’t it be like… maybe in the office… or out in the parking lot… or put it on Zoom?”

“No, you need to be as close to the dead person as possible.”

Helen was smiling.

“Look at it this way, Roger. It will be another one of those great bonding experiences for you and Tommy.”

  Tommy and his parents sat together on the living room sofa as they watched the Werewolf and Frankenstein wreak havoc upon the local citizenry. Sandwiches, popcorn, and soda fueled the effort as the terror replayed over and over again. Tommy’s little sister, Betsy, was spending the night at Helen’s sister’s house lest she come down with the same affliction of unfounded fear.

“Oh my God, Helen, did you see the way the Wolfman went at that guy’s neck? Jesus Christ.”

“Relax, Roger, It’s only a movie.”

Roger was chomping down popcorn faster than a famished lion devours its prey. Tommy looked… bored.

“Can we put something else on, Mom? This is stupid.”

“Let’s just watch it one more time. We want to make sure you’re not afraid of the Wolfman anymore.”

“Afraid? Wolfman? I just thought it was some guy who didn’t shave.”

“Maybe he’s right, Helen. I… I think maybe that’s enough.”

“One more time, Roger, just to be safe.”

Roger’s fingers were fidgeting as he looked around the room.

“Well… ok, then… I guess I’ll… just go make some more popcorn.”

“We’ve got plenty of popcorn, Roger.”

“Well… salt. It needs more salt. I’ll go get some.”

“Just hurry up and get back here. You’ve been in and out of the room all night. We’re supposed to be doing this together.”

 Roger and Helen felt encouraged the next day. Tommy exhibited no signs of trauma from the previous night’s ordeal, and he seemed to be omen free.

“So far so good, Roger, but tonight will be the real test. I brought the air mattresses up from the basement so you and Tommy will be comfortable.”

“Uh, Helen, you know, I was thinking, maybe it would be better if you went with Tommy tonight. I mean, it’s your dad’s funeral home, and you know, it might be more effective if he saw… no offense… but if he saw even a woman wasn’t afraid to be there.”

Helen raised her eyebrows.

“Even a woman? Really?”

Helen was thinking.

“Roger, you’re not afraid to be there, are you?”

“What? Of course not, Helen. I…”

“I can’t anyway. My sister and I are taking Betsy and her cousins to a movie tonight.”

Roger looked like a doomed man.

“Well, ok then, that’s… uh fine. Me and Tommy… bonding…at the funeral home… great.”

Grandpa would never have agreed to such a thing, so it all had to be done on the sly. Tommy and his dad arrived at the funeral home around 10:00 PM, well after the wake was over. Check-out would be at sunrise the next morning. It took three trips from the car to bring in their provisions- air mattresses, air pump, pillows, blankets, cooler with ice and soda, pretzels, chips, mom’s chocolate chip cookies, camping lantern, two flashlights, garbage bags, and Tommy’s Game Boy. Roger eyed the casket at the front of the room and quickly started to set up camp at the entrance to the large viewing room.

“Dad, this is too far away. I think we need to be closer to the dead guy.”

“No, I think we’re good. We’re in the room. That’s what counts.”

“I think Dr. Kraus would want us closer. I’m putting my stuff up at the front of the room.”

“Well… I think… you know… out of respect for the deceased… we should keep our distance.”

A compromise was reached. They moved a few chairs around and placed their air mattresses in the center of the room. Roger continued to rearrange chairs, the final formation bearing a striking resemblance to the defensive position of a wagon train in the Old West or the walls of Troy.

“What the heck, Dad? It looks like you’re building a fort.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted to give us a little… privacy.”

Tommy didn’t understand that one, but it didn’t matter to him. He was anxious to satisfy his curiosity.

“I’m going to go take a look at the dead guy.”

“Hold on a second. Are you sure you want to do that? It might be a little creepy for you.”

“It’s ok. Johnny Larson’s other uncle died, and Johnny saw him at the funeral. He said it wasn’t scary or anything.”

Tommy practically sprinted to the front of the room while Roger slowly and cautiously followed him to the casket.

“He’s dead alright, Dad. Deader than a doornail.”

“Yeah, they always want to make sure of that.”

“Can I touch him?”

“Jesus Christ, no! You can’t touch him.”

“Johnny Larson said he touched his uncle and it felt really weird.”

“I bet it did.”

“How’d he die?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was he shot or fell into a woodchipper or something?”

“For goodness sake, Tommy, no. He probably just got old and died.”

Tommy gazed at the corpse with the wonder of a child. Roger was feeling a little weak in the knees.

“That’s enough, Tommy. Let’s get back to our beds… air mattresses.”

“I’m not tired. What are we going to do there?”

“Well, we can just talk, a little father-son bonding.”

Back at base camp, Roger struggled to initiate a conversation, as much to divert as to bond. He needed to take his mind off the front of the room.”

“So, how’s school?”

“Good.”

“Do you like your teacher?”

“She’s ok.”

“What’s your favorite subject?”

“I dunno.”

“How’s basketball practice?”

“Fine.”

“Good, good, I’m glad we had this little talk.”

Tommy played on his Game Boy while Roger nervously chomped down a bag of potato chips, all the while keeping one eye on the front of the room. Tommy set his Game Boy down, and the eerie silence took hold of Roger. Darkness, silence, shadows on the walls from passing car lights, and death in the room. Roger’s mind was stirring, and his heart was pounding.

“Tommy! Did you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

After three such panicky inquiries, Tommy wondered. He put his Game Boy down.

“Dad, are you afraid?”

Roger forced half a laugh.

“What? Who me? Afraid? Ha! Of course not.”

But now Roger wondered.

“Tommy, aren’t you afraid of being here, maybe even just a little afraid?”

“Of what? The guy’s dead, Dad. He can’t hurt anyone.”

Roger felt a tinge of embarrassment as he remained uneasy about his circumstances.

“Dad, I’m going to go check out the dead guy again. Can I use your cell phone to take some pictures? I want to show Johnny.”

Tommy slept like a baby. Roger heard the noises all night long.

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“Roger, you better hurry up, or you’re going to be late for work.”

“I’m not going to work today. It’s too dangerous.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I broke a mirror this morning, Helen. I’d be a fool to leave the house. We all need to stay here today.”

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