Rattlebones (bxbxb)

Trunk Bodies

Being dragged out of a funeral parlor hadn't exactly been on the top of my priority list for that afternoon, but here I was.

Eugene's family goes full eighteenth-century angry mob on me and I'm carried out of the funeral and thrown out into the parking lot. 

"He's dead you demented little fuck!" Eugene's dad screams at me. "Do you know what that means?"

Eternal rest from this torturous mortal world?

"Carl," Eugene's mother, God bless her, pushes back Mr. Wilder, "He's in just as much pain as we are. We have to respect that."

Mr. Wilder is livid. "Brown, if I ever see you around my son's grave, there's going to be hell to pay. You hear that? Hell!"

I sit there for a while, even after they leave and everyone goes back to the funeral. I think about the fragility of life, and how Eugene hadn't deserved to have his life cut short when he was in his prime. Even if he had been an asshole to most of the school population.

I get up after a moment and go to my car. It's an old Acura, my mom and nona had gotten it for me for my sixteenth birthday, even though I would have preferred a hearse instead. The trunk is nice and wide, perfect for storing large body shaped objects.

I use my key to open the trunk once I'm sure that nobody's looking.

It pops open and my shadow falls across the body of Eugene Wilder.

He looks peaceful, but they had gone a little crazy with the makeup. His lashes are caked with enough mascara to put Dolly Parton to shame. His hair is a swoopy chocolate brown, and his jaw is still perfectly chiseled.

I had dragged him out of the coffin shortly before the funeral attendees had arrived and replaced him with ten pounds of potatoes from the supermarket. His family wouldn't open his casket again, it was too painful for them to witness.

But if I could do this for them. If I could bring Eugene back to life, maybe there was a chance that they could say goodbye properly. Or give Eugene another chance to finish high school at least. I felt like I owed him that.

I close the trunk.

There's a blonde-haired boy standing nearby with a can of soda clutched in one hand. His eyes widen a little when he sees me notice him and then he crumples up the can.

"Dude," He says. "Is that a fucking body in your trunk?"

Fuck.

"Is that Eugene Wilder in your trunk, McCreepy?" The boy repeats. "Like, did you just kidnap his dead body from his own funeral and stuff him into your car?"

I slam the trunk closed. "No. Why would you think that?" I reply stiffly and go around the car to unlock the front door, fumbling with my keys a bit. My fingers are sweaty, my pulse is jumping. This is it. This could be the moment where the rest of my life goes down the metaphorical shithole.

The boy comes over and practically breathes down my neck, he's standing so close. "Eugene was my best friend. Why the hell is he in your trunk? What are you doing with his body you creepy little bastard?"

I think he's going to punch the shit out of me. I hope he does it hard enough to where I blackout so that I don't see the inevitable chaos that unfolds.

"Are you one of those sick fucks who...God, I can't even say it." The boy trails off in disgust.

I turn around slowly so that we're face to face. He's a head taller than I am, ice blue eyes livid. "It's not like that," I reply and clutch my key so hard that digs into my palm. "I just want to give Eugene the life that he deserves. I want him to go to prom, and to graduate. It's not fair that he didn't get a chance to do any of that."

The boy blinks a little, surprised.

"So, I kidnapped him from his own funeral," I explain, and try to avoid looking into his weird eyes. "I'm going to bring him back from the dead."

Eugene's friend doesn't say anything for a beat. He's processing, rolling the information around in his head. I glance over at him and his lips are pulled together slightly. "So... you're not going to bone his dead body or anything?" He asks me finally.

I recoil slightly. "Are you crazy!? Why would I--no! I just want to bring him back to life, not get some ass! I'm not that desperate, or gross."

The boy sighs in relief and then shrugs a little, "Just making sure."

I turn to open my door again, shoulders hunched. "Don't tell anybody about this. If it doesn't work, I'll bury him myself. Nobody has to know that his corpse went missing for a few days." I tell him.

To my surprise, he goes around to the other side of the car and opens the door. "I'm coming with you." He says, "I want Eugene back as much as you do, but if this doesn't work, he goes back in the ground. No fucking around, Mccreepy, you hear me? We have to be respectful and shit."

I nod once and we both get into the car at the same time.

"What's your name?" I decide to ask him and start up the engine.

The boy leans his elbow against the window and slides his fingers into his hair. "Igor," He replies. "Everyone just calls me Iggy though."