Read Online The Girl with the Phony Name by Charles Mathes - Free Book Online Page B

up—she started him out sweeping the floors.

EIGHT
    â€œI t’s a what?” gasped Lucy, holding a limp hand to her throat.
    â€œFuneral parlor,” beamed Tak Wing.
    â€œNeat ‘n’ Tidy?”
    The little man nodded vigorously, his white teeth gleaming.
    â€œNew concept. No more embarrassing looking at dead body. No more big, expensive funeral. Cremation only. Cremation now fifteen percent of all funerals, up from three percent when I start. Be twenty-five percent within ten year. Growth industry.”
    â€œThink of that,” said Lucy. But she wasn’t thinking of that. She was thinking of the chimney belching white smoke atop the gingerbread house. And her hotel bill.
    â€œNeat ’n’ Tidy,” Wing continued enthusiastically. “One phone call, no worry.”
    â€œFor those who care but can’t be bothered?” said Lucy.
    â€œThat good,” beamed the little man. “You have talent for this.”
    â€œPlease don’t say that.”
    â€œI inherit,” Wing continued, ignoring her. “Miz Marvelle. Kind lady, dear friend. She die five year ago.”

    His broad smile suddenly disappeared and Lucy watched, astonished, as he wiped away a tear.
    â€œFuneral used to be biggest expense in most people’s lifetime after house and car,” said Wing, wistfully. “But things change. Young people not want spend fortune on making corpse happy anymore, yes? Want everything fast. Fast, fast, fast. Cheap, also. Cheap, cheap, cheap.
    â€œSo I make business fast and cheap. I make like McDonald’s. ‘You deserve a funeral today.’ Call up Wing: station wagon come, take loved one away. Four hundred dollars, soup to nuts. Family have plenty of cash left to put new deck on house.”
    â€œThat’s really … fascinating,” said Lucy politely. Wing grinned cockily, adjusted his top hat, and folded his arms in front of him.
    â€œWing have the experience,” he said confidently. “Wing have the technology. Wing have the vision.”
    Lucy herself had the distinct feeling that things were getting out of hand. Over and over she asked herself, “Do I really need a job this much?” The answer kept coming back—yes.
    â€œShow facilities now,” said Wing, standing suddenly. “Come!” Lucy’s résumé fluttered from his lap to the floor. He had barely glanced at it, just marveled over and over, saying, “To think Harvard woman working for Wing.” Lucy felt like a snail about lying to him, but what choice did she have?
    â€œWing give tour,” the little man squealed, motioning wildly with his pudgy hands. “You see. Humble place of business. Very modern stuff.”
    â€œNo, really, you don’t have to … .”
    â€œCome come!”
    Reluctantly Lucy rose. Wing bowed at her. She bowed back. He bowed again. Lucy bowed. Wing bowed again. Lucy left it at that and followed him past the smiling punk receptionist and into the house.
    After passing several empty offices they came to a large,
homey room, lined with organ pipes and paneled in dark wood, where half a dozen women typed on computer keyboards.
    â€œFirst floor used to be big profit center.” Wing sighed. “Four viewing rooms. Fond Farewell Chapel. Heavenly Rest casket showroom. All gone now. Administration only.”
    â€œIt looks very advanced.”
    â€œEverything computerized.” He brightened, punching buttons on a vacant terminal. “Handle paperwork for all of chain here.”
    â€œChain?”
    â€œTwenty Neat ’n’ Tidies in tri-state area,” he said, walking to the door. “Big expansion going on, you be very impressed.”
    Lucy followed speechlessly.
    Wing poked his head into several other offices, some empty, some full of efficient-looking men and women. All the rooms were wood-paneled and nicely carpeted. The house was the sort of place where one would