Eating Mother

I

Cedric Rosenthal hit the table with his tuning fork and when a high tone emitted from the vibrations the mourners all sang about soldiers of Jesus marching with a huge apparatus nominally employed for carrying out the death penalty under ancient Roman law. The battle these soldiers would be fighting was against sin, a bit like America’s war on terrorism with only one being a metaphor. The coffin was placed in prominent display but what Mrs. Jacqueline Harper’s mourners were unaware of was that the box was devoid of cadaver. When the funeral came to a close and Jacqueline’s chosen song, ‘I’m Not Your Superwoman’ was played on a small white stereo that you can see advertised on the back of a Sunday supplement her weighted down coffin was slowly inched towards the flames. There was one thing on the mind of The Harper Family and The Harper In-Laws. But first there had to be a little decorum provided by subtle weeping and stroking of shoulders.

At the reading of the will were her four children Erica, Brian, Thomas and Pearl along with the freshly widowed Michael Harper. Two men of the type you could not imagine and yet somehow could not possibly exist within the realms of reality sat at a desk with The Last Will and Testament of Mrs. Jacqueline Melanie Harper nee Huntingdon sealed and to be opened at one o’clock exactly. The in-laws present were Simon Quinn, Sarah Harper (nee Gillard), Jessica Harper (nee Chapel) and Simon Watson. It was the in-laws who thought the display of a Mickey Mouse alarm clock on the desk was twice as ridiculous. Not so to the two men behind the desk. The arms of the rodent character that evolved from Oswald The Lucky Rabbit pointed towards the numbers twelve and one causing the domed pieces of brass atop to ring-a-ding-ding. The man sat on his left stilled the little hammer that was making the noise. The man sat on his right asked all the gatherers if they could all wait patiently and the man sat on his left added, “Plus if you could all keep your eyes facing us and ignore any noise of interest that might be occurring behind you.” After he spoke the oak panelled doors opened and a trolley was wheeled in behind the recipients of Jacqueline Harper’s will with a sheet draped over it forming a landscape shape. The man sat on his right nodded to the man sat on his left who with a small sharp ornate knife broke the wax seal opening the will. The man on his left began to read the will informing the recipients of how much was left (which was substantial) and who would receive what (which wasn’t equal). Then he finished his part and silence pervaded the room. Before the eldest child could speak regarding the will he was cut in by the man on his right. “There is however a condition to all this ladies and gentlemen. May I continue with the reading?” They all nodded some simultaneously, others took a turn. The man on his right continued, “‘I have made previous arrangements to have my entire fortune removed from their respective accounts and placed in a coffin to be temporarily looked after by the two gentlemen who have been selected to read out this will. The coffin for my funeral shall be weighted down with bricks. I have worked myself to an early grave without a word of thanks from you all when growing up and when you finally flew the nest I was given a new set of grief and worry to deal with when hearing about your family’s problems. As I gave you my entire self from your days of birth it is only fit…’” The man on his left nodded to the two individual’s by the trolley who in turn dramatically removed the sheet. The man on his right continued, “ ‘…that I offer my cadaver for you all to dine upon fresh or cooked. There is an option for you not to eat but that option will result in your part of the inheritance being burnt. I hope that each and every one of you would be willing to comply. I love you all dearly. Mrs. Jacqueline Melanie Harper nee Huntingdon. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.’ Any questions?” There were no questions, such things were impossible to articulate when frozen in flabbergasted shock. “If you just turn around ladies and gentlemen.” The man on his left requested and all did. There it lay, the naked corpse of The Harper Family matriarch. Chaos filled the room with the exception of the ones who brought the body in, the unnerving men behind the desk and Michael Harper whose belly was bobbing up and down. “May I ask you where the coffin with the money is kept?” The two men behind the desk carefully analysed the will and then nodded in synch.

Michael Harper was led away from his offspring bickering over his dead wife to a locked room. The man who was originally on his left held the key on his right hand index finger and the man who was originally on his right removed it with his left fingers and unlocked the door to the room. Michael Harper walked in and saw the coffin laid out upon a large table. Michael went over to lift the lid off the coffin but alas. “She’s even thought of that Mr. Harper. The lid will be broken in properly when her skeleton is all that is left.”
“This is well sealed.” Commented Michael.
“To her strictest instructions.”
Michael nodded appreciatively. He was informed that his children and grandchildren would have seven days within to eat Mrs. Harper’s body.

II

Young Abigail Harper (grandchild of Jacqueline who was earmarked to inherit three hundred pounds if she agreed to eat her grandmother) spent her time in the living room doodling on a dot-to-dot book as she listened to her parents argue with a whisper by the dining table. “Don’t you understand Brian, that money can pay for Abigail to go to a better school.”
“She’s not given any complaints about the school up the road, Sarah.”
“The very unhappy never speak, Brian.”
“Since when were you the voice for the unhappy?”
“I’m sure we can find a butcher that can carve up the meat to make it unrecognisable. A few granny burgers perhaps.”
“I feel very sick and upset.”
“Your mother would want Abigail to go to a good school.”
Brian removed the fluff from his naval and flicked it against the skirting board. “I’m not eating her fanny.” Said Abigail.

Simultaneously Erica and Simon Quinn had troubles of their own. Theirs was about paying off the various cards and loans they had. “We could…We might be able erm…to pay off the high definition television set.” Said Simon attempting to be rational.
“Yes indeed,” Added Erica trying to put a positive spin on things but also holding back the tears, “It could also help pay off the Land Rover. Hold me.” Their three little ones looked on with sad eyes.

Jessica and Thomas Harper were in the park with Pearl and Simon Watson. They had two children each who larked in the playground whilst their mothers and fathers observed from a safe wooden bench distance. “Look at them. They appear not to be worried by the prospect.” Observed Jessica.
“So you’ve told them then?” Simon asked Thomas.
“I haven’t neither, no.” Admitted Thomas.
Jessica was appalled, “I entrusted you to inform them. They need that money to get a start in life.”
“They could always work. Besides she’s my mother.” Thomas protested.
“She was your mother,” Jessica corrected, “and this is what she wanted.”
“It’s typical of her, if you think about it.” Simon commented.
Pearl added, “Thank you very much, our mother has died and you piss on her memory.”
Simon then said to Jessica, “Do you remember the many family gatherings? Weddings, anniversaries, milestone birthdays (especially hers), Christmases, New Years and even funerals? Did you not ever notice there was a funny attitude towards us in laws?”
“Oh do demonise our mother by all means.” Said Pearl.
“You’re right. I don’t think she ever liked us, Simon.” Said Jessica.
“Don’t you fancy going for a walk, brother?” Asked Pearl
“I don’t see why we have to partake in this.” Said Simon.
“Yes, I do fancy going for a walk, sister. Might even pick up a couple of ninety-nines on the way.” Said Thomas. Pearl and her brother Thomas got up from their positions on the bench. “She’s just doing that to spite us. This is unfair as we didn’t weigh her down through all her years.” Said Jessica.
“Serves her right for having so many children!” Simon volumed making sure Pearl was in earshot. Pearl and Thomas gave a raised-eye-to-Heaven exchange to one another before walking away. At that point a little boy with the appearance of a Katzenjammer Kid piped up from the climbing frame, “It’s not fair, Cassandra says because I’m the youngest I’d be given Nana’s nipples to eat.”

III

Passing the local boozer Cedric Rosenthal noticed through the bullet glass Michael Harper sat on a bar stool supping a pint of brown ale. Cedric tapped on the glass and Michael turned round giving him a friendly wave. Cedric went straight in the pub, took out his tuning fork from his tweed jacket and struck the bar with it. “Don’t damage the furniture.” The barmaid chastised.
And the two men went, “Hmmmmmm…..Onward Christian soldiers,
Marching as to war
With the cross of Jesus
Going on be…fore!”
“What’ll it be?” Asked the barmaid.
“Bottle o’ stout.” Requested Cedric.
“Any particular brand?”
“Cheapest on the tariff.”
The barmaid bent over to look leading Cedric to whisper, “Look at that arse, Mike. You don’t get perfection like that through natural selection.” The barmaid poured out a cheap bottle of stout into the appropriate glass. “That’ll be two pounds twenty my darling.”
“That’s your cheapest?”
“It is from a bottle.”
“Holy Moses!”
“You should have had half a draught.” Piped Mike. Cedric took out a fiver and handed it over to the barmaid. She placed it in the till and handed over the change, “Two pounds eighty.”
“Thanks love.” Cedric said with appreciation. The barmaid returned to her serving position leaving the two codgers to talk amongst themselves. “So Michael, my brother in Christ, how’s things? Seriously, how are you coping?”
“Never felt better Cedric.”
“Really? I find that disturbing. You’re not hiding behind a mask are you?”
“Not at all. I’m looking forward to telling you this.”
“Telling me what? You are allowed to moan Mike. When my mother died I wanted to bruise those well meaners who told me that my faith would give me strength. Faith in the God that creates tumours. Still, I can’t shake off the W.G. Grace bearded old bugger.”
Michael subtly belly laughed, “If only the humanists could hear our chinwag.”
“So are you happy your wife has died?” Asked Cedric.
“Considering her final days of suffering, happy for her but not for me. I feel a little bit guilty being the one still alive, especially considering our age difference.” Michael confessed.
“Hmmm. Yes.” Added Cedric. For half a minute Michael and Cedric supped their warm alcoholic beverages in contemplative quietness. Save for Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel lightly emitting from the small speakers secured to the beams. It was Michael who broke the peace by asking Cedric the strength of his stomach. “I’m intrigued Michael, humour me.”
“I’ll have to speak this at a low volume Mister Rosenthal so do please lean closer to me.”
“Providing you don’t start licking my ear again Mister Harper.”
Michael told his friend everything and all the heads in the pub turned round to see the source of such a raucous cackle. “Oh mother!” Guffawed Cedric. “Oh pardon the pun, I’m terribly sorry.”
“No offence taken.”
“So tell me is she going to be raw or cooked?”
“They’ll have to shave her though. This won’t take long as the poor woman suffered a lot of hair loss due to stress.”
Cedric paused for a moment. “Isn’t all this a bit macabre? Wouldn’t have there been a chance had she died simply of old age Jacqueline might have changed her mind? You could always seek to override the will.”
Michael shook his head. He was not having any of that considerate nonsense. Jacqueline and Michael used to laugh together. When she weakened and weakened it was hard for him to feel happy. “I grieved for her whilst she was still alive.” Would be the stock-answer-in-trade he would give to future busybodies. This would be for Michael and Jacqueline one big hearty laughing goodbye. Plus he was feeling a little peckish. In any case he felt it would serve them all right. Consideration was only shown after she suffered but not when she was well. He remembered the early part of Jacqueline’s suffering and what she said. “They’re only showing an interest in me now because they want to avoid guilt when I go to the land of the ga-ga. Plus, I bet you my sons and daughters in law in the back of their minds are thinking ‘inheritance’. Oh yes Michael, I am certain to die and they won’t forget me.” That, Michael told Cedric, was why the late Jacqueline Harper’s wishes were to be honoured. Cedric proffered his empty glass to the barmaid. “Same again?”
“Um no, I’ll have a draught one. Same glass please, save your washing up liquid.”
“It would be a half, then.”
“Sounds suitable to me.” The barmaid pulled the half pint whilst Cedric and Michael discussed the organisation of the consensual cannibalistic banquet. Their planning went well into the night so their booze was soaked up by a couple of mixed grills. Cedric became too merry to fret about finance at that point. Soon it would be crunch time.

IV

Cedric and two of his brothers played traditional jazz on banjo, clarinet and accordion as Jacqueline’s inheritors walked into the privately booked community hall. Her children did not want to be there, her children-in-law knew it was necessary and her grandchildren came in either out of respect or via cajolement. A vegetable buffet was laid out for the diners prepared by a close associate of Cedric. Separate tables were laid out for each couple and there was a special grandchildren’s table laid out with felt tip pens and a black and white drawing of their grandmother to be coloured in. Paper plates were provided and after the vegetarian side of the meal was selected by all, the widower Michael Harper stood behind the drinks table providing the almost reluctant diners with cheap-ish wine, cola, lemonade, squash and tea or coffee. Behind a curtain on the community hall’s stage was the body of the late Mrs. Jacqueline Melanie Harper (nee Huntingdon) plus Cedric’s close associate and a trainee cook. Michael tapped the wine bottle to command attention, “Please, please. If you all look in my direction. Thank you. Cedric, a little silence please. You are all here to carry out my late wife’s final wish. And you are well aware of the cost of the forfeit. Now my wife, as you are aware of, is the main course. She’ll be served up in freshly baked rolls. Both Peter and Leo will call you up to receive your portion. So if I may call upon my good friend Cedric Rosenthal to assist me with the curtain. The party can begin!”

Despite concluding his speech with an exclamation point the party began quite slowly as it took Michael and Cedric a bit of effort to walk up the small wooden steps leading to the stage and go behind the curtains. Jacqueline and Michael’s sons, daughters, their husbands, their wives and their own children waited with slowly ascending heartbeats as they saw the community hall curtains steadily part. There was much choking. Erica ran out only to be dragged back in again by her sister-in-law Sarah with great ambition. The younger of the grandchildren wailed in despair with a volume that deafened. All were in shock to see their mother and grandmother on an eight foot long stainless steel bar being spit roasted. Hairs removed from her body and her skin now cracked and leathery in hue.

“O my Christ! O Mother how can you do this to us?”
“I’m so sorry Mother. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want the money, Mummy. This is too horrible. Take me home.”
“Mummy, Daddy. I’m happy with the school up the road.”
“I’ll eat for the both of us Erica. Please forgive me.”
“No, no…It’s what mother…would have….wanted. O it’s all too much for me!”
“It’ll be offensive to burn all that money.”
“You’re gonna eat Nana’s nipples. You’re gonna eat Nana’s nipples.”

Cedric walked back to his position of banjo player in the jazz trio and resumed playing. Michael walked in front of his rotating wife and declared that he will have first slice. His family stilled in shock. Peter the Chef de Cuisine dextrously sharpened two long lethal knives and with one took a quarter inch thick cut of meat from Jacqueline’s hind quarters. Her offal was previously removed for ethical medical purposes. The trainee cook took the meat and placed it within two slices of a bread roll. Michael walked off the stage amongst his family and spoke with his mouth full, “I now hope you will all follow suit in showing the respect and loyalty to the one woman who cared for you to the point of self neglect as I have just done this afternoon.” Eating his late wife Mister Michael Harper danced to the traditional jazz of Cedric Rosenthal and his brothers.

Leo the trainee cook had a list of names to read from. He announced the first to come up and sample the woman. “Mr. and Mrs. Simon and Erica Quinn and their children Jason, Roberta and Timothy.”
“Tuck in kids. She’s there for the taking.” Muffled Michael spitting out crumbs and corpse. And present to watch the proceedings were the man who was originally on his left and the man who was originally on his right.

V

“Thank you for being all present. My colleague and I will hand you each the relevant sum of money in cash currency. Now the coffin is wax sealed so that nobody can get in, so my colleague will break open the lid with the axe you can see he is holding. If you will do the honours?”
“Certainly.”

“Erm.”
“Erm.”

“It’s bricks.”

“The bitch! The bitch! The bitch! The bitch tricked us! The bitch tricked us all!!!”
“Dad, it’s not funny. Dad, stop laughing. Stop laughing Dad. Dad. Dad? Dad! O Christ get an ambulance quick! You two goons get an ambulance now!”

© 2009 Clinton Morgan