Callie had dreamt about for most of her life . Revenge . So sweet .
Exhausted now , Callie had lost the strength to continue with Prissy ’ s punishment . She had done enough , she reasoned . She felt almost silly for a moment . Was all this effort more symbolic than anything else ? Would she feel closure ? What sense did it make to beat up a corpse ? Did it give her some sort of pleasure ? Perhaps just knowing that Prissy was dead was probably enough . But her son . Her son ! That was the sin that added insult to injury . All this was for him and for Callie ’ s own peace of mind .
The big clock on the wall had stopped ticking and was now stuck on the number eleven . Callie figured it was well past that . Her work for the evening was far from over . There were two more bodies to bring down from the uppermost floor of the morgue . More papers to fill out . She zipped up Prissy ’ s body bag and returned the steel rod to the corner where she ’ d found it .
The elevator opened up on the second floor . Callie headed toward what was the school ’ s former art room where she had felt the happiest , painting with oils and acrylics , sketching faces of the other students . Now she was going to transport a Mr . Benjamin Kramer for one of his final outings . According to the paperwork , he was the former president of Darbel Plastics located in Rochdale who had died of natural causes . Only a sheet covered his long lean body , but not his feet which looked to be a size 13 . Callie unfolded another sheet so he would be completely covered and checked his chart . He had three
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