THE FUNERAL PLANNER

Chapter 10 Part 2: Organizational Strategy - The Resurrection of Lights Out

Chapter 10 Part 2

A few nights later, I take time off from work. Sierra comes over. The two of us along with Siddhartha hang out on the deck. Dusk settles in and the night air’s temperature descends with the crisp smell of changing seasons.

Sierra occupies one lounge chair. I’m in the other. She reads through the pamphlet, her other hand free to pick up a mug of hot tea nearby. Siddhartha snuggles between my legs as I watch a cool breeze tickle a branch of muted green leaves. The leaves dance in the wind and it feels as if they are creating a collective modern-dance performance for my benefit, entertaining me, amusing me, teasing me. I watch, mesmerized by their performance. Who needs Broadway, I think, when I’ve got the Dance of the Leaves? Then the music of the wind gusts up and one leaf breaks from the group, ambitious for a solo performance. I watch the fading green leaf dismount and flutter in a routine of somersaults, flips and twisted backbends for a graceful and gentle land­ing on earth. Fall will soon be upon us.

Sierra signals that she’s finished by placing the closed pamphlet on her stomach. She whispers, “This is really great, Maddy. I’m amazed at how much you’ve learned.”

Uncomfortable with compliments, I skip her acknowledgment. “But how’s the quality of the writing?”

“It’s great. Will you try to get a publisher or self-publish it?”

I shake my head. “Publishing is too expensive, and I don’t want to spend the time looking.”

“Then how are you going to distribute it?”

“I made an e-version and put it online with PPV.” Sierra nods, impressed. “Clever. How much are you charg­ing for the pay-per-view?”

“Two dollars and ninety-nine cents.”

“That’s smart. You’re making it affordable for everyone. What’s your protection strategy?”

“I sent a copy to the Library of Congress to copyright it, and I hired a DRM company.”

“Digital rights management is safe now?”

“If it’s safe enough for the government, it’s safe enough for me. But just to make sure, I used my code based on Roman ciphers.”

We watch the stars twinkle. A shooting star goes by. “Quick, Maddy, make a wish.”

We both shut our eyes and then pop them open again and smile at each other.

“Still no word from Victor?” asks Sierra.

“Not since I last saw him...six weeks and two days ago.” “Okay, so you’ve got three to six weeks to go.”

“For what?” I ask, looking directly at her.

She stares at me. “They always call in threes, Maddy, and al­ways within twelve weeks. It has to do with oxytocin, the hor­mone that gets released when you’re intimate with someone. You’ll be hearing from him in three to six weeks. I promise.”

“Where did you come up with this theory?”

“I didn’t. It’s factual, and as reliable as the setting sun. The question is, what are you going to do when he contacts you?”

“First of all, he can’t contact me because...because he died...in my mind, a pseudo-death.”

Sierra raises a brow. “That deserves an explanation.”

“Nothing to explain. My brain conveniently reported that he lost it in a bowling alley, an attack of the giant bowling pins. Victor no longer exists.”