Hitched

20

Several miles off the Garden State Parkway, and not that far from Atlantic City, Marco and Francis wandered into a store that was nationally famous for its great bargains on appliances. A salesman approached them with his most winning smile.

“My name is Roy. What can I do for you this afternoon?” he asked.

“We’re looking for a dishwasher,” Marco said matter-of-factly.

Roy clapped his hands together. “A dishwasher? No problem. For some reason I thought you guys would be in the market for power drills or electric chainsaws.”

“We’re not,” Marco answered in a now unfriendly tone.

“The dishwasher is a present for my girlfriend,” Francis hastened to add.

“Fantastic!” Roy enthused. “I have a super-duper model she’s just going to love. It gets the dishes clean as a whistle and it’s so quiet you barely know it’s on.” He pointed to a large machine.

“Got one a little smaller?”

A half hour later Marco and Francis pulled the car up to the back of the store where they could load Joyce’s present into the back seat. Smiling Roy was waiting. He was an enthusiastic salesman who saw to it that his customer received the best possible service from the time they walked through the door until they pulled away with their purchases.

“Hey guys!” he boomed, tapping Marco’s trunk. “Pop this baby open and we’ll load you up.”

“Our trunk is full,” Marco said gruffly. “We’re going to put it in the backseat. First we want to take it out of the box.”

“Now?”

“Now. But we want to keep the box in case we have to return the dishwasher.”

“That’s all right!” Roy said, always eager to please. “If you bring it back, you won’t need the box-”

“I want the box!” Marco snarled.

“It’s all yours!” Roy blurted nervously.

They pulled the front seat all the way forward, wedged the dishwasher into the backseat, and crammed the cardboard box in next to it. Marco and Francis drove off, the sight of smiling, waving Roy receding from the rearview mirror.

They couldn’t hear the comments he was making under his breath.

“He was suspicious of us,” Francis moaned.

“No he wasn’t. All he cares about is his commission.”

“What now?”

“Time to find a secluded spot.”

Francis sighed. “Around here?”

“Hopefully.”

They drove around and around and around, not wanting to veer too far from their final destination of Atlantic City. Marco cut down side streets, but they couldn’t find anywhere that would give them the privacy they needed. Eventually, he turned onto a two-lane road that became increasingly wooded and suddenly took a sharp curve. Once around the bend, Marco whistled with satisfaction at the sign ahead.

WELCOME TO THE HEAVENLY REST CEMETERY

GATE CLOSES AT DUSK

The imposing, black-iron gate was wide open.

“Hurry!” Francis ordered. “I don’t know what time dusk is but I think it’s around now.”

Marco stepped on the gas. They sailed through the entryway, past a religious statue whose outstretched arms welcomed them, and glided down a sloping road. Rows of tombstones could be seen in all directions. At a fork in the road, they went left and up a hill. Large mausoleums were facing each other on either side of the narrow path. Marco pulled over and stopped the car. Without a word, they both got out.

All was silent except for the rustling of the breeze and the occasional chirp of a bird.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Francis asked anxiously.

“It’s closing time,” Marco said. “Everybody’s gone except maybe the guy who’ll lock up.”

They pulled the empty dishwasher box out of the backseat, placed it on the ground behind the car, and opened the trunk. The four wedding gowns were in a jumble. One by one they pulled them out and stuffed them down into the rough cardboard container.

“I hope they’ll all fit,” Francis fretted.

“We’ll make them fit,” Marco said resolutely as he gave a final squash to the dresses that Alfred and Charisse had labored over so lovingly. “Give me the tape.”

Francis leaned in the trunk and grabbed a roll of masking tape they’d used with the ropes to bind Alfred and Charisse’s hands.

Marco closed the sides, sealed the box, and they tossed it into the trunk. Quickly, they got back in the car and drove off.

A moment later a visitor to the cemetery teetered out from behind one of the mausoleums. Something on the ground caught her eye. The elderly woman leaned down and picked up a beautiful, antique-white lace button that had fallen off one of the dresses. “Oh, darling,” she whispered as she walked back to her husband’s tombstone. “Whenever I visit, you always give me a sign that you know I’m here, don’t you?” Smiling, she examined the button that reminded her of the buttons on her wedding dress. The dress she’d worn exactly sixty years ago today. “It’s got a tiny logo with the initials A and C on the back,” she said aloud. “Too bad they’re not our initials, sweetheart, but I’ll treasure it all the same.”

A moment later her driver pulled up. He turned off the radio before she got in the car. He’d been listening to Jess and Kenny.