Spent the day traveling, but at least I’m back at home. And I have a new story! This one is a little wacky, not gonna lie…

I wasn’t late – I wasn’t!

I was… aggressively on-time. I slipped into the funeral home, saw the sign for “Richard Hall – Stateroom B,” and slipped into the back pew just as the tall, gaunt funeral director at the front next to the closed coffin nodded to one of his underlings to close the doors into the small room.

My gratefulness for making it on-time evaporated as I realized I didn’t recognize a single person there.

“First, please everyone take a moment to silence their cell phones,” the director said and I took that as an opportunity to do just that… and text Cheryl from accounting because she said she was coming too and why wasn’t she here?

I was furiously tapping out my message when a whisper from the person next to me startled me.

“How do you know Richard?”

Without looking up I whispered back, “We worked together.”

“Oh good,” he said, “because I don’t recognize anyone here…”

I turned to regard the man and realized with a start it was Richard!

The funeral director had introduced Richard’s brother to offer a few words about the deceased.

“Yeah, that’s not my brother…” Richard whispered as I gaped at him.

“Richard? You’re… you’re…”

“Dead? Yeah, I know… zero out of five stars, would not recommend – are you hearing this? He’s talking about my wife, Grace… I’m not married.”

The gears in my brain found traction and instead of getting hung up about Richard’s ghost sitting next to me, I followed his line of concern. “And he’d be way too old to be your brother… Right?”

“Yes – yes, he’s like seventy, Daryl. Do I look like my brother is seventy?”

“I mean, you’re a ghost. Maybe there’s a thing like, ‘Deceased don’t crease’”

“I’m going to haunt you, you know that? And jam the printer every single time…”

I let him threaten as I reached over to the pile of programs by the door. “Richard James Hall, 1941 – 2026” And the picture was absolutely not Richard – well, my friend Richard at least.

“Here’s the problem,” I showed Richard the program.

“Huh,” he said. “Richard James Hall. And I’m Richard Joseph Hall… What the hell are the odds?”

“Clearly better than getting hit by a bus,” I said.

Richard stared at me, “Too soon, Daryl…”

“You said you knew you were dead… But, okay, I’m an idiot and didn’t see there was a second service for Richard Joseph Hall at the same funeral hall at the same time – even though, in my defense, I never knew your middle name….”

“1941, Daryl! I clearly wasn’t born in 1941!”

“We just got that program, okay? But the bigger question is what’s your excuse? Why are you at the wrong funeral?”

“I’m not.”

“… Richard and I never missed a Giants home game,” the other Richard’s brother said, his voice breaking a little bit.

“The Giants are bums!” Richard stood up and yelled. No one heard, no one noticed.

Richard sat down again.

“What do you mean you’re not?”

“I’m right there,” Richard pointed to the front of the room.

“We just established this isn’t the funeral for you…”

“Yes, but it’s my body in that casket,” he said emphatically.

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah.”

I scooted on the pew to the entrance and quietly held the door for Richard as we quietly slipped out into the lobby. Looking at the announcement board that listed “Richard Hall – Stateroom B” also listed “Richard Hall – Stateroom A”

“Well, that’s not confusing at all…” Richard mumbled as I hurried us towards the already-closed door opposite.

I opened the door and all eyes turned to see who was late – any embarrassment was slightly alleviated by the fact that I recognized a number of the people eyeing my tardiness – including Cheryl from accounting.

The tall, gaunt man just inside the doors handed me a program.

“Whoa, he’s like a carbon copy of the other funeral director,” Richard said as he moved past me and into the back pew. “Twin funeral directors? That’s not creepy at all…”

I did my best to ignore him as I whispered to the director, “Umm, we might have a problem – I think there’s been a mix-up…”

“The two Richard Halls?” he whispered back. “That’s why we started this one ten minutes later – in case anyone came into the wrong service,” did he raise his eyebrow slightly there? Is he giving me shade?

“Yeah, no, that’s not the mix-up,” I started to say when the opening chords of Tom Petty’s “Wild Flowers” started playing loudly from the front of the room, indicating the start of the service.

“Oh, I love this song,” Richard said to me as I sat down next to him.

“I sure hope so – they’re starting your funeral with it.”

“Oh yeah,” Richard smiled. He turned to the older man next to him, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met.”

The man turned a look of bewilderment towards Richard, “I… I’m Richard Hall.”

My Richard tilted his head, “Oh really?” Then he turned to me, “Well, Daryl, here’s the other Richard.”

“Oh geez,” I said.

“Your brother gave a lovely eulogy.”

“My brother gave… and I missed it,” he looked deflated.

“I appreciate that you came to my funeral,” My Richard consoled.

“I didn’t have a lot of choice…”

My Richard turned back to me, “There it is, Daryl – confirmation of the mixup.”

“Okay,” I started to scoot back to the end of the pew. “Let me see what we can do.” When I reached the end I took Funeral Director 2’s elbow and whispered, “We need to talk…” and led him out into the entryway and carefully closed the door behind me. “You’ve got the Richards mixed up,” I said.

“Well, maybe you do – is that why you were late? Wrong hall?”

“Yes, what? Look, that’s besides the point,” I said. “I mean you have the wrong Richard in the wrong funerals.”

The man looked down his surprisingly pronounced aquiline nose at me when he replied, “I assure you we would never make that mistake.”

“Well, you did.”

“And how do you know this? Both caskets are closed.”

My Richard turned to Other Richard and said, “I got hit by a bus – what’s your excuse for a closed casket?”

I jumped at their appearance in the lobby behind me.

“Cancer just ate away at me – I look like one of those shrunken head dolls the cannibals display.”

“Hmm,” My Richard studied Other Richard, “That was so casually culturally offensive I’ll let it slide. But I can totally understand keeping the lid closed.”

“The.. uh… The Richards’ ghosts told me.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous…” Funeral Director 2 started but stopped as the door to the other stateroom opened and Funeral Director 1 came out.

“Aah!” My Richard gasped. “They really are funeral director twins! That’s weird…”

“Is everything alright out here?” Funeral Director 1 asked.

“This man was just accusing us of mixing up the bodies of the Richards,” his brother explained.

Funeral Director 1’s already pallid complexion paled to match the marble floor beneath him.

“Oh, is he joining us soon?” My Richard asked.

“He… he might be right,” FD1 stammered.

“What are you talking about?” FD2 demanded.

“I was wondering when the Halls, err, those Halls,” he pointed to the stateroom where Other Richard’s family was gathered, “I was wondering when the Halls switched to the New Pointe.”

“Batesville New Pointe… no, those Halls went with the Aurora Mahogany—oh good lord, how did this happen?”

“Yes, lurch,” My Richard crossed his arms and asked FD2. “How did this happen?”

FD1 rubbed at the bridge of his prodigious nose. “I don’t know… but…” he sighed deeply. “We’ll fix it in post.”

The Richards and I all repeated in unison, “’Fix it in post’?” I continued, “That… that’s not how it works, you can’t have Richard’s loved ones crying over the wrong body! What are you going to do, some macabre corpse shell game before putting them in the ground?”

FD2 gave a smile that chilled my blood, “Why, yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

I stepped back and let the FDs work on corpse logistics while I approached the Richards.

Other Richard looked towards the stateroom where his family was gathered. “I think I’m going to see the rest of my service.”

My Richard nodded and smiled. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Richard.”

“The feeling was mutual, Richard.” And they moved in for a bro hug.

“I’m sure we’ll see each other at the cemetery?”

“Pinecrest Memorial Gardens?” Other Richard asked.

“After all of this, of course we were going to end up at the same cemetery!”

Other Richard started towards the stateroom where his service was underway, but stopped before the door. “Oh, I heard your coworker, uh… Cheryl? She said she was going to talk about something that happened at the Christmas party.”

My Richard snapped his gaze to me, “We have to get in there – you have to stop her!”

“Okay, okay,” I said as My Richard was heading towards the other stateroom.

“If I may have everyone’s attention,” FD2 announced, hushing the muted conversations in My Richard’s stateroom. “We will be leaving for Pinecrest Memorial Gardens shortly. If you would like to be part of the procession, please see me outside.”

I was refilling my paper coffee cup from the industrial-looking coffee urn as My Richard’s family and our coworkers filed out.

“That was nice…” Richard said when we were alone.

“What’s that? Being late to your own funeral?”

“You will never successfully print a PDF again, you’re aware of that, right?”

I smiled, “You’re right, though, it was lovely – even Cheryl’s story.”

“Yeah, she really sanitized that…”

I suppressed a shudder, “That’s a good thing.” I smiled at Richard, “I’m really glad I got this chance to say goodbye, Richard – body swapping notwithstanding.”

“Me too, Daryl. I always knew I could count on you when I was living, this is literally above and beyond.”

“What is it they say, ‘Real friends help you move bodies.’”

Richard smiled, “Very true.”

Just then, FD2 came in looking frantic. “Have you seen my brother?”

I shook my head, “Not since he went to, uh, switch the Richards.”

“He’s not answering his phone…”

Just then, FD1 came into the room. “Oh, speak of the devil,” I said.

FD1 looked at me, then he looked at Richard and his mouth dropped open and  his eyes grew wide.

FD2 said, “What are you talking about? Do you know where he is or not.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake…” I said.