"What do you mean dad's dead, Mom? That's not funny!" I said. "Is this what you called me for, some practical joke?"
"No, honey, your father is in the garage, I needed your help," my mom said.
She seemed remarkably calm.
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"What? You're serious?" I got up from the kitchen table, the same kitchen table I'd grown up eating breakfast at and went to the garage door.
I paused, on the trim beside the door were the height markings of me, my brother, and our dog, Sam, from the time I could walk, until my senior year in high school, ten years ago. The rest of the kitchen was freshly painted, but dad insisted this stay.
The two hour drive had left me drowsy and I still couldn't quite believe what she was saying.
"In the garage?" I asked.
She nodded.
The garage was dark and I half expected my father to jump out of a corner. Not that this was his style, but maybe dementia was kicking in. I looked around. I flipped the light switch and the same flickering fluorescence my father had promised my mom to replace, when I was eight working on my Pinewood derby car, came to life over the work bench.
He was there. He was in his summer uniform, except for his cap. The blue shorts revealing legs still white from the recent winter. As the light finally came to life, I saw his face, swollen, and purple. Oh, dear God, my father was dead.
But that wasn't the weirdest thing about this situation.
"Mom, could you come out here a second?"
"Oh honey, do I have to? Dragging him back from the Munson's was about all I could bear," she said.
"You dragged him..." I looked around, for some sign of sanity. "Why, mom? Why did you drag him? Why is he in the garage? Why didn't you call an ambulance?"
The whys just kept piling up in my head. I didn't want to overwhelm her, she was obviously in shock.
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that, and I had to hide the body. The garage is the only place without new flooring, dear," she said.
A lump rose in my throat, but the question had to be asked.
"Did you kill him?"
"What? Oh, heavens no! Why would you ask that? I loved your father, well, I liked him, sort of, the man was insufferable, but he was all I had," she said. A tear ran down her cheek.
"Sorry mom, but why else would you need to hide the body?" I asked.
"Hose heisters," she said. "Bandmxo88, to be exact."