Fiction: Miss Never & The Mortician's Craving

This month's Words for Wednesday prompts are provided by Sean Jeating and is hosted at Elephant's Child's blog over here. Last week's prompts: funeral, moon, splendiferously, sun, coffin, and/or afraid, biased, crows, nutrition, worms. This week's prompts: art, awe, love, moonlit, sleeping and/or beauty, breathless, dreamscape, face, oxygen.

Fiction: Miss Never & The Mortician's Craving
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01
"You're hired!" was something Liberty Elizabeth Never had heard many times before which often was followed a little later by "You're fired!" When she was fired from Piller and Small Fine Dinning, she shrugged away the slight rejection and simply added the name to a long list of places she was employed. Only through her splendiferously strong will did she survive each letdown, at least, that was what her father used to say.
    It's a been one month since Libby started working as an an assistant to a mortician at Eternal Glory Funeral Parlor. She wouldn't have chose to work there but she didn't want to be homeless and broke.
    Tonight, as Libby opened the back door to the basement of Eternal Glory, came sounds of caw caw from the crows that resided in the tall trees that framed the entrance of the five-story building. She paused and looked up at the sky. The full moon never looked more brilliant. Cold wind swept over her. She shivered in her coat and stepped inside. She hoped it wasn't a bad sign. It was the last week of October and nearing Halloween so it was natural to feel a trickle of disquiet.
    Usually Libby kept the same hour of 7 pm to 11 pm but this week, her employer had asked Libby to work longer hours citing a backlog of bodies to prepare. If she didn't get overtime pay, Libby wouldn't even agree.
    Before coming to work Libby had two sandwiches and a glass of milk. Her father had always said milk was full of nutrition and that Libby should drink more of it. Birds fed their young worms but her father fed Libby words. He had a great love for words and he studied them like art. In all of his fifty-four years, he had never spoke a useless word. She was always in awe of his ability to make you feel you are completely understood with just words.
     Libby yawned as she walked down the hallway toward the workroom. She wished she was sleeping. During the day with the sun out, it was hard to get to sleep. Not that she was much of a beauty but lack of sleep sure made her looked worst than usual. She had good skin and her features were perfectly symmetrical. Her father said symmetry is beauty. He had said Libby's mother was a breathless beauty with perfect symmetry. Libby had no memory of her mother. Some twenty-six years back, she left Libby at a gas station. If she hadn't called Libby's father to come and get her, Libby would have ended up a missing baby.
    
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02
Even though it was the lowest level of the building, the basement was actually on the ground floor. Inside the workroom was like a dreamscape. The spacious room was moonlit with slants of lights coming from the two large windows on the left wall. With the lights above off, the grey walls seemed to disappear into the deep shadows. The only light on was the spotlight over the body Ramona Hue, the mortician, was standing over. Nearby, the other two empty steel tables were in semi-darkness.
    Ramona Hue was about forty, fifteen years older than Libby. Behind her googles, Ramona's gray-blue eyes looked up when Libby entered. Her smooth, tan face was covered by a clear plastic face shield and her black hair was pulled into a bun and covered with a light blue scrub cap. "Libby, nice of you to join me. Suit up," she said. If she was afraid of dead bodies, Ramona never showed it. At first, Libby was a bit biased by her stoic disposition but after a while, she understood why Ramona had to be that way. Preparing bodies for their final burial was hard enough so keeping emotions away made the work easier.
    Quickly, Libby turned to the left where three lockers lined the wall and pulled the first one open and dropped in her bag and hung her coat inside. Without a pause, she put on her work boots, surgical gown, scrub cap, goggles, clear plastic face shield and gloves.
    "I'm almost done with Mr. Gardener. Would you prepare Mrs. Gardener next?" said Ramona. It was unusual to have married couples as clients so Ramona preferred to work on them on the same day. Being stronger than most men, Libby could easy move bodies about though she disliked doing it. Her rubber gloves were long and thick unlike Rina's thin ones. The gloves kept Libby from actually touching skin but it didn't help with blocking out what she saw. Ramona preferred not to talk much while she worked but every word she said was never frivolous. Libby liked her for as she reminded her of her father.
     After finishing up three more unfortunate souls, Libby laid down the last one on the table. The sound of a grunt cut the silence. She looked up. Suddenly, it felt as if Libby was not getting enough oxygen. What the hell this is? Ramona had stripped away her face shield, goggles, cap, gown, all thrown on the floor and was looking like a mad woman in her white suit with her hair askew around her head. Her facial features were twisted like she was either angry or hungry, Libby wasn't sure which. She looked behind Ramona toward the only exit. She couldn't out run Ramona not when she was barely five-foot-five to Ramona's six feet.
    Ramona ran like a speed demon around the room until she finally stopped and banged the steel door until it fell backward and slipped right out.

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03
Libby stared at the fallen door. Should she follow? It wasn't as if she was paid that much. So what if her employer suddenly went mad? Libby's father's voice came into her head - if you don't help when you can then why are you here?
    That day, after Libby had accepted the job, they sat at Ramona's office to sign the contract. Just after Libby signed all the papers, Ramona had said, "If I go mad during a full moon, like I was possessed by a wild animal, searching for fruit or anything that's not meat, as I'm a vegetarian, would you help me in any way you can?" Libby had thought the woman was joking but Ramona had a deadly serious look on her face. But then a few moments later, she chuckled and said, "Just a little office humor." Libby had smiled but she didn't believe Ramona was joking.
    Libby pulled off her face shield, goggles, gloves and ran out the door. The stairwell was dimly lit by wall washer sconces. Up the stairs, Libby stopped on the first floor where all types of ceremonies were held. The place was empty and no Ramona.
    The second floor was the showroom full of models of coffins and gravestones. When Ramona had given Libby a tour of the showroom, she had offered Libby a discount for her choice of coffin but Libby had said she would think about it though she rather not.
    The third floor was two conference rooms with two bathrooms and a closet but Ramona hadn't been.
    Libby's legs ached as she stepped on the fourth floor landing. She opened the door to the breakroom that was styled like a cafe. In the corner, the large white refrigerator with the contents spilling out had its door laying on the floor. Most of the tables and chairs were turned over and some dishes and coffee mugs were broken and scattered about but no Ramona.
    The fifth floor was divided into three spaces for office use. Nothing was disturbed here. Libby paused at the threshold to catch her breath. Why had she forgot about the elevator?
    The roof could only be reached by a short flight of stairs. Limply, Libby climbed the stairs. The door to the roof was torn off its hinges and stood at an angle beside the opening. Out in the cold air, Libby had a sudden thought that Ramona had jumped to her death but no, she was just running around the wide empty roof like she didn't know where to go. Ramona paused and got onto the top of the railing and jumped over. Libby rushed over and peered down. Ramona had landed safely on the streets. She was looking up at Libby. The street lights were behind Ramona so Libby couldn't see her face but Ramona grunted out "Wat-ere!" with a horsed voice.
    Water? Libby wasn't sure what Ramona had said. She ran out the roof doorway, down the stairs, across the fifth floor and out the other entrance and took the elevator to the ground level. Out in the streets, Ramona was sitting in her red corvette as if waiting for Libby. Libby got into the passenger seat. When she turned to face Ramona and met her eyes which were a deep blue, the word Watermelons sounded in Libby's head. She had the ability to hear someone's desire as thoughts in her head and in her own voice. Ramona was craving watermelons.

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04
Apparently screaming at the top of your lungs while inside a corvette with the windows down didn't attract much attention even in the almost quiet street. Libby stopped screaming after a while as her throat was getting sore and drying. Still, she kept both hands wrapped around her seatbelt to keep steady as they sped through traffic lights and passing cars. There were few pedestrians about but Libby saw them as blurs. She didn't know why she didn't offer to drive but she didn't have the energy to contemplate through her fears. The car screeched to a stop and Libby almost slammed her head on the dashboard.
    "Watch where you're going, you moron!" shouted the man in front of their car. He slammed his hand on the hood. Ramona got out. Libby followed with shaky legs.
    Ramona bared her teeth and growled as she stared down at the man. Somehow she was three feet taller than him. "You know what? It's my fault. Sorry!" he said and took off.
    As Ramona was reaching for the door to the driver's side, Libby placed a hand on her arm. "Let me drive," said Libby though she really wasn't sure it was a good idea but if she was to die, she should be driving. Traffic was light and people were few. Checking her wrist watch, she noted it was fifteen minutes after midnight. Where to get watermelons at this time? Are they even in season? Every store they passed was closed.
    "Gro-er," said Ramona.
    Grocer? That's right! A grocery store would have watermelons. Where was her head? Libby was clearly sleep deprived. But where was the nearest grocery store? She wasn't all that familiar with this side of town as she lived a bit farther from down. She studied the streets while keeping her eyes in front of her and now and then, glanced at Ramona.
    Without notice, Ramona suddenly pressed her foot on top of Libby's on the accelerator. Libby screamed and shouted, "Remove your foot! Dammit!" The car sped forward. Ramona grabbed the wheel and turned them to the right and then around a corner and then straight again until Ramona removed her foot from atop Libby's and pressed the brake and they halted. Libby thought she might just lose her dinner. Ramona was opening the car door and was running out before Libby had time to feel the relief from the pain in her foot. Even in her high heels, Ramona was fast and steady.
    Libby released her seatbelt and sat for a moment. She should probably take up jogging if that was what this job required. Reluctantly, she got out of the car but her movement was a bit shaky. Ramona had driven the car straight through the welded wire fence, the gate was under the car. The sign hanging on the fence that was still standing said Harold's Extravagant Grocer.
    In the distance, was a three-story brown building surrounded by wide open space for customer parking. Two lampposts framed the entrance were lit while the four surrounded the space were out. She checked her wrist watch - almost an hour after midnight. Going farther in, Libby could see the front entrance to the store was behind security shutters. There was no signs of damage. A few scream rang out through the silence. Libby race around toward the back of the building. Her foot struck an orange. It rolled toward the litters of fruits and vegetables on the ground. She followed them toward a separate, shorter brown building with a wide, opened entrance. An old man with eyes closed, left hand on a wine bottle, was sitting on a chair against the wall to the entrance. Libby checked him for a pulse - he was alive. His brown uniform said Nightcap Security.
    Inside the smaller building was lit by several light bulbs hanging from above. The place was lined with steel shelves full of boxes. Some had toppled over with many boxes spilling their content. Libby dodged fallen fruits and vegetables until she found Ramona. She was lying on a bunch of crushed, half-opened boxes with her mouth wide opened with red liquid leaking out, eyes closed, the front of her white suit covered soaked in red. She was surrounded by hollowed out watermelons.    
    Libby scoffed and looked around. The two cameras mounted to the walls were both were knocked down and hanging by wires. Libby was sure it was Ramona's doing. Ramona groaned, opened her eyes and tried to get up but she kept falling back down. "Help me," she said in a whisper. Libby ran to her and pulled her up by her arms.
    As they were leaving, the security guard shouted, "Hey, what the hell happened here? Come back here!" As quickly as she could, Libby half carried, half walked Ramona toward the car. The woman had no energy and barely moved. Libby looked back. The guard was chasing them but he didn't seem to be going that fast. Libby lifted Ramona up and ran to the car. She put the woman in the backseat and got in and backed up the car. The guard was still coming toward them but then he sagged toward the ground and seemed to be sleeping.
    Libby slowed the car down once they were farther away. Only when she got a glance of herself in the rearview mirror did she notice she still had her scrub cap over her hair. She pulled it off and threw it on top of the dashboard and ran a hand through her short hair. In the backseat, Ramona sat up. "Don't ask questions til tomorrow. I need rest," she said and leaned back and closed her eyes.
    Libby glanced at Ramona in the rearview mirror but said nothing. If this was the kind of nights she will have to face in the future and there will certainly be a lot of full moons, she was going to ask for a raise.