Roger Smythe sat behind the desk in his office in Smith's Home for Funerals. He picked up the Saturday paper and read it all, saving his preferred section for last. Finally, he turned to the obituaries. He took a green felt pen and placed a check mark on every funeral that had been handled by Smith's. He took a red felt pen and placed an "X" on every funeral from Harben's Funeral Home. He counted the green checks and wrote the total on his desk calendar. Then he wrote down the number of red Xs. He compared green to red. He sighed.

There were a lot of green checks. There were more red Xs, though. He read again the names with red Xs and sighed. Two millionaires, a councilman, and a minor local celebrity had red checks. Expensive, well attended funerals, leading to more funerals in the course of time. Expensive funerals, the best caskets, lots of limousines. The best efforts of the embalmer's arts for the viewing. All at Harben's. Always at Harben's.

Smith's had more than its fair share of funerals, but the eminent, the leaders of society, and the notorious, all used Harben's. They had chosen Harben's since the days of his grandfather, the founder of Smith's Funeral Home. Roger Smythe changed the spelling of Smythe to Smith 27 years ago when his father retired, after hearing repeated rumors that people thought "Smythe" was pretentious. It had not gotten him the business he desired. He had the better location, next to the Catholic Church, across from the Episcopal cathedral, and two blocks from the Jewish synagogue and the Methodist church. Limousine rental was the same whether the church was two blocks or two miles away.

He smelled bacon frying. His daughter, Ethel, called Ethie, would have breakfast ready soon. She lived in the apartment on the third floor with her husband, Aaron Sampson, student mortician, hearse driver, and monument company owner. Roger put the paper aside and took the elevator to her apartment.

Over breakfast, they discussed their plans for the weekend. There were no funerals scheduled until Tuesday, and unless Roger got a call to pick someone up, nothing to be done at the Home until Monday.

"The Catholic Church has its annual fair today, Pop," Ethie said. "Since you're not busy, want to come with Aaron and me?" She put a plate heaping with bacon, eggs, and toast before him.

Roger considered the offer. His wife, his other daughter, Raye, Raye's husband and two sons were at the grocery store, but they would show up at the fair. There were a lot of prominent Catholics who helped out at the fair, laymen, Knights of Columbus, and others. Roger thought Knights of Columbus lived almost forever, along with their wives, like his in-laws. He should know; he was a Knight himself. That meant a lot of family, other knights, and people from Catholic schools, not to mention local residents. The Church next door had an ancient priest, Monsignor Klempt, long retired, but sinking fast, so Roger heard at Knights' meetings. That funeral would undoubtedly go to Harben's, but why not go anyway? I can see from the Church if someone comes to Smith's, and walk over.

"Sure, I'll go, Ethie," Roger said. "Let me call your Ma and let her know I'm going to the fair with you. She'll meet us there. Aaron, are you free to go with me to Conecara Casket Company on Monday? I'd like you to start learning how to select coffins. Not to mention your muscles. I may want to bring something back."

"Ok, Pop," said Aaron, helping himself to the last of the scrambled eggs and two more slices of toast. Aaron could seemingly lift any casket without getting a hernia. Although after moving tombstones around, a casket probably seemed easy. "We taking the hearse?"

"Yeah, that'll do."

Four hours later, after buying his grandsons every ride and food delicacy offered, and upon his second hot dog (the wife of the Grand Master of the Knights ran the booth), two sodas, and many cheap game prizes later, Roger needed to sit down. It was either the pony ride or the fortune teller. He bought his grandsons tickets for another pony ride. The ponies eyed him warily. He told them, "Relax, I'll get my fortune told."

"I'm going to see Mrs. Fonzer and get my fortune," he said to his family.

"You mean Madame Mist, Pop," Aaron said, around a mouthful of hot dog. He held half a hot dog in one hand and two whole ones in the other. "She doesn't like being called Mrs. Fonzer when she's working. Says it jangles the vibrations, or something."

"Madame Mist, Madame Mist. Yeah, any of you want to come?"

"No thanks, Pop. We're going to try the cakewalk again," Aaron said hopefully. He finished the half hot dog and started on a whole one.

"I'll meet you at the cake walk in half an hour," said Roger.

"We'll wait for you there afterwards," said Ethie. They went in the direction of a line of people shuffling around and around in a small circle while music played. Roger walked into Madame Mist's tent, a collection of unmatched bed sheets hung on clotheslines.

"Two dollahs for your fortune, noble sir", she said in a fake gypsy accent, a mix of several accents. "Cross my palm with silver." She held out one hand and pointed to some small silver tokens on the wobbly card table. "Pick one and make an "X" on my palm. It means I'm sworn to tell you the truth."

Roger picked up a silver dime and dragged it across her palm.

"Good choice, Roger," she said in her normal voice. "I mean, noble sir," she said, returning to the fake gypsy accent. "It means financial prosperity for you."

He put the coin on the table. 

"Now, noble sir, do you want your palm read, the crystal ball or the cards? Palm or ball, three dollars each, cards five dollars."

"Crystal ball," said Roger, and handed her three dollars. She put them in her apron pocket, adjusted her turban theatrically, and pulled the crystal ball over to her. On other days it was the silver viewing ball that sat on a pedestal in her front yard. Ed had seen it there for many years. Madame Mist had been telling fortunes at the church fair and other places for fifty years, since Roger was young. She had a local reputation as a better-than-average fortune teller.

As she began to hum and stare into the ball, Roger looked her over. Good color, got around well for her age, some of her own teeth. Another 15 years at least.

His musings were interrupted when Madame Mist began to speak.

"Interesting, ver-ry interesting." She had switched to her fake Gypsy accent. "You haf a bit of the sight yourself." In her normal voice, she said, "Never noticed it before, Roger. Wonder why it's popping up now? Oh, well."

"What?" Roger asked, confused. "What sight?"

"True," said Madame Mist, back in the gypsy accent. You haf small gift of sight." In her normal voice, "Let me warn you, advise you, as I am in truth and duty bound to do, this gift of the sight should not be used only for personal gain, or to cheat others. It will be a curse on you then."

"Reeeeally?" said Roger, half laughing.

"Really," said Madame Mist so thoughtfully that Roger laughed no more.

"You will have another grandson late next year, Ethie and Aaron's son. They will name him after you, because..." she stopped.

"Depends, they'll name him after you either way."

"Either way? I can't lose. This is a strange fortune."

"It's a little foggy here. The future isn't always set. It depends on what you do, although this grandson will be named after you. Your business will prosper in the coming years."

"That's the kind of fortune I like," said Roger. "Biggest in town, hunh?"

"Oh, yes," said Madame Mist. "Biggest funeral and crematory business in the northern part of the state, not just here."

Roger sighed wistfully. His own crematorium. His dream. Mrs. Fonzer made a few more predictions before dropping a scarf over the ball.

"Zat is all," she returned to gypsy mode.

"Thank you, Madame Mist," said Roger, as he got up.

"Remember what I told you," said Mrs. Fonzer.

"My business will prosper and I will have another grandson."

"About the sight," she said gently. "It will not be used only to benefit the one who has it. It must also be used to help others."

Roger gave her a funny look.

She smiled at him. "What? You think I have to be in a little bed sheet tent at a church fair?"

"Can you see that in my future, Mrs. Fonzer?" Roger laughed.

"I told you, some of the future cannot be seen because it depends on the actions you yourself choose to make. I can only give you hints and warnings."

"Thanks again," said Roger, and left.

After all those sodas, he needed to use the restroom and decided to use the one at the funeral home. He found Ethie and Aaron at the cakewalk. Aaron was peeking inside a cake box and licking his lips. He told them where he was going and Ethie gave him the cake to take, saying she didn't want Aaron to eat it all at the fair.

Msgr. Klempt came over, walking slowly with the help of two canes to say hello.

"Roger, I wanted to thank you again for your help with the burial of the Ramirez child last week. So sad, the baby dying of cancer at 6 months old. The family ending up so much in debt they couldn't pay for the funeral or a tombstone."

"Monsignor, I never like to turn anyone away because they can't pay. The Knights and the parish helped cover some of the costs. Aaron provided the tombstone. Thank him for that."

Aaron grinned nervously. He had provided a small tombstone for the Ramirez child at far less than cost, in addition to throwing in the engraving and placement for free. He felt Roger's silent disapproval of such excessive generosity although Roger never said anything against it. Roger never refused to bury someone because of a lack of money, but he never gave more than the minimum necessary. Aaron didn't know exactly how Roger felt about such generous discounts if Aaron felt the family could not afford a tombstone.

"Thank you, Aaron. The Ramirez's were so happy to be able to afford a tombstone for their child, especially one with a vase. They told me they remember all of you in their prayers."

"We're glad to do what we could, Monsignor," said Roger. "You know you can call on us."

After a few more comments, Klempt walked away and spoke to someone else.

"He's looking good for his years, isn't he?" said Aaron.

"Yeah," said Roger, gloomily. End of the year at the latest, Monsignor, Roger estimated, and thought wistfully of the funeral Harben's would provide.

Monday afternoon found Roger and Aaron at Conecara Casket Company, looking at coffins and urns with their usual salesman, Ed Conecara. He was a source of funeral gossip for three states, and Ed learned much about what home handled what funeral from him.

After Roger made his selections, Ed said, "Let me show you something special. It's been here for years. A couple of other homes have turned it down. Harben's asked about it lately." He led them into another room. Lying in state on cinderblocks was a magnificent mahogany casket. Brass handles and fittings, a gold plate waiting to be engraved. Roger stared at it enviously. His vision blurred and he staggered. Aaron put out a hand to hold him up. Smith's had never had a call for a coffin like this in its entire ninety-year history. He walked over to it, ran his hands over the smooth surface. It was far too expensive to keep on hand until it might be needed. His vision blurred again and he shook his head. He lifted the top half of the lid and, again, his vision blurred. When his sight refocused, he saw Msgr. Klempt laid out in the casket, holding his rosary. The fine silk lining showed through him. Shocked, Roger dropped the lid. The bang echoed off the walls.

"What's the matter, Pop?" Aaron asked. "Do you feel ok?"

"Yeah, sure," said Roger. He lifted the lid slowly and peeked in. Msgr. Klempt's specter or whatever, was still there. What's wrong with me. "Let's go in the other room for a minute. You are right, Ed, this coffin is special."

In the other room he saw faces floating over several of the caskets. He didn't know most them. A few he recognized. He recognized the accident-prone, elderly wife of an ancient Knight of Columbus. At a party recently, with her arm in a cast from a fall in the tub, she told him that on her last visit her doctor said she was as healthy as a woman ten years younger. People were always telling him how healthy they were. He never disagreed or suggested they make out a will. Ever since his teens he had the knack of eyeballing a person and knowing just how sick or healthy they really were, better than any doctor, though he never offered his opinion any more. He could practically smell the dangerously accident-prone from across the room.

Roger almost ran into the room with the urns for the ashes of those cremated. At first, he couldn't see dead people there. Then he realized faces, eyes closed in death, were floating over a few of the urns. He recognized the face of Representative Gregory floating over a handsome black marble urn. He closed his eyes. He opened them again. Representative Gregory's face was still there.

"I'm going to the restroom," he said and hurried in there. He washed his face and looked at it in the mirror. Mrs. Fonz—Madame Mist's words repeated in his mind: 'You have the sight.' He understood he could see in some caskets and urns the person who would rest there. Msgr. Klempt, Rep. Gregory, men, women, children. And he thought what this would do for business at Smith's Home for Funerals. He remembered Madame Mist's warning. "Do not use the sight only for your personal gain." Something about a curse. There could be no curse unless I'm overcharging or imagining this or going mad.

He returned to the other room. He changed his order. Much to Aaron and Ed's surprise he insisted on buying the mahogany casket and the black marble urn right then and there. He ordered the coffin for the elderly wife. He added a few other inexpensive items to his order. He had the mahogany casket put in the hearse so they could drive it to Smith's then and there. He carried the black marble urn in his lap. He put them safely in his storeroom. He told Aaron to go home; Ethie was waiting, but he looked at the faces of Rep. Gregory and Msgr. Klempt for a long time before he closed the funeral home and left.

The next day he saw someone's image in a coffin he hadn't seen there last night. A week later he got a call and the deceased was the person he had seen in the coffin. This happened several times with coffins and urns. Finally, Roger realized that up to two months before the coffin or urn would be needed, he could see who it would be needed for. He'd had the mahogany casket and black marble urn for nearly three weeks. He waited to see when, or if, he would get the calls.

Two days after that, a sad priest called Roger to arrange Msgr. Klempt's funeral. The fine mahogany coffin was bought for his mortal remains by a wealthy parishioner. During the viewing, Roger saw the accident-prone woman from the party and the casket talking to Aaron. Afterwards, Aaron told him she was to stop by the next day to plan her funeral for when it would be necessary, although her doctor had told her she was in great shape for her age. Just in time. Roger asked Aaron to help her when she came in. Aaron had a tactful way of handling prearrangement business. Twelve days later she fell down the stairs and died from injuries to her head.

The day after Msgr. Klempt's funeral someone from Rep. Gregory's office called to arrange his funeral. Roger didn't ask about the rumor that the Representative had choked to death on steak at his mistress's apartment. Roger gave the Representative's ashes, in the black marble urn, to a not-entirely-grieving widow, who planned to take his vacant seat and fire his secretary/mistress.

Prominent funeral after prominent funeral followed, and soon Roger's business had doubled in volume and several times that in profit, mainly because of his ability to know what coffins and urns would be needed soonest. He selected the more expensive items that would naturally go along with the most elaborate funerals. He bought a second limousine with Aaron's brother, Bill, to drive it. He never turned down someone because they couldn't afford a funeral, but seldom needed to do so. Roger fulfilled a lifelong dream when he bought a partnership in a crematorium. He also bought, cheaply, a funeral business a few towns over, where he planned to install Aaron in the summer when he graduated from mortuary school. Ethie was pregnant and told him the child would be a boy named after him.

Shortly after that, after the church Spring Fair, Roger and Aaron were at Conecara Casket Company to pick up an urn. Ed looked over the coffins to see if he wanted any. He opened the lid of an impressive oak coffin with bronze handles and froze, terrified. He saw himself laid out in the coffin. Gasping for breath, he shut the lid. He opened the lid. He, or his image, was still there. He was so dizzy Aaron had to help him to the car. He recovered himself enough to send Aaron back in to insist on buying the oak casket and to have it delivered that night.

"Is something wrong, Pop?" Aaron asked.

"I've seen a ghost," Roger said.

"Ha, ha." Aaron laughed. He thought Roger was joking.

Roger placed the coffin in his basement, locked away where no one but he could see it. He spent every night in the room staring at it. He would open the lid, look at himself and shut it. He wondered how long his image had been there. He gave away the suit he saw himself wearing. The next night when he looked in the coffin, he was laid out in a different suit. He gave that one away too. He saw himself in a third suit, but couldn't find it in his closet.

"Honey," he asked his wife," where's my new blue suit? The single-breasted one?"

"At the dry cleaner's," she told him. "Remember, you spilled coffee on it last week."

"Well, pick it up and give it to the men's shelter."

She stared at him.

"You've been acting...different the last few days, Roger," she said. "Is something wrong?"

"No!" He almost shouted. "I just don't want that suit any more. Get rid of it somehow." She changed the subject and spoke to Aaron and Ethie. They told her Roger spent every night in the locked room with an oak coffin. They agreed he had to see a doctor.

Roger refused their request to see a doctor. He had an idea and told them he would get rid of the oak coffin. He had Aaron help him load it into the hearse. That night after Aaron and Ethie were in bed, he drove the hearse to the mortuary where he was a partner. When he got there, he had the attendants unload the casket and take it to the oven.

"I want it burned. Nothing left but ashes. Do you understand?"

"There's nobody in it," one of the attendants said. "We don't burn caskets."

"Look," Roger said, struggling to control himself. "It's not illegal to burn an empty casket. I'll pay you each $500 to do it tonight."

The attendants were puzzled, but burned the casket as Roger had told them to do. An extra $500 didn't come their way every week. Two days later, Roger picked up the bag of ashes from the coffin. They gave him another bag with the bronze fittings. Roger was relieved when he couldn't see his face floating over the ashes. He put the bags in the bottom drawer of his desk and locked it. He would scatter the ashes far away in Mexico when he went there on his next vacation.

For the next few days, Roger's behavior was normal, and his family relaxed. They didn't want to ask what had become of the coffin. The attendants at the mortuary told Aaron what Roger had them do, not mentioning the $500 each. Aaron told his wife and mother-in-law. Since Roger's behavior was back to normal, they decided whatever had caused the aberration was over, and best to let well enough alone.

The next evening Roger was driving home when he had a heart attack and died at the wheel. The car kept rolling until it crashed into an electric pole. The wires fell, setting the car on fire. By the time the firemen put out the fire Roger and the car were almost completely incinerated.

Roger's family decided the only thing to do was cremate Roger anyway, although some might think it tactless at the least. Aaron made a special trip to Conecara to pick an urn for his father-in-law. He chose a simple but elegant white marble urn, white marble being Roger's favorite stone.

Back in the office, he was looking through Roger's desk and unlocked the bottom drawer. He found the bag of ashes there. He took them out. He knew what they were from. His mother-in-law told him he might as well put the ashes in the urn with Roger's. Aaron did as she suggested.

When he brought her the urn with Roger's ashes, he said, "I don't know why, Ma, but when I saw this urn, I just knew it was right for Pop. I knew he'd rest at peace in this urn." It was a gift that served Aaron well in the years ahead.