DAVID PRILL

DATING SECRETS OF THE DEAD

HEY, JERRY, THERE’S THAT new girl.

Oh, yes. Hername’s Caroline May Ames. She’s a swell kid.

Why? Do you know her?

Not very well, Bud. I wish I did.

I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about her you like.

Well, she always looks nice for one thing.

They all look nice, at first….

Jerry hadn’t had a date in an eternity. He didn’t know why. They had dressed him so stylishly. His black dress shoes had such a sheen to them. His wispy brown hair was trimmed and combed. His cheeks had a ruddy, outdoorsy hue. His fingernails had once been nicely manicured — now they had grown long. Too long. Maybe that was it. Maybe his uncut fingernails were turning off the girls.

No, it had to be more than that.

All in all, I look pretty sharp, he thought.

Then maybe it’s my personality or personal habits.

I’m soft-spoken — my breath would hardly fog a mirror.

Polite. To a fault.

Interesting experiences to share. Absolutely. My life review was a gripping melodrama.

Jerry didn’t want to face rejection again, but he did like that new girl, Caroline May Ames. They had exchanged small talk once before, the day she arrived. They were in the same row, after all. She was so pretty. Her white dress had ivory beads and lace. Her blonde hair cascaded comfortably over her shoulders. She had such a peaceful look on her face.

He called for her.

Hi, Caroline. This is Jerry.

Oh hi, Jerry.

I was wondering, Caroline, if you want to go out with me tonight?

Tonight? I’m sorry, I can’t, Jerry. I already have a date for tonight. Why don’t you call some other time?

Oh, okay. Thanks anyway, Caroline. Bye.

Goodbye, Jerry.

Strike out, Jerry thought, feeling dejected. Didn’t she like him? She acted like she did. Then why didn’t she want to go out with him?

He decided to ask Bud about it. Bud had been around longer than Jerry, and always seemed to have good advice to share.

…so I don’t know what happened. I asked Caroline for a date, and she turned me down flat.

How long did the conversation last?

Not long. A minute or so.

That’s good. Your call shouldn’t go on for hours. That’s a pretty sensible attitude. When did you ask her to go out with you?

Tonight.

There’s your problem. Be sure not to wait until the last minute to ask a girl for a date. It’s no compliment to any girl to call her so late that she thinks she’s the last resort.

I never thought of that. Thanks a lot, Bud.

Glad to help, fella.

Jerry tried again the next day.

Hi, Caroline, this is Jerry.

Hi, Jerry.

Caroline, uh, I don’t suppose you’d wan t to go out with me sometime.

Oh, I suppose we could. Call me sometime.

That was better. A real step in the right direction.

He told Bud about his success.

That’s great, Jerry. When are you two going out, then?

Uh, we didn’t exactly set a day.

How did you ask her?

Jerry told him.

Don’t ask a girl out in a backhanded way that makes her feel uncomfortable. It’s a mark of your insecurity, too. And one other tip: Don’t ask a girl if she is busy on a certain night. That puts her on the spot.

Boy, this is more complicated than I thought, Jerry mused. So how should I ask her then?

Think of something to do that she might like. Don’t leave it entirely up to her. Suggest two or three activities, and see how she responds. Perhaps go out with a group of friends.

There’s a skating party on Friday. Maybe Caroline would want to do that.

Now you’ve got the hang of it.

He called for Caroline again.

Hi, Jerry.

Hi, Caroline. Say, the gang is going to a skating party on Friday. I was wondering if you’d want to go with me. We’d have to leave early, but we’d get back by eleven. Or else we could spend the evening watching the flesh rot off our bones. We’d get back later if we did that.

Gee, Jerry, the skating party sounds like loads of fun. I’d love to go.

Great. I’ll come for you around six.

Jerry was smart. He kept a date calendar, and checked it before asking Caroline to the party. Not a bad idea.

Good boy! Bud congratulated Jerry when told of his success with Caroline. I wish I could go to the skating party but I told my folks I’d spend the evening with them. They don’t get out much anymore.

I really appreciate your help, said Jerry. I just wish I could take you with me!

Jerry was joshing Bud, but it was true. His friend knew the proper habit patterns, and what it took to be popular.

The days leading up to his date with Caroline seemed to crawl and creep. Throughout the week Jerry quizzed Bud on how he should behave on his date, what to say, what a girl expects. Finally, the weekend rolled in, and Jerry grew stiff with anticipation.

Wardrobe. Jerry decided to wear what he had on. His dark suit. It made him look more mature. A few holes, hardly noticeable, some mild staining in the crotch area, but Caroline would understand. She was that kind of gift.

A few minutes before six Jerry showed up where Caroline lived. He didn’t need Bud to tell him the importance of promptness. He wanted to make a good impression on her folks, too.

Her parents were side by side when he arrived.

Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Ames. I’m Jerry Weathers, Caroline’s friend.

Even though they were Midwestern stoic, Jerry felt at ease with her mom and dad. There wasn’t enough left of them to make trouble.

Jerry, how nice to see you.

Caroline.

She looked wonderful. White dress. Beads. Blonde hair. Shoulders. A portrayal of peace on her face.

Hi, Caroline. You look so natural.

Thanks. How nice of you to notice. She addressed her parents. We should be back from the skating party by eleven.

There is no magic formula about when to come home from a date. The hour Jerry and Caroline would return was decided by where they were going on their date, whether tomorrow was a school day, how many dates she had had recently, and so forth.

I’ll take good care of her, Mr. and Mrs. Ames, said Jerry. Good night.

‘Night, Mom and Dad. Don’t wait up for us.

As they met up with the gang for the skating party, Jerry felt relaxed and sociable. It had helped knowing Caroline, even just a little, before they went on their first date. Jerry had been on blind dates before. Most of them were dumb and deaf, too, and then there was that headless girl. A midway-ride mishap, he had overheard during her interment. She was fun, but not really Jerry’s type.

The skating party. It seemed unreal, that’s how entranced he was with Caroline.

He felt light on his feet, Dead Astaire, his skate blades cutting into the dark sheet on the pond. They skated in a long loop, hand in hand. Caroline’s hand was colder than Hell. He tried warming it up with his own, but it didn’t seem to help much.

As they skated beneath the festering full moon, they seemed to get into a rhythm with each other, carried away with the dance. Jerry would release Caroline, just the tips of their fingers touching, then he would draw her back in, and they would spin around, laughing inside, and skate on down the ice. Caroline seemed to be enjoying herself a lot. She was a good kid.

Jerry had been concentrating on Caroline so much that he was surprised when he looked away and saw that the whole gang was watching them waltz across the pond.

We’re a big hit, he said, nodding to the onlookers.

When Caroline realized they had an audience, she self-consciously tried to stop, her blade catching a ridge on the ice. She lost her balance, and they fell in time, too.

The gang rushed over.

Are you guys all right?

I think so, said Jerry. Caroline, ate you hurt?

I’m fine. Just a little bump.

We should probably sit and watch the others skate for a while.

No, don’t stop, the gang said. You two were skating so beautifully.

Yes, how long have you been skating together.\?

Well, actually this is our first date, Jerry explained.

You’re kidding! Wow. Talk about a perfect match.

Caroline got a blushing expression on her face, although no blood filled her cheeks. It was pretty cold out there on the pond.

I think we’ll catch our breaths, Jerry said, helping Caroline back up onto her feet.

They skated carefully over to the edge of the pond, stepping through the snowbank to a concrete bench. A weather-worn angel watched over them, a dollop of snow on her nose.

Jerry tried to call up the advice Bud had passed on to him. What did he say to talk about? A popular movie, friends they have in common, anything that is of mutual interest.

Movies were out. He hadn’t seen one in ages. Friends? She was new in his neighborhood. Anything they were both interested in. That was the solution, but what did they share other than their place of residence? He didn’t know.

Say something ….

Uh, Caroline ….

Yes, Jerry?

That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing.

Why, thank you. You look very nice, too.

Do I really? I mean, it’s my only suit ….

It looks fine.

And my skin. The flaking … the bugs ….

She took both of his hands in hers. Jerry, I like you. For yourself. I don’t care about the bugs. Forget about the bugs. You’d have to be looking for them to see them. You have a good heart. I’m glad you asked me out. I’m having a fun time. I really am.

Gosh, Caroline, you’re really a neat person.

Silence, and then Jerry began to feel awkward. Think of something.

Then it struck him. How could I have missed it? The perfect topic for first date small talk. He knew Bud would be proud.

I like the smell of…dirt. Do you?

I didn’t at first. But I think I’m getting used to it.

Me, too. I mean, I didn’t like it at first either. But after a while, it kind of, you know, gets under your skin.

Yes, I suppose it does.

In the springtime, they bring flowers.

I love flowers.

Sometimes, you can smell the rain.

I always liked rain. Rain makes the whole world fresh and new.

Sometimes, there are leaks.

I suppose so.

They chatted for a while longer, swapping death stories—she and her folks expiring in a car wreck on an ice-coated highway, he succumbing to an inoperable brain tumor—then returned to the pond. The skating party broke up as the moon went down. Things were going so well with Caroline that he didn’t want to break the spell.

Caroline’s mom and dad were inert when they got back. It was only a quarter to eleven.

I had a swell time tonight, said Caroline.

I’m glad you enjoyed the skating, Jerry said. I’m glad you weren’t hurt when you fell on the ice.

I was more surprised than anything. All those people staring at us. It was like a dream.

They were having a good time together. But all good things, like life itself, must eventually come to an end.

Thank you for our date, Jerry said. I had fun, too. I hope we can see each other again.

So do I, Caroline said. Please call for me anytime.

In many communities, a good night kiss is expected as the customary way of ending a date. It can mean any number of things. A token of friendship, a simple way of saying thank you for the evening, a sign of affection. What it means depends on the two people and their definition of their relationship and themselves.

Jerry took the safe route. When Caroline rose, he squeezed her hand and searched for a smile.

The look on her face said she had a smile inside her.

And the date was over.

The next day, he told Bud about his evening with Caroline. Not in too much detail, because he didn’t want to be one of those boys who doesn’t respect a girl’s privacy and reputation, and most importantly her personal feelings.

Your advice really helped me a lot, he told Bud.

Glad to be of service, guy.

I’m not sure what to do next. Should I wait a few days before calling her again? I don’t feel like waiting. But I don’t want her to think I’m too pushy either.

There’s no perfect answer to your question. It depends on the two people and their definition of their relationship and themselves.

Gosh, I don’t know, Bud. It all sounds pretty complicated.

It’s the easiest thing in the world. You could call her today just to thank her for going with you to the skating party. That’s a common courtesy. A girl would appreciate the gesture. Remember, though, to have a sensible attitude. Your call shouldn’t go on for hours.

Should I ask her out again when I call?

After your courtesy call, I would wait a couple of days. By then it will be mid-week, and it will still give her several days notice. Remember, though, not to call her so late that she thinks she’s the last resort.

So Jerry did call Caroline later that day, and handled it just the way Bud suggested. Although he yearned to talk to Caroline for hours, he kept it short. She seemed to genuinely appreciate his thoughtfulness.

Her receptive attitude toward him made his next call easy.

Hi Caroline, it’s Jerry.

Hi, Jerry. How are you?

I’m doing very well, thank you. And yourself?

Just fine, thanks.

I was wondering, Caroline, if you would like to go on a hay ride this Saturday? The whole gang is going.

Oh, I’d love to, Jerry.

Great. I’ll come for you around six, if that’s okay.

That would be perfect. I’ll see you then, Jerry.

Thank you, Caroline. Goodbye.

Jerry passed the week in a daze. A wonderful new world was opening up for him. He thought about Caroline constantly, and eagerly anticipated their next engagement. A hay ride would be the ideal second date. You don’t ask just anyone to go on a hayride. Skating is something you do separately, but a hayride is something you do…together. There could be several opportunities for floating his arm around her shoulder. Sweet. Bud strongly approved, too. Everything was going to be a shining golden sky.

And then disaster turned his social life on its ear.

Actually, more toward the front of his head.

One moment his left eyeball was tucked snugly into its socket where it belonged; the next moment it had migrated down his cheek, like a mouse peeking out of its hole.

The rotting must have progressed further than he realized. Jerry knew it was inevitable, although he hadn’t cared to dwell on it, but why did it have to happen now? This week? So close to the hayride?

He tried to took on the bright side. The eye was still attached. That was worth something. Jerry tried to recall anatomy. Was it the optic nerve that secured the eyeball to the socket? And when that disintegrated ….

What a fix.

Jerry immediately sought out Bud. He had to help. He just had to. Both of his eyes had long since vacated the premises. He must know what to do.

After hearing his dilemma, Bud said, Well heck, I’d lend you mine, if I still had any.

Can’t we just pop it back in?

Afraid not. The normal rotting of tissue, plus the bugs, plus ….

Okay, okay. So what am I going to do? I have a date with Caroline on Saturday. We’re going on a hayride. I can’t let her see me like this.

Don’t call attention to it and she’ll hardly notice.

How could she not notice? My eye is hanging halfway down my face for gosh sake.

Try to keep her on the side of your good eye.

I don’t think that’s going to solve much.

Listen, Jerry. This is just in the nature of things. You can’t stop it. I can’t stop it. We just do the best we can with what we have left of ourselves. Death goes on.

But Caroline ….

You think she really likes you?

Yes. I do.

Then it won’t matter. Consider this: if one of her eyes fell out of her head, would you stop seeing her?

Well, no…

There, you see? She probably feels exactly the same way.

But she’s so pretty.

They’re always pretty, in the beginning.

But what should I say to her?

Be straightforward. Girls appreciate that. There’s no need to get graphic, of course. Avoid the temptation to seek sympathy. Have a positive, accepting attitude. You still have one good eye, don’t you?

Well, yes ….

If you let her know you’re disturbed by it, then you’ll just end up making her feel uncomfortable. She’ll be glad to follow your lead. Once you explain the situation, don’t bring it up again. Soon, you won’t even remember that your eye is out of its socket, dangling there.

I don’t know, Bud ….

It will work, Jerry. Trust me. ! haven’t steered you wrong so far, have I?

Bud was right. His advice had been invaluable. He had common sense in bushels.

Jerry didn’t want to spring any surprises on Caroline, so on Saturday morning he called for her.

Hi, Caroline. This is Jerry.

Well hi, Jerry. How are you?

I’m fine, Caroline. And yourself?

Fine, thank you. We’re still on for tonight, aren’t we?

Yes, of course. But, uh, there’s a little problem.

A problem?

I’m just having some trouble with my eye.

Nothing too serious, I hope.

Oh, no, no …. It’s just, well, not exactly in the socket anymore. It’s sort of…hanging down.

My goodness.

I mean, it’s still attached. No doubt about that.

Yes, of course.

Silence.

I’m sorry, Jerry said.

It’s okay. I understand, ! really do.

You do?

I sure do. You still have one good eye, don’t you?

Yes.

Well, there you go.

You mean you don’t mind, Caroline? You’ll still go on the hayride with me?

Yes, I’ll still go on the hayride with you, silly. You’re still the same person I went skating with, aren’t you?

Gosh, Caroline, you’re really a swell girl.

So I’ll see you this evening and ! don’t want to hear another word about it.

So long, Caroline. And thank you.

Jerry put the eye out of his mind.

A few minutes before six he came to Caroline. It’s wise to leave a little early for a date. That way, there’s no need to rush when you arrive at your date’s residence. Makes for a more relaxed and enjoyable experience for everyone.

Hi, Jerry.

Hi, Caroline. Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Ames.

He felt a warm greeting. Apparently he met with their approval.

Caroline looked beautiful. White dress, beads, peace, etc.

You look just like yourself, said Jerry.

Thank you, Jerry. That’s sweet of you to say.

Are you all ready then? Jerry asked.

All set. ‘Night mom and dad. We’ll be back by ten-thirty.

Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Ames. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Caroline.

When they arrived at the hayride, the gang was already piling into the rotting hay wagon. Jerry had a few kernels of uneasiness as they approached the wagon. Someone was hooking a chestnut mare into its bridle. Large chunks of flesh were missing from the horse’s flanks. Much of its head was eaten away, a part of the jawbone showing. Nobody was making a fuss about it. Jerry felt his self-confidence soar.

When they reached the business end of the wagon, Jerry stepped up first, and offered Caroline a hand. She took it and he pulled her up.

Hi, gang! Jerry said.

Hi, Jerry! the gang replied. Nice to see you, Caroline!

Hi, everybody? Caroline said.

Jerry found a spot for them in the hay. He positioned himself so that Caroline had to sit on the side of his good eye. No sense drawing attention to the flaw if it could be easily avoided.

In a short time the driver hopped up on the front of the wagon, and gently shook the frayed reins. The skeletal horse broke into a trot, its sleigh bells sounding like a death rattle, the wagon rocking forward with the motion.

The driver guided the horse along the narrow trail that wound around the frozen pond and through the snowy field. Pine trees, statuary, and ornate white buildings passed by.

What a wonderful idea this was, Caroline said. This is really fun.

I’m glad you came along.

Caroline patted Jerry on the forearm, then her fingers began to slide down toward his wrist, a clear sign that she was interested in holding hands.

Fortunately, Jerry first glanced down at her hand, then saw his own….

Immediately, he brought his arm across his chest and thrust his hand into the hay. Then, he reached across with his left hand and took hers.

I think I got a sliver, he explained.

Oh, let me see. I can take it out.

Well it’s in pretty deep. I’ll remove it later. It doesn’t hurt much at all, really.

This seemed to satisfy her.

Her fingers were cold, and his were gone.

Not all of them, perhaps two, possibly three. All he saw were black, rotted stumps. The digits must have fallen off after he hoisted her up onto the wagon. He hadn’t even felt their departure. Were they in the wagon? He scanned the bed in the vicinity of where he had been standing, but he couldn’t spot them amid the hay and snow. They must have fallen into the snow back on the trail. He’d never find them. And even if he did, what good would they do him now?

The rest of the hayride Jerry spent in nervous preoccupation with his missing appendages. The eye was bad enough. He didn’t want Caroline to think he was coming apart on her.

Why now? Why all of a sudden? It was almost like the more he tried to have a social life, the more his body rebelled. When the hay wagon returned to their point of departure, the horse collapsing into dust, Jerry helped Caroline down to the ground with his left hand, keeping his right tucked into the pocket of his best suit. He didn’t dare search the vicinity for his fingers now.

The gang hung out afterward, gossiping and cracking wise like dead teenagers do. Jerry struggled to keep in good spirits. When they got back to her place, it was later than he expected.

Say, look at the time, said Jerry. I told your folks I’d get you home by ten-thirty and here it is, almost eleven.

I’m sure they’d understand. We aren’t very late at all. There was nothing we could do about it, really.

I don’t want your parents to think I’m taking advantage of you.

They won’t think that. You can stay for a while. I mean it.

Thank you for the offer, Caroline. I would just feel better if I took a rain check. You understand, don’t you?

Oh, of course. You’re such a gentleman, Jerry. Next time, I won’t let you off the hook so easily.

Good night, Caroline.

Good night, Jerry. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, deftly avoiding his droopy eye. Her lips were still chilly from the hayride.

Jerry told Bud the rotten news when he returned to his plot.

Fingers falling off, eh? Join the club.

But what can I do about it? I can’t keep company with Caroline like this. She was okay with my eye, but I can’t expect her to pretend forever. How are we supposed to hold hands?

Do it spiritually. Girls like a boy who has a kind heart. It makes them feel special.

I want to feel Caroline, touch her.

Use your other hand.

I did, but how long will that last? I’m surprised it’s still attached.

There’s no turning back, Jerry. There’s an old saying around here: If you don’t rest in peace, you’ll come apart in pieces.

Look, my prospects aren’t too good anyway. I appreciate your willingness to help me, Bud. I’ll think of something. Maybe if we can keep going on group dates I can hide it from her.

And then what?

I don’t know. I don’t know. I’ll come up with something.

Jerry knew he had to apologize to Caroline, after his behavior on the hayride.

The next day he called for her, trying to inject sunshine into his voice. He remembered sunshine, wistfully.

Hi, Caroline, this is Jerry.

Hello, Jerry. How are you?

Very well, thanks.

That’s good. I had a really fun time on the hayride, Jerry. Thank you for taking me.

I enjoyed it, too. That’s why I was calling, Caroline. I wanted to apologize for my behavior at your place. I shouldn’t have run off like that. You said it was okay if I hung around, and I should have trusted you.

Oh, gosh Jerry, there’s no need to apologize. I understand. You were just trying to be sweet.

You’re not mad at me then?

Of course not.

Wow, that’s great to hear, Caroline. I wasn’t sure. I mean, I didn’t know. My eye ….

You’re fine, Jerry.

How about if ! make it up to you anyway? The gang is going sledding this afternoon. Do you want to go?

Well, to be honest, Jerry, I was hoping we could do something by ourselves once.

Oh no ….

Uh, what did you have in mind?

Why don’t we just go for a walk? What do you say?

Jerry knew what he had to say.

Sure, Caroline, that sounds swell. What time do you want me to come over?

How about three?

Three it is.

Terrific. I’ll see you then.

Goodbye, Caroline.

Jerry spent the rest of the day wringing his hand.

He couldn’t keep his problem in his pocket all afternoon. He had to be honest with Caroline. If only they had given me gloves, he thought with high melancholy.

Three o’clock came like it couldn’t wait to see him humiliated.

Jerry hated the fact that he felt trepidation about seeing Caroline. He wanted to feel excitement, anticipation, affection. Not this squeamish, nervous feeling.

On the way over to Caroline’s, Jerry felt an odd sensation and it had nothing to do with his interior life. Something in the region of his feet. Suddenly he had trouble walking. And he didn’t have to look to know that his toes had been eaten away by time or worms or some burrowing creature.

Jerry didn’t get upset, just philosophical. He had hit some kind of plateau, gone from a being with one foot in this world and the other foot in the next, to a decaying corpse with both feet on the verge of rotting off his legs.

When his deterioration had been easy to hide, it had been possible to keep up appearances, pass as something he was not.

But now, with a dangling eye, stumps instead of fingers, a lot of extra space down at the end of his polished black shoes, there was only one path to take.

Jerry presented himself to Caroline as he was, a young man on the downside of his death.

He hobbled the rest of the way to her place.

She was waiting for him, smelling the plastic flowers. An ice-crusted bouquet of pale purples, reds and yellows.

Hi, Caroline.

Oh hi, Jerry. I didn’t hear you coming. She looked at him with concern. Are you okay? You’re walking so strangely.

This was it.

Well, Caroline, you see, my feet are rotting away. And my hand. He displayed it for her. And tried to force a smile on his natural and peaceful face. I’m a real mess, aren’t I?

Maybe we should just stay here today. We could talk or something.

I want to walk, said Jerry. Please walk with me, Caroline.

Sure, Jerry. I’ll walk with you.

They slowly strolled among the monuments and trees, stark oaks coated with ice, evergreens hanging heavy with snow. The moon was circled by a pale orange halo.

Why is it happening now, so fast? Caroline gently asked him. Just the other day you were fine.

Bud says it’s because I won’t rest in peace.

Have I met Bud?

I’m not sure. Bud Pollard. 1959-1976. Loving son devoted student friend of the community.

Oh, yes, I remember seeing him.

He’s a good guy. He’s always given me helpful advice.

I’m so sorry, Jerry. What are you going to do?

They had reached a bench sheltered by a hedge planted in an arc. With every step it seemed harder for Jerry to walk properly. His gait was a rolling, teetering travesty.

Let’s sit down, Jerry said, and she helped him do that.

She was seated on his left, so he was able to hold her hand properly.

Caroline put her head on his shoulder. The decay hadn’t hit there yet.

We need to have a talk, Jerry said.

Okay.

They looked at each other, his dangling eye trying to get into the act, too.

You know, Caroline, you’re the first girl I’ve kept company with since I came here. And even if I would have known that dating you would make me decompose to beat the band, I wouldn’t have changed a thing, that’s how much I’ve treasured our time together.

I feel the same way. Listen, Jerry, pretty soon what’s happening to you will overtake me, too. My eyeballs will go pop, toes and fingers fall off, bits and pieces eaten away. And the bugs ….

We have this time together. We have the present, before all that happens.

Yes, isn’t it wonderful?

Yes, but I’m withering away so quickly, said Jerry. I don’t know how long I’ve got before I won’t be able to go for walks, or ice skating, or anything.

Your suit still looks sharp.

I don’t want to rush us, Caroline, but those are the facts. If we let the days go by thinking things will always be the way they are now, one day we’ll wake up and I’ll just be a pile of sludge you used to call a friend.

Oh, Jerry, please, don’t talk like that.

We have to face it, Caroline. We can’t deny this. He reached out for her with his rotting stump. She drew her hand away.

He gazed grimly at her. This is our future, Caroline. In a few days you’re going to be afraid to even look at me.

A few remnant tears squeezed themselves from her barren ducts. I won’t be afraid, Jerry. I promise.

Jerry hesitated for a moment. What I’m saying, Caroline, is that if you want us to have any sort of…physical relationship, we can’t wait.

Caroline’s peaceful, natural face was clouded with sadness.

I’m sorry it has to be like this, said Jerry. I know this isn’t considered good dating etiquette. It’s not proper to pressure a girl into intimate relations. If there was another way ….

No, you’re right, she said. We have to face this. I don’t want death to be denial too.

They sat in quiet spaces for a time, holding hands. A nuthatch lit on an evergreen branch, then flew off when it realized it wasn’t alone. Its weight disturbed the branch, sending a dusting of snow down upon the heads of the dead.

So, Caroline, Jerry said shyly, do you want to go back to my place?

I’d love to.

JERRY’S PLACE WAS in bad need of a dusting.

It’s not much, he said, but it’s home.

I like it. It’s cozy.

Are you comfortable? he asked her.

I’m just fine. It’s nice to be so close to you.

Don’t worry about hurting me.

I won’t. Can we do something about that eye? It’s sort of in the way.

Oh, sure. Hang on…got it. Is that better?

Much better. Now I can touch your face all over.

He began to touch her, too.

You don’t think I’m easy, Jerry, do you?

No, of course not.

Have there been other girls…like me?

No, only the living.

That makes me feel good.

As they began to probe and pet, and then proceed to the most private of realms, Jerry felt parts of himself break away, disintegrate. His fine suit slowly collapsed in upon itself, soaking up what remained of his bodily fluids.

Jerry suddenly felt disgusted, even horrified, and he didn’t know why.

I have very strong feelings for you, Caroline whispered to him.

I feel the same about you.

What’s wrong with me? he wondered. This should be the crowning moment of my death. Why do I feel so terrible, so guilt-wracked, so…wrong?

Caroline sensed it, too. What’s going on? Are you okay?

I’m okay, he said. I’m okay.

But he wasn’t. This felt so illicit, so…immoral.

At the very moment they consummated their deaths, as his body rotted away to utter uselessness, a shock of awareness hit him, as he understood what had disturbed him, why everything had felt so wrong.

And why now everything was feeling so right.

The final dating secret.

Jerry realized, as both of Caroline’s eyes popped out upon her climax, and their precious ooze commingled, that if a living person has intimate relations with a dead body, it’s called necrophilia.

If two dead bodies have intimate relations, it must be love.

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