The Death Mask Read online

  By the time that drizzly, Saturday morning in 1994 arrived with Amber calling out to her long-lost lover, Michael brewing up coffee in the kitchen and Linsey entering her daughter's room for the morning; a computer provided much of Paulette's ability to speak. If she had something to say that pseudo-telepathy or charades couldn't communicate, Paulette could poke with a pencil at a keyboard in front of her face to form sentences to express her thoughts, ideas and feelings.

  “Good morning!” Mother gave her daughter a warm greeting.

  Paulette smiled in acknowledgement to her mother. The keyboard was unnecessary for simple gestures. Aside from that, Paulette was still in bed.

  “Are you ready to get up for the day?”

  Paulette nodded, yes.

  “Okay, let's get you all cleaned up and dressed; then we'll go down to have breakfast.” Linsey would never allow her daughter to be neglected. Paulette was not to be an invalid who was left unwashed and stinky for a couple days, wearing frumpy clothes with greasy hair and a stale, crusty mouth. Paulette's hair was always beautiful! She was groomed daily from head-to-toe and she wore all the latest fashions, even had regular manicures and pedicures. Paulette was a beautiful girl and very, much loved by Mother and Father.

  Much time was spent between Linsey and her daughter. Being a best friend to Paulette was best. Linsey read her daughter books, magazines of teen pop culture, and was sure to provide the latest music or movies that other teenage girls enjoyed. And although she had a large bedroom with every luxury a child could wish for, and a beautiful walkout turret balcony yielding a gorgeous view of the wilderness below, Paulette was never left alone for lengthy hours. Father was sure to install a wheelchair lift to bring her up and down the stairs.

  Once groomed, dressed and ready for the day, Paulette was brought downstairs into the kitchen where Father greeted her, “Good morning, Honey.” Then he kissed her softly on the cheek.

  On that drizzly, Saturday morning in 1994; Linsey made her family a hearty breakfast of eggs, pancakes and bacon. Tomorrow would be church, followed by a breakfast in town. Saturday was the family's “laid back” day. But before eating, the family was sure hold hands around the table in a moment of prayer, giving thanks for another day together and the many blessings the family shared.

  Chapter Three

  On a cold, frosty, predawn morning in October, with only the soft glow of pastel ambers glowing in the eastern horizon, Michael stirred from his sleep and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. There was still an hour or so left to sleep. He rolled over to face his beautiful Linsey who lay on her back and deep asleep. It was too tempting not to lay his forearm over her shoulder and lay a kiss on her cheek while breathing in the smell of Linsey's sweet hair.

  But then he had to whisper, “You're cold; you need some more covers?” Soon it became evident as to just how cold Linsey really was. She radiated no body heat under the covers and would not stir as Michael slowly rubbed his palm on her arms, her abdomen or thigh. “Linsey?” The slow caresses that were intended to warm and stir his sleeping beauty increased to a frantic diagnostic check. Now he spoke out in a regular tone of voice, “Linsey?”

  Michael switched on his nightstand light and stood up. A flush of panic surged through his body as he quickly walked around to where Linsey lay. He violently pushed at Linsey's side of the mattress, “Linsey?”

  Her chest did not rise or fall; nor was there the sound of deep, sleep-full breathing or twitching of her eyes to suggest being spellbound by a REM.

  Still, Michael had to call out while attempting to shake his wife awake. “Linsey!”

  She was stiff and very cold. At some point in the night her heart must have stopped beating. In recent weeks the summer's remission appeared to have ended as Linsey suddenly became gravely ill.

  Although men certainly get choked up or glass at the eyes in an emotional moment, men rarely cry. And every man can recall the very, last time in boyhood that he attempted to weep or sob. But that moment often ends up in laughter as a young man asks himself, “What the hell am I doing?”

  Perhaps the fact that men rarely cry is the reason why the sight of a grown man, who has fallen to pieces and weeps uncontrollably, can be disturbing. Michael kneeled before his beloved Linsey with his upper body draped over her chest in uncontrollable sobs. Then he raised his head as if gazing at the ceiling. But in those moments, one sees beyond the confines of walls and plaster and can gaze into the endless void where Heaven, somewhere, might be found.

  He continued to sob until words were finally possible. “An angel must have taken you sometime in the night…” Warm, heavy tears ran down his cheeks. Then he looked back down at his lifeless Linsey, “But you look to be only sleeping…”

  It was still so early in the morning. Paulette would surely be sleeping for another hour or two. It would give Michael the small window of time that was needed to keep a memory and reminder of those sweet moments when he watched his Linsey peacefully sleep.

  Her long, beautiful hair was pulled back and a bandana from the lingerie drawer was slipped over the top of her head to protect it. Next, a thin layer of petroleum jelly was rubbed into Linsey's beautiful face and underneath her jaw line. The petroleum jelly would serve as protection to the skin, but needed to be a thin layer so that any natural lines or cracks that were barely noticeable of Linsey's mature face would be remembered.

  In the garage, hidden in a dark corner of a cabinet, were a box of dry Plaster of Paris and two rolls of Plaster of Paris gauze strips. Michael quietly descended the stairs and carefully opened the exterior door to the attached garage to get those items that he thought would never be used. Back into the house, he softly entered the kitchen and filled two bowls with warm water, and then added the proper amount of dry Plaster of Paris. It was necessary to be extra quiet when ascending the stairs, as Paulette certainly could not be awoken!

  Standing at Linsey's nightstand, strips of Plaster of Paris gauze were cut in equal lengths, dipped in the plaster mixture, and then added to the perimeter of Linsey's face. Once fully perimeter with the edges blended in, additional gauze strips were added so that her entire face was soon covered. The setting time would only take fifteen to twenty minutes. But while this was done, Michael checked to ensure that his daughter was sleeping.

  In a rare occurrence, Paulette was awake! But she couldn't be alarmed of her mother's passing just yet. Father hid his grief and simply greeted his daughter, “Good morning, Honey. Are you up already?”

  Paulette nodded.

  “Your Mother is not doing well this morning. We're going to have to…” He closed his eyes in what could have been interpreted as a prolonged blink and then continued, “…let her rest and then see how she's doing.”

  Paulette stared at her father, which indicated a need for something.

  “What is it, Honey? Do you need to use the bathroom? Of course; I'll get your wheelchair.”

  Paulette quickly shook her head, “no” while making grunts. Then she looked at the keyboard.

  It was best for Michael to respect his daughter's wish and wheel the computer and keyboard over to her bed. He lifted and supported the paralyzed girl so that she could sit up and type a sentence into the keyboard by poking it with a pencil.

  “I want to see Mom.”

  “Honey, your Mother is not awake. She's not doing well this morning.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. Then she poked a simple word into the keyboard, “Please!” Paulette knew the worse had happened. Maybe she heard her Father sobbing in the other room behind closed doors. Perhaps she was aware of the stirring around downstairs and some activity taking place in the bedroom. Whatever it was, Paulette knew something was wrong.

  But Michael couldn't let his daughter see Linsey just yet. The Plaster of Paris had yet to dry. It would be another fifteen minutes before the mask set, and even longer to clean the petroleum jelly and restore her appearance to undisturbed. “Okay, Honey. Give me a few minutes and I'll bring you to
your mother.”

  Every minute that passed while waiting for the plaster to dry was another moment of dishonesty to his daughter. The mask could not come off fast enough when finally set. But the petroleum jelly was quite a challenge to remove. Who sleeps with that mess applied to the face?

  By the time Michael returned to Paulette's room, she wore a face of severe disappointment. She wasn't stupid. She knew that a few minutes shouldn't have evolved into nearly an hour. What was Father's problem?

  “Okay, sorry for the holdup. Let's take you in to see your mother.” Paulette was lifted out of bed and gently set in the wheelchair. Then Michael knelt before his daughter while holding her hands. “Paulette, there's something I need to tell you.”

  Paulette's eyes glassed, knowing what would be heard next.

  “Your mother has passed away…”

  Paulette let out a cry. Forming intelligible words is unnecessary when expressing such deep sadness. All creatures cry; it's instinctive.

  “I'm so sorry, Honey. I needed some time; please understand.”

  The wheelchair was rolled out of the bedroom, down the hall and into Mother and Father's bedroom. There on the bed lay the lifeless body of not only the girl's mother, but a best friend who kept Paulette living and feeling like a real person in all those years existing as a vegetable. Who would Paulette have now? Father certainly loved Paulette, but who would replace the person who loved her in only the way a mother could?

  Chapter Four

  Small, rural towns like Sillmac and Mapleview often carry over traditions from the days when immigrant settlers lived closely like family. In those days, farming, hunting, gathering and building homes were often community projects. Together, the community of olden times learned to survive in the harshest of conditions. In those days, people needed one another. Independence and a need for solitude were never an option.

  And when a member of the community passed away, the entire town gathered for the funeral and then a dinner. Everyone brought a dish to pass around. You certainly wouldn't expect the grieving family to cook for the entire town! In those moments, love and a shared meal were needed.

  In modern times, Mapleview and surrounding areas maintain the old customs of funerals. The entire town gathers for a funeral and then meets for dinner at either the church hall, or a reception hall. Of course no one expects the grieving family to provide dinner for the entire town! People bring a sizable platter of their family specialties, a potluck dinner.

  There is one thing that the grieving family provides during the dinner. It's an unusual tradition in which the grieving family orders bacon from the popular Saulmon's Meats of Mapleview. Saulmon's is a family owned business that has been passed down for many generations. Originally a shack in the 1800s that cured meats and butchered kill from a hunt, the business grew to what it is today and now operates in a modern storefront. Saulmon's Meats continues to provide butchering services; but the current owner in 1994, Curt Saulmon, Sr.—his son to be next in line to owning and operating the business—added to the establishment so that it sold various sausages, ham, bacon and jerky.

  Although grieving the recent loss of his beautiful Linsey and faced with a funeral to plan, Michael did own the chain of hardware stores that was rapidly appearing in every town of America. He definitely had more money than he knew what to do with! I mean the guy purchased a small mountain in Sillmac and had a castle-like mansion built on top. He certainly didn't need the town to bring family dishes to share at Linsey's funeral. But local customs and traditions were always followed. Aside from that, nobody wanted to eat generic chicken, beef and spaghetti from a reception hall. Everyone was proud of their family recipes, and everyone wished to share and sample. They wanted big pots of chili, sweet sauerkraut cooked in bacon grease, homemade dumplings, Belgian trippe, numerous casseroles and a vast array of homemade deserts. Funerals were serious business in the Mapleview area! It was best for Michael to step aside and let the town feed the guests and family. But he was sure to reserve the finest reception hall, provide plenty of Saulmon's bacon and treat family and guests to an open bar.

  It isn't necessary to provide the details of Linsey's sad, sad funeral. It was just as any other funeral: the worse day ever for a spouse, any children, parents and siblings. Hysterical tears and close embraces marked the final departure.

  But it's more interesting to discuss the way in which Michael spent his days prior to the wake and funeral. With Linsey's body being prepared at the Grossenbury funeral home in Mapleview, Michael began and completed phase two and three of the dedicated death mask to the love of his life.

  Michael was never an artist, much less a sculptor. Aside from following the simple instructions of making a death mask, he struggled with improvising the proper technique in developing Linsey's face into a sculpted head. Surely it should have been as simple as to fill the curved inside of the mask with clay until the form of a head was finally achieved. But consider how delicate the initial application of clay needed to be. Too much applied pressure while packing the clay against the inside of the face would have caused a break. This would have been nearly as devastating as losing Linsey, herself.

  With her face padded by numerous soft cloths and gently set against the mattress of their bed; small pieces of clay, no larger than the diameter of Michael's thumbprint, were carefully applied to the inside one piece at a time. His moistened finger gently smoothed the clay against the surface before applying another small piece. It was a grueling, tedious and highly time-consuming task. As the hours passed while Michael feared breaking the death mask, he could feel Linsey's spirit overlooking, watching in outrage that her husband had gone against her wishes. Perhaps she would have been able to influence the mask to break.

  To avoid this, Michael spoke out to his deceased wife. “Linsey, I am so sorry for doing this. Please understand. I know you understand how important this is to me. You'll see just how beautiful you'll look when the work is finally complete.”

  Paulette needed her father in this moment. She was left alone for a few hours at a time while Father painstakingly filled Linsey's face. Linsey, herself, urged Michael through subliminal means to put the silly project down and focus on what was more important. What was left of their family strongly needed closeness and sharing of feelings. Instead, Michael continued to bring that statue-head to life.

  By the time the face's interior was one-third full of clay; Michael felt safe creating flat blankets of clay and laying them along the inside. This reduced the time for filling the remains of Linsey's face and allowed for rests to spend more time with Paulette.

  A day before Linsey's wake, the entire face had been filled and hardened with clay. The final step was to merely roll a large ball of clay that could be sliced in such a way that it would be attached to her face and serve as the remainder of the head. Linsey would have hair, so not much detail was required for the top and back of her head.

  There wasn't time to paint the face! Although Michael wished to have flesh-colored paint along with a hint of Linsey's blush, and perhaps some color to her lips, the materials used for this would have needed to be tested and may have taken many hours to prove effective. The wrong color or tone of paint would have been a disaster. Again, it was important for that head to look exactly the way Linsey looked when alive.

  There was still enough time to apply her long, strawberry-red hair. But where would he find Linsey's hair? Michael announced to his daughter that he would go to Saulmon's Meats and pick up the bacon for the funeral. The girl had been left alone before, but only for about a half hour at a time. Little did Paulette know that in addition to picking up the bacon, Father would also venture about an hour away to an adult entertainment store that sold toys and costumes. A wig of long, strawberry-red hair would be the finishing touches to Linsey's head that was needed before the funeral.

  * * *

  Mapleview and the surrounding area make up a population of perhaps nearly 200,000 people. Surely the population of Maplevi
ew and Sillmac wouldn't go to every funeral. How could you fit that many people into a church or a reception hall? Stating that the entire town attends a funeral is merely a statement made to imply that old customs are still followed. The truth is, just about everyone stays home or at work (depending on the day of the week). The lives of strangers aren't interrupted for funerals that happen throughout the week. But the custom continues to be followed by senior citizens, officials of churches, political figures, police and fire personnel or influential members of the community. And this is no freeloader society! Everyone brings a special dish to share. Think of the after-funeral dinner as a friendly open house where people can socialize, network or develop their public image for the next election.

  It might be someone like Jack Swieley whose residential brokerage company was rapidly taking off in Mapleview. Oh… I suppose Jack Swieley might have been considered a freeloader! He brought nothing to share with family and guests of Linsey's funeral. But attending a funeral in town guaranteed a good, hearty meal along with the chance to meet grieving family who might be planning on selling their home. Mr. Swieley would never offer his card or ask for business on a day like this! He would merely identify himself as broker Jack Swieley from Jack Swieley Realty. Chances are family would remember the nice man who extended his condolences, and telephone him some months later when thinking of selling.

  Another guest who attended Linsey's funeral and dinner was Loraine Trivelli, who was young enough in 1994 to hopefully be noticed by the handsome and very, wealthy Michael Dickly. Loraine was an influential member of the community, as she was owner of the historic Trivelli house in Mapleview. Accompanying Loraine on that day was her sister and young niece, Mary, who was a young lady of only fourteen-years-old. Mary would one day purchase the historic house from her aunt so that she and her future husband could settle down. Of course Loraine and her sister weren't a couple of freeloaders! They were sure to have brought two pans of homemade chocolate chip coconut bars to share with everyone.