Plantin' Season

"How you think this one died?" said Pete, looking at their latest client.

"I don't rightly know," said Slo John, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a dirty handkerchief.

"Lemme check the list." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

"Dang!"

"What?" said Pete, drawing closer while licking his lips.

"This is the guy what jumped off the sink in his jail cell six times on his head til' he kilt hisself," said Slo John, refolding the piece of paper and putting it back in his pocket.

"Huh?" said Pete, scratching his head. "That's the dumbest way to die I ever did hear."

"It ain't for us to judge, Pete," said Slo John, sticking his shovel in the dirt. "All our clients is equal here."

"But jus' the same, it makes ya think," said Pete, still scratching his head. "How'd he get back up on that sink to throw hisself off for that last jump? He was prob'ly already half-dead by then."

"Mighty ambitious feller, I'd say," said Slo John, looking at Pete. "Some folks, when they get a notion to do somethin', cain't nuthin' stop em'."

"I guess so," said Pete, nodding. "Glad we ain't, am-am-whatever that was you said."

After planting their client, they took a short break.

"How many more we got today?" said Pete, laying back on the cool grass.

"Lemme check the list," said Slo John, pulling out the piece of crumpled paper. "Three more."

"Dang!" said Pete, sitting up. "They droppin' like flies, ain't they, John?"

"Well, it'll slow down as soon as plantin' season's over," said Slo John, looking at the sky. "Folks jus' got too much time on they hands."

"But ain't it always plantin' season?" said Pete, scratching his head.

"Well, theys seasons and theys seasons," said Slo John, checking his list before putting it away.

"Looks like our next client was tryin' to outdo the last one."

"Oh boy!" said Pete, leaning forward. "Another sue-e-side?"

"Nope," said Slo John, with a sweep of his hand. "This one is that farmer's wife what fell in the hay baler. Woman was all over the place 'fore the am-bu-lance got there."

"Dang!" said Pete, shaking his head. "What a way to go!" The two sat quietly contemplating the fate of their newest client. "Think they found all of her?" said Pete, breaking the silence.

"I don't rightly know," said Slo John, looking pensively at the ground. "But anyone who buys that hay is in for a surprise if part of her pops out and says, 'howdy-do.'"

“Shore ‘nuf,” said Peter. “Shore ‘nuf.”

The sun was setting when they began their last planting of the day. "Well, what's the story 'bout this one?" said Pete, after drinking the last of his water.

"Well," said Slo John, smiling. "This one is the strangest kind of all."

"Goody!" said Pete, breathing excitedly. "Another woman found her husband cheating, kilt him an’ cooked him up for supper?"

"Nope," said Slo John, turning his head from side-to-side.

"Did that big dummy at the trailer park finally find a way to kill hisself with his BB gun?" said Pete.

"Nope," said Slo John, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well what is it?" said Pete, so frustrated he threw his shovel to the ground.

"Pete, seems like we got one of the most rarefied kinds of clients in here tonight," said Slo John, placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "This one died in his sleep."

*Author's Note - All the death's in this story actually happened in and around my town. I'd heard about them over the years from newspaper stories and EMT friends. Those stories were the inspiration for this one.