Procession
“Now, you will take it easy and make sure you get to the church with plenty of time?” asked Mr. Coddington.
“Yes sir,” replied Marvin. “I will do my utmost best and provide the care and sincerity that this funeral requires. You have my word.” Mr. Coddington nodded and signaled for the coffin to be loaded onto the hearse. Marvin bowed his head then he climbed up into the driver’s seat and took the reins. “On, Sprinkles, on Grahame,” he said. At this command, Sprinkles and Grahame, Marvin’s faithful mules, walked on, pulling the hearse.
Marvin and Sprinkles traveled slowly along the country lane. Marvin noticed how very quiet and peaceful it was. He felt the warmth of the sun shining on his face and this made him smile. Although he was going to a funeral, Marvin couldn’t help but feel happy. He was suddenly brought back to reality
when a rabbit ran across the road in front of Sprinkles. If there is one thing that Sprinkles is afraid of, it’s rabbits. With a loud bray, he reared up on his hind legs. “Whoa, Sprinkles!” Marvin called out, pulling on the reins. But it was no use. Sprinkles began to bolt, pulling the hearse along with him. The hearse bumped and jolted along the road and Marvin began to panic. Finally, with a great yank on the reins, Sprinkles and Grahame came to a halt.
Marvin looked behind him and his heart almost stopped. The coffin had fallen off the hearse and was sliding down the slope next to the road. “Oh no, no, no!” Marvin cried out. He jumped off the hearse and frantically ran after the coffin. The coffin picked up speed and crashed into a boulder. As it did, the corpse flew out and through the air, landing headfirst into a swamp at the bottom of the slope. Marvin ran as fast as he could, being careful not to trip over. The corpse was sinking into the swamp, only its legs were protruding from the muddy water. Marvin reached the swamp and took a flying leap towards the corpse. But he was too late. The feet disappeared into the mud and Marvin landed with a great splash. He desperately felt around in the mud, but it was no use. The corpse was gone.
“This is bad,” Marvin moaned. He clambered out of the swamp and walked slowly up the slope towards the hearse.
Marvin arrived at the church with and was greeted by Mr. Coddington. Seeing Marvin’s muddy clothes, and the damaged coffin, he was taken aback. “What on earth happened here?” he asked.
“Just a slight mishap, nothing I couldn’t handle,” answered Marvin, stepping off the hearse. “Now, ah, you weren’t planning on having an open casket, were you?”
“Of course,” replied Mr. Coddington.
“I would advise against that,” said Marvin. With a great heave, Marvin unceremoniously dragged the coffin off the hearse, and it landed with a thud on the ground. “Just trust me on this one,” he said. Still confused, Mr. Coddington lifted the lid off the coffin.
“What the hell is this?” he exclaimed. Inside the coffin was a long stick driven into a cabbage.
“My condolences once again,” said Marvin, from the driver’s seat. Mr. Coddington was speechless. Indifferent to Mr. Coddington’s growing anger, Marvin tipped his hat and gently cracked the reins.
“On Sprinkles, on Grahame,” he commanded, and he drove away, whistling to himself.
