I'd just survived a hectic Saturday night in a country pub and had backed up for a breakfast beer.
"No cops to check for drunken drivers, last night?" I enquired.
"Nah, old Sergeant Bill comes around every few months, doing a headcount. Makes the pub his headquarters for a few days and goes to all the out-lying properties, registering births, deaths and marriages."
"What?" I asked. "Marriages?"
"Yup! He's a J.P. or a marriage celebrant or maybe both. Versatile man, our old Bill. All the blushing brides-to-be hold it in until Bill comes." Beryl called out to Ernie. "Tell him how it works in the bush and the Latimer story. That's a goody. Tell it verbatim."
"Verbatim? You're showing off, old girl. But I'll verbatim it for our guest. It was a dark and stormy night---"
"Bloody rubbish!"
"I was just lending a bit of local colour---"
"Last chance! The dink-di story."
"Alright, alright! Old Bill came back one evening and over an off-duty refreshment, we bullied him into telling us the latest events in our far-flung community." Ernie said.
"He told us, rather reluctantly, 'Well, I approached the Latimer homestead at 1305 hours on a clear day, high cloud ceiling, light southerly breeze and made myself known by knocking on the front door. I then heard, whom I assumed to be Mrs Latimer call Mr Latimer, 'Vern,' in a loud voice, 'answer the door. I'm indisposed.'
'Yer probably just reading your Mills and Boone in there. Yer bum's gonna graft to that seat one day.'
'Answer the bloody door!'
"I then heard mumbling and then trudging as I assumed Mr Latimer approached the front door. On opening the aforementioned front door, Mr Latimer said words to the effect of, 'Oh, it's you, Sergeant Bill, c'mon in and have a cuppa.' I proceeded to take advantage of his kind offer. We sat in the kitchen and Mrs Latimer entered, after I assumed she had redisposed herself, and made us all a cup of tea. I took my notebook and pen from my pocket and asked if any important events had occurred since my last visit. 'Not really.' They appeared to give the matter great thought."
"'Well grandpa died,' Mrs Latimer recalled."
"I asked for an exact time and date of his death. After a lot of head scratching and deep thought they agreed it was a couple of months back, in the late afternoon, sitting on the verandah drinking his home-made hooch. 'Oops, no he wasn't. Tea. Yeah, definitely tea!' They both nodded in agreement.
"'What about a precise date?'
"'Pick one.'
"'About the first of February?' I said.
"'Yeah, that was it.' They nodded again.
"'Late afternoon would have to be 1630hrs, OK?'
"'Yeah,' another nod in concurrence."
"I then enquired as to the cause of his demise.
"'Shock from reading yer Mills and Booneses.' Mr Latimer stated.
"'You illiterate oaf! He died of a heart attack. We think.' Mrs Latimer insisted.
"'Why do you think that?' I enquired.
"'Well he was about eighty, and we didn't shoot the silly old coot.'
"'Hey, that was my father,' said Mrs Latimer.
"I explained that a post-mortem may be required, and asked the location of the body.
"'We buried him down the back paddock a few months ago. You can dig him up and take him with you, if you like. He's probably a bit fruity by now. I'll go and fire up the back-hoe.'
"I firmly declined. I knew they had a freezer chest and asked, could they have put him in there temporarily?
"'Nah. He wouldn't fit. S'pose I could have cut him up and fitted the pieces in.'
"'You're not cutting up Grandpa, you heartless beast. God's gonna get you one day.'
"'No! No! You're not allowed to cut up anybody, alive or dead. Particularly alive,' I interjected forcefully.
"I then asked to see any official paperwork, for example birth certificate, marriage licence, hospital records.
"The Latimers looked at each other and shook their heads. 'We never found anything like that. A few old betting slips and a train ticket was about as official as he had.'
"Mr Latimer suggested he may have come from another planet, 'Kinda spooky.' I did not take this remark seriously. I suspect it was offered in jest. Mrs Latimer said she was going to have a serious discussion with Mr Latimer after I departed. I told them not to bury anyone else without first notifying me. As I started to leave, the Latimers were having a forceful discussion along the lines of who was highly likely to pre-decease whom and who was going to do what to whom's remains. 'I'm going to get me chainsaw NOW!'
"'Get out of the way, you insensitive oaf, I'm getting the axe!'
"I departed briskly at 1355 hours calling out. 'No cutting No chopping. Never!'
"When Sergeant Bill calmed down, he told us he might tear up his report and not take any calls from the Latimers or ever go near them again. He even said he may go into a religious retreat and never talk to anyone again," Beryl said. "He went quiet, thinking then asked if he could rent our old freezer chest."
Read more of Vic's Short Stories, Short Stories