The Worth Of A Man

All I had left were a few clothes and the the knowledge that at eighty years old I’m considered worthless. The abandoned house provided some shelter and seemed safe.

"Help me! Please, I know you can hear and see me so please, please, please help me!"

"uuumm...wha...umpff... What? Who's there?"

"I’m Danny Wade," and a boy in a cowboy suit slowly formed in front of me, "I died here in 1954. You're the first to hear me in a long time. I need you to call the police and tell them."

"What?"

"I was lost and found this place just before a storm. The basement seemed warmer, but I froze to death anyway. I need to be buried next to my mom. Can you tell them that? I have to wear what my body wears forever so can you tell them in jeans? Please? My mom loved me in jeans."

”I’ll do what I can, Danny. Can’t promise anything though.”
*****

The police hassled me for 2 days then went to look and found the desiccated remains of Danny hidden in a corner of the cellar. One cop accused me of doing it. Idiot!

The funeral home insisted on a suit and I couldn’t let that happen. I'd never touched anyone dead before and Danny standing there watching me dress his 65 year old shriveled up mummy of a body was weird. I cut the suit off, but getting the jeans and vest on a few pieces fell off and I positioned them as well as I could.

shutting the coffin I heard him say, "Good bye, thank you.” When I turned he was gone.

There was still family for Danny and the thanks I got for having found him made me feel like I still had worth.