Hospital Morgue - Part (3/3)

Frank Tucker kept shielding his body with a wrap of his arms. His body turned away when the storage unit was pulled open. He could not stop facing the wall, waiting until the Constable was done. When he heard silence, his jaw clenched and he began to turn his head.

The husband would make shuffling steps, to inch himself closer to the open gurney. He would try and tip toe to peer over the ledge, to spy into the black body bag. He saw a severed arm, causing him to clench his eyes and braced himself.

After a 5 minute pause, he inched closer with his body turned away and his one eye peeking from an angle. Seeing the torso, he couldn’t handle it and shut his eyes to turn his back around.

“It’s her,” Frank Tucker breathed, doubling over and gripping his mouth a bit, “It’s my wife.”

Sergeant Leo would glance between him and the body, “I apologize for formality. Could you confirm her full name for the record.”

“It’s Sarah. Sarah Anne Tucker.” Frank Tucker’s face started to cringe up, nose flaring, lips quivering. He gripped at his heart as he stumbled, tears falling out from his eyes. “I-it’s definitely Sarah. She, she has a birthmark, r-right here.” The husband would reach a hand over his shoulder, tapping a finger across his left shoulder blade.

“An-anything else, sir?” McLamb would ask, keeping his head away from the open bag, “this is your wife we’re talking about. Any other defining features you wish to confirm?”

“She,” The husband sniffed back tears, wiping them from his eyes and nose and rubbing it on his sleeve, “she has a surgical scar, on her leg. It’s her. Terrible...just terrible. Oh my god, I can’t breathe.”

“Do you need a minute to--”

Before McLamb could finish his sentence, Frank Tucker was already shuffling towards the exit. Head bowed, gripping his forehead in rejection, tears drenching his palm. With a coughing heave, he pushed his shoulder against the door, but struggled to push it open.

Sergeant Leo ran over to use his own weight to heave the heavy doors. He watched as the husband stumbled out into the hall and ended up sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. Knees to his chest, making haggard wheezes, he fumbled for his pocket.

Mr. Tucker pulled out an inhaler and his shaking hands slipped from pulling the cap. Once he opened it, he shoved it into his mouth and pressed the button with a white knuckle thumb. A sharp inhale. Several breaths, in and out, and color started to return to his face.

Leo could only watch in silence as the husband curled up to hug and rub his arms to fight a cold only he knew.