Cory Is Dead

I pulled up in the neighbor's yard, left Gracie in the back seat and ran around the car... As I said, Cory was dead on the floor of the garage, laying there looking as though he was just passed out. The door was wide open, but hanging down a little bit because it was opened with the emergency release cord that disengaged the door from the opener. His trucked was pulled in, and he was laying by the tailpipe on the passenger side of his beat-up, dark green Ford Ranger. Cracked windows, dents, chipped paint... But it got him around.

He was only wearing a long pair of blue work out shorts with a white stripe down the side of the legs, and his skin was a grayish color... almost the same shade as the as the smooth concrete floor of the garage. He was covered in a green tarp, but it wasn't quite big enough to cover him over completely. He was on his back, head tot he right and his left arm, chest and face were exposed. There seemed to be a large dark spot on his side, which as it turned out was bruising or burning from the defibrillator. He just looked asleep. I yelled at the emergency services personnel to cover him, or take him off the floor, but they couldn't. It was still considered a crime scene until they could interview me, which was the next order of business.

The cop in the suit asked who I was, I told him, and he asked me if I could get into his car so he could ask me some questions. In all honestly, I have only a vague recollection, but I'm sure it was the standard line of questioning. I remember him asking if he could record the conversation for accuracy and I agreed. How do I know Cory--I am, was, his roommate. I had to correct myself. How long had I know him--about four months. Did he have any enemies, owe any money, have a drug problem--no, not that I knew of. He was an assistant manager at Sonic, worked nights to close, and went to the gym. Same thing everyday that he worked. The whole time, all I wanted was for them to cover Cory's body. I had to ask again, "is he really dead?" Yes. He was really dead... And I had to hold up my hand to block the view so I couldn't see his body laying there.

Little did I realize that his family was also there, sitting on the front lawn. His mother, step-father, aunt, best friend, and his identical twin brother... That was the erie part... I was done in the police cruiser and got out, met the family for the first time, and offered my condolences. His mother's face was riddles with tear lines, and she looked exasperated. Worn out. His aunt, who was actually a friend of his mother's since high school, was very kind. She was strong. Shaken, you could tell. Obviously. But she still had it together. Wayne, the step-father was down the side of the house on his cell phone, talking to someone, and the best friend was sitting on the retaining wall next to Cory's mom. Cody, Cory's twin, was standing. We introduced ourselves, shook hands, and I had to look away. I had to apologize to him because I couldn't look him in the face. I was just so surreal.

Then I remembered that Gracie was still in the back seat of the car, so I went and brought her over. Animals are always good therapy, and Gracie is the best. She knew people were sad, and she went to each of them, nudged at them, licked them, and just sat with them all, as if to offer her condolences as well.

The emergency services personnel were finally cleared to take Cory away. In a small cul de sac, there were almost as many police cars and emergency vehicles as there were driveways... An ambulance was in front of the house as well as a CSI truck. The doors were all open and they were all carrying all sorts of tool boxes and brief cases and apparatus, and then came the gurney and the body bag... Step-dad took mom down the side of the house so she wouldn't see. She never saw Cory's body. Twin, aunt, friend and I all stood together and watched as they lowered the gurney beside Cory, carefully removed the tarp that only half covered him, and laid the body bag right next to him, opening it up wide. Then two large men in uniforms positioned them selves at each end, head and foot, and took hold: one under his shoulders, one by the ankles. Two others helped, one to stabilize his head and the other helping to move his hips as they placed him on the body bag. They were very careful and respectful. And not a sound was made by anyone. Even Gracie, who at this point was tied to the small tree in the front yard, stop moving and laid down and just watched. They covered over the top flap of the bag and zipped it up. It's a truly heavy duty zipper with that loud sound that you hear on tv... I didn't know, but there are actually loops--handles--on the corners of the bag, and the two large men picked Cory up and placed him on the gurney. raised it up, and rolled him into the back of the ambulance. Closed the doors and started on their way. The police finished up what they had to do and were on their way as well.

It was just me and the family, with every neighbor looking on from their front lawns. Once again, the military training took over, and I shut off the emotion. In that neighborhood, where houses (including ours just the Friday night before) and cars were getting broken into, the neighbors were all understandably curious and I knew exactly why. I had felt it necessary to go over to one group on the neighbors' lawn and explain that Cory wasn't murdered, but that he had committed suicide. I couldn't believe that I had to explain that. But everyone was very consoling. People I'd never spoken to were now very supportive.

And now it was time to sort out the house. What was going to happen to the house since Cory owned it and was now dead. And as ugly as it was, where I was going to live and take care of Gracie? There was the funeral, the mortgage, the utilities, and of course, the emotional aftermath. So many questions--what happened, how, when, WHY???