Cologne: Pathology Basement II - Sept 1975
Ok, where were we ...
[Ed: Before you carry on with the girl in the Basement (see 'Part One' if you missed it), what about this 'utterly stoned Lab Technician' you mentioned last time?]
Oh that! Well you can read about that in 'The Working Hangover'
So let get on. Location please.
[Ed: Pathology basement, direction was left to the bits and pieces dept.]
Right.
[Ed: No left.]
?
I checked the preparation area first. The gloom was still somewhat eerie and so I had to carefully manoeuvre myself around the work benches. Breaking the silence was the irregular sound of taps dripping into fixing tanks.
I heard and saw nobody.
I moved on to the storage rooms and exhibit cases. There were rows and rows of glass jars with diverse content. Some were not recognisable in the dark yellow colour of the formalin due to age. There were other jars, from more recent times, where unfortunately the contents were recognisable.
I moved on at a quicker pace. Time was passing and I still had not found her.
As these rooms had no doors, I moved forward, first listening for any tale tells signs before peering around the corner.
No sign of her.
I backtracked to the stairs and realised that she could have slipped by me the alternative she was in among the silent residents. I had to make sure.
Opposite the stairs the padlocked exit for access to the incinerator and the parking area for the house hearse. Every now and then the furnace was fired up. I won’t go into why. For the staff in ‘the know’, one had either to remember to close windows early enough, or go on a self-inflicted errand to some other part of the clinic and make sure you took your time getting back.
On the right side of the basement came the cold storage rooms humming to themselves and their occupants, then the dissecting area. This was one large room with large double doors with glass windows.
I couldn't imagine that she would be in the cold storage area, just too cold and you would catch your death in there.
[Ed: Was that a pun?]
A what?
[Ed: Ok forget it.]
That left the dissecting area.
Before entering the corridor, I checked the work plan for that morning hanging on the wall next to the list of occupants. It showed that one or two dissecting tables could still be in use. This depended on the number of students delaying the pathological demonstrations due to tummy problems.
I peered down the corridor passed the cold storage area letting my eyes get again accustomed to the gloom.
I hesitated once again.
[Ed: Why?]
I could have sworn I saw light shining out though the windows of the dissection room.
There were two possibilities when I took a look through the windows. I would see one or two similar shapes on the tables covered by white sheets and the lights still on because someone had forgot to turn them off or
one or two similar shapes on the tables covered by white sheets and her doing ...
[Ed: Yes, doing what!]
Not sure I wanted to know ...
[Ed: I imagine you where letting your imagination run away with you, ok it was a mortuary but it’s wasn't in Innsmouth.]
True, still I think I was at this point now conscious of where I was and what I was doing down there.
I cautiously approached the doors, stopped and listened making sure not to enter the light coming though the windows. I heard nothing unusual, only the constant hum of the cooling system and the air conditioning with its irritating intermittent coughing.
Ok, now how to proceed ...
I decided on a slow moving long stare through the windows. If she happened to see me, I would change direction and go in and ask something instead of finishing the bypass. If she didn't see me I could take note of what she was doing, add a return run then retreat and report.
So I moved, turned my head and looked through the windows, it was weird, everything seemed to slow down. Either adrenaline was kicking in or I was trying very hard to take in everything I saw and remember it all for later.
There where two tables occupied, ‘she’ was sitting on a high stool between them. She could not see me as she was turned slightly away from the doors and looking down to the uncovered occupant on the second table. As I had thought, the pathologists where not finished and one could see that the exposed body was ‘open’ for viewing. And that was what she was doing, staring at the body. I couldn’t see her face (frankly I was glad I couldn’t) but the lack of head motion and my observation of her in the Lab told me all I wanted to know.
I finally reached the other side of the doors, stopped and started to breathe again. I reflected on what I had seen. What gave me a shudder was that she had a half eaten sandwich in her hand which rested on her lap and the open lunchbox was standing on the end of the dissection table!
Now what?
I had to go back the way I came as this was the end of the corridor. I turned around and repeated the flyby. I chanced one last glimpse through the windows. The same scene, I don’t think anything had changed; although I thought it was possible that the sandwich had had another bite taken out of it. This time on passing the doors I just kept going until I was up and out into blinding daylight.
I found a seat bench and dropped into it. I checked my watch, only 20 minutes!
I had only been down there 20 minutes, it had seemed like hours!
Ok, I had a tale of some kind, not an ‘It’ à la S. King, but still something to tell and that was now a problem.
[Ed: Problem? Oh I see! Half the girls probably wouldn’t believe you and the other half wouldn’t be able to keep it to themselves even if they did.]
Yes, that’s about it. What ever happened I would probably had been asked some rather awkward questions and the consequences for our creepy one I could only speculate. I saw no tinkering with the body, just a passive rather intense morbid interest in dead bodies at an unusual time of the day.
[Ed: Interesting, you of course took the easy way out.]
What do you think, of course I did!
I reported back what the girls wanted to hear. It went something like this ...
I followed her out to the clinic garden and observed a tête-à-tête with a young man, the usual sitting close together, starry eyed and holding of hands. The girls ummed and ahed all in the right places and to end my story I added the close call detection and a hurried retreat.
I was praised for my effort and that was that.
Footnote: Our creepy colleague “disappeared” a few weeks later without as much as a by your leave. I checked the mortuary one more time just in case. No trace, apart from an abandoned lunchbox under one of the dissecting tables. We heard a few months later she had enrolled to study medicine.
[Ed: Maybe she took an extra course in hypnosis; she had the predisposition for it.]
Wouldn’t have put it past her with those eyes of hers, will never know.
[Ed: So what did you learn from the experience?]
A new definition for a working lunch!
[Ed: That with the lunch box, you’re kidding aren’t you?]
What do you think...
[Ed: Before you carry on with the girl in the Basement (see 'Part One' if you missed it), what about this 'utterly stoned Lab Technician' you mentioned last time?]
Oh that! Well you can read about that in 'The Working Hangover'
So let get on. Location please.
[Ed: Pathology basement, direction was left to the bits and pieces dept.]
Right.
[Ed: No left.]
?
I checked the preparation area first. The gloom was still somewhat eerie and so I had to carefully manoeuvre myself around the work benches. Breaking the silence was the irregular sound of taps dripping into fixing tanks.
I heard and saw nobody.I moved on to the storage rooms and exhibit cases. There were rows and rows of glass jars with diverse content. Some were not recognisable in the dark yellow colour of the formalin due to age. There were other jars, from more recent times, where unfortunately the contents were recognisable.
I moved on at a quicker pace. Time was passing and I still had not found her.
As these rooms had no doors, I moved forward, first listening for any tale tells signs before peering around the corner.
No sign of her.
I backtracked to the stairs and realised that she could have slipped by me the alternative she was in among the silent residents. I had to make sure.
Opposite the stairs the padlocked exit for access to the incinerator and the parking area for the house hearse. Every now and then the furnace was fired up. I won’t go into why. For the staff in ‘the know’, one had either to remember to close windows early enough, or go on a self-inflicted errand to some other part of the clinic and make sure you took your time getting back.
On the right side of the basement came the cold storage rooms humming to themselves and their occupants, then the dissecting area. This was one large room with large double doors with glass windows.
I couldn't imagine that she would be in the cold storage area, just too cold and you would catch your death in there.
[Ed: Was that a pun?]
A what?
[Ed: Ok forget it.]
That left the dissecting area.
Before entering the corridor, I checked the work plan for that morning hanging on the wall next to the list of occupants. It showed that one or two dissecting tables could still be in use. This depended on the number of students delaying the pathological demonstrations due to tummy problems.
I peered down the corridor passed the cold storage area letting my eyes get again accustomed to the gloom.
I hesitated once again.
[Ed: Why?]
I could have sworn I saw light shining out though the windows of the dissection room.
There were two possibilities when I took a look through the windows. I would see one or two similar shapes on the tables covered by white sheets and the lights still on because someone had forgot to turn them off or one or two similar shapes on the tables covered by white sheets and her doing ...
[Ed: Yes, doing what!]
Not sure I wanted to know ...
[Ed: I imagine you where letting your imagination run away with you, ok it was a mortuary but it’s wasn't in Innsmouth.]
True, still I think I was at this point now conscious of where I was and what I was doing down there.
I cautiously approached the doors, stopped and listened making sure not to enter the light coming though the windows. I heard nothing unusual, only the constant hum of the cooling system and the air conditioning with its irritating intermittent coughing.
Ok, now how to proceed ...
I decided on a slow moving long stare through the windows. If she happened to see me, I would change direction and go in and ask something instead of finishing the bypass. If she didn't see me I could take note of what she was doing, add a return run then retreat and report.
So I moved, turned my head and looked through the windows, it was weird, everything seemed to slow down. Either adrenaline was kicking in or I was trying very hard to take in everything I saw and remember it all for later.
There where two tables occupied, ‘she’ was sitting on a high stool between them. She could not see me as she was turned slightly away from the doors and looking down to the uncovered occupant on the second table. As I had thought, the pathologists where not finished and one could see that the exposed body was ‘open’ for viewing. And that was what she was doing, staring at the body. I couldn’t see her face (frankly I was glad I couldn’t) but the lack of head motion and my observation of her in the Lab told me all I wanted to know.
I finally reached the other side of the doors, stopped and started to breathe again. I reflected on what I had seen. What gave me a shudder was that she had a half eaten sandwich in her hand which rested on her lap and the open lunchbox was standing on the end of the dissection table!
Now what?
I had to go back the way I came as this was the end of the corridor. I turned around and repeated the flyby. I chanced one last glimpse through the windows. The same scene, I don’t think anything had changed; although I thought it was possible that the sandwich had had another bite taken out of it. This time on passing the doors I just kept going until I was up and out into blinding daylight.
I found a seat bench and dropped into it. I checked my watch, only 20 minutes!
I had only been down there 20 minutes, it had seemed like hours!
Ok, I had a tale of some kind, not an ‘It’ à la S. King, but still something to tell and that was now a problem.
[Ed: Problem? Oh I see! Half the girls probably wouldn’t believe you and the other half wouldn’t be able to keep it to themselves even if they did.]
Yes, that’s about it. What ever happened I would probably had been asked some rather awkward questions and the consequences for our creepy one I could only speculate. I saw no tinkering with the body, just a passive rather intense morbid interest in dead bodies at an unusual time of the day.
[Ed: Interesting, you of course took the easy way out.]
What do you think, of course I did!
I reported back what the girls wanted to hear. It went something like this ...
I followed her out to the clinic garden and observed a tête-à-tête with a young man, the usual sitting close together, starry eyed and holding of hands. The girls ummed and ahed all in the right places and to end my story I added the close call detection and a hurried retreat.
I was praised for my effort and that was that.
Footnote: Our creepy colleague “disappeared” a few weeks later without as much as a by your leave. I checked the mortuary one more time just in case. No trace, apart from an abandoned lunchbox under one of the dissecting tables. We heard a few months later she had enrolled to study medicine.
[Ed: Maybe she took an extra course in hypnosis; she had the predisposition for it.]
Wouldn’t have put it past her with those eyes of hers, will never know.
[Ed: So what did you learn from the experience?]
A new definition for a working lunch!
[Ed: That with the lunch box, you’re kidding aren’t you?]
What do you think...
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