The town of Skullson Crossings had an usual tradition. It all started with the taxidermy shop set out by the founders of the town who tried to drum up business in The Middle of Nowhere, Arizona. They figured that there must be some particularly zealous ranchers who fell in love with their cattle a time or two and wanted Old Bessie immortalized. The brothers had no idea how right they would be, and frankly it creeped them out. Not only did the ranchers whose business they relied on want their cows stuffed for all eternity, they also wanted pigs, chickens, rattlesnakes, and horses. The Skullson Brothers could accept this, in fact they were able to put food on their table because of it, but there was no way in hell they would ever taxidermy someone’s Died-Too-Soon Infant. They never thought they would ever have to tell someone “No, I’m sorry, we can’t stuff your dead child.” It should go without saying that they would not do that. But...this town was interesting. Maybe there was something in the water.
The people of modern day Skullson Crossings were just as eccentric as these ranchers of yore. It was now a tradition among townsfolk to take their family pet to Skullson Bros.’ Ye Olde Taxidermy Shoppe and have them embalmed. It was their version of a normal family’s Pet Funeral.
Although this was an out of the ordinary tradition, out of towners simply looked at it as one looks on the traditions of a people of a foreign country. It’s not what you’re used to, but you respect their culture. However, there was one thing that made people new to town or just popping in for a visit run screaming out of the city limits.
You see, just as the townspeople had grown accustomed to seeing their family dog in their living room long after they passed on, they also felt this way about their children, just as the family the Skullson Brothers turned away all those years before. The brothers who founded this town did not get just that one request, they got several. Of course they turned away every single one because that went against some kind of ethical code that they just could not put their finger on but they knew was there. The more grieving families they turned away, the more business they found themselves losing. They realized their business could not make it on embalming cows and chickens alone. So, they decided, the next family that came in asking to embalm and forever preserve their dead child, they would do it. They didn’t have to wait long; within the hour a young couple came in, dressed all in black, of course, as they were still in morning, asking if the Skullson Brothers would be so kind as to consider doing them this one service. They knew it seemed weird, but it would really mean a lot to them. To the young family’s delight, the Skullson brothers said yes.
And thus a tradition began.
Of course, the families of Skullson Crossing unfortunate enough to lose a young children did not simply display their child out in the open for company to see. Oh, no. They built elaborate set-ups in their basements, made to look like a child’s bedroom, and depending on the occasion, set the child around the room to make it look like they were a living, breathing, functioning part of their household. Older siblings could have tea parties or pretend to babysit. Grandparents could pretend they were teaching them valuable life lessons. Uncles could pretend to give their infant nephew or niece a can of beer, much to the horror of the parents. It made it seem as though their child never stopped existing. They could have them around forever. And who could argue with that?
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This probably isn't perfect; I haven't edited it or anything, I just wanted to put it out there.
We were talking about Gothic fiction in my lit class today and A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner, so that may have contributed to this...piece of work. Tell me what you think!
