Not a Candidate for Reanimation

The prompt this week at https://moreoddsthanends.home.blog/2020/03/18/week-12-of-odd-prompts/ was pretty simple, just 

“Not a Candidate for Reanimation.”

Which reminded me that I hadn’t had Gil, the chef for the monster hunters, visit HR and fill in forms yet. So...

Paperwork in HR. Or is it Inhuman Relations?

Most of the paperwork that HR wanted Gil to fill out was ordinary stuff. Direct deposit, tax forms, a nice little retirement savings setup, health insurance... but Gil wasn't really expecting the ones about next of kin and so forth. The HR lady had explained everything as they went through, making sure he understood before he signed anything. And then...

"What's this one? Reanimation release? Huh?"

The HR lady bit her lip.

“Look, Gil? Can I call you Gil, and my name’s Kathryn, okay?”

He nodded. 

"Well, Gil, the question is, should the company reanimate you in the event of your death on company time or not? So you can... well, finish up your employment duties?"

Gil squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and rubbed his forehead.

"What?"

She smiled.

"If you have religious reservations or something, I can always just mark your records as 'Not a Candidate for Reanimation.' We have several employees like that. It'll be on your work badge, too, so if you happen to die while working, well, people will know that you prefer not to be reanimated."

Gil gulped.

"Reanimated? You mean they could bring me back to life?"

She shook her head. 

"It's not really you. I mean, once you are dead, the soul has gone wherever, what is left isn't exactly you. But they can get you moving again, and the meat will do what it is told for a while. It does degenerate pretty quickly, and..."

Now Gil nodded.

"Oh. Okay. So more like a zombie or something?"

She chuckled. 

"Not quite, but almost. Maybe a meat robot? A golem? Take my word for it, you aren't there, but your body can still perform simple actions..."

He looked over the form again, and realized that it actually included some other options. Did he want to allow the company to use his organs after his death? What? He put his finger on that option, and looked at the lady. Kathryn, that’s right.

“What’s this?”

She looked at his finger, and nodded.

“Well, in case you don’t allow reanimation, or reanimation fails, which does happen sometimes, you need to decide whether to allow the company to use your organs or not. It’s kind of like donating your organs for medical use?”

She bit her lip when she said that, and he blinked.

“Except it’s not really medical use, right?” he said.

“Well, not usually. Although they do sometimes use them for rebuilding...” her voice trailed off, and she looked Gil straight in the eye, and shook her head. “No, actually they are likely to use the organs for various rituals and invocations. Also, some of the monsters do like a bite of human flesh, so the company can trade with it.”

Gil looked over the form. Then he shook his head. 

“If I’m dead, I don’t think what you do with the meat means much. So... put me down for reanimation, and for organ donation, too. Which boxes do I check for that, and then where do I sign?”

She pointed at the boxes, and he checked them off. Then he signed it.

“Now, your badge will say, on the back, candidate for reanimation and organ donor. Don’t be surprised, okay, Gil?” She smiled as she said it, and he smiled back. He wondered how anyone could be surprised, after filling in the form. But maybe people didn’t pay attention to what they were signing?

All too soon, she gathered all the papers into a neat little stack, and put part of them in a plastic sleeve for him to take. He had receipts and duplicates of all kinds. And a little cover sheet showing exactly what he had filled out and signed today.

She stood up when he did. Then she leaned forward and shook his hand. 

“I’m glad to have met you, Gil Sanderson. I look forward to seeing you in the cafeteria.”

He gulped and held her hand a little longer.

“I’m glad I met you, too, Kathryn. And... well, say hello when you’re in the cafeteria. And what’s your favorite dish? I’ll bet we can make it.”

She chuckled.

“Actually, I’m from Alabama, and I haven’t had a good breakfast in a while. Grits, biscuits with red eye gravy, eggs easy over, and ham? Think you can manage that?”

Now he laughed.

“Ma’am, I’ve been a short order cook in a diner, and that’s one of the regular orders. No problem, you just tell them you want me to make a Southern special, and I’ll whip it up for you.”

He let her hand go, took a tighter grip on the folder of papers, and turned and walked out of the HR office. He almost felt like whistling. He had a job again, and at least one customer that he knew he could please. Kathryn. He’d have to remember her name. Alabama Katie? That made him chuckle, and would probably help him remember her name, although he wouldn’t call her that. He’d have to make sure they had some grits, too.

To be continued...