Scott knew it was a fact that no one liked to talk about except at conferences after a few drinks. It’d never happened to Scott, but he’d heard stories of others who had experienced what they called “spontaneous movement.” A leg or a foot twitched. He couldn’t remember exactly what caused it. Some kind of biochemical reaction. But it usually occurred in the first ten to twelve hours after death. Maybe that’s all this was, but when Scott called Joe he opted for the extreme. After the morning he’d experienced, he couldn’t hide the stress.“That stiff you left in my cooler is still alive.”“What are you talking about?”“He moved.”Silence. Long enough that Scott second-guessed his approach. Would Joe think his partner prone to hysterics? That he couldn’t handle the extra business?“Look man,” Joe finally said in his usual calm and cool manner, “it’s just your imagination playing tricks on you.” Then he added like a buddy, a friend, “Dude, you did have a lot to drink last night.”There was something about Joe’s voice—his calling him “dude”—that made Scott relax … a little.By the time Joe arrived half an hour later, Scott had almost convinced himself that it probably was just his imagination.
