I remember back when I was young, that I travelled to America in search better work, and with the good grace of god I landed a job as a housekeeper at St. Christopher's catholic hospital. Most of the staff was kind to me, I kept to myself mostly with my broken english, usually I'd hang out with my fellow compadres by the lunch truck that came twice a day. We all came from various parts south of the border, mainly, we were either Nortenos (northerners) , Surenos (southerners), or Afuerenos (outsiders). I was afuera with a humble group of ladies who worked in the laundry tear as well as a couple of CNA's who got their papers straightened out. Most were genuinely good people, except for Carlos, something about him made me cringe when he would come around. He had a thin moustache and slanted looking eyes and a face that looked like it had seen the bad end of a few fights. I could tell by his speech pattern that he came from Mexico City, which had put him at odds enough with the others, it's like the way most gringos can't stand New Yorkers. I hated working with Carlos cause he would often make lewd conversations about some of the Medical staff or patients... but I never said anything because I really needed the job to support my family back home, I've lost count of how many times I had to cover for him just to keep my job.
So when we had to work overnight, and one of our tasks was to clean the morgue, as if working with Carlos wasn't bad enough, mopping the floors and windows as well as trash disposal in the middle of night when it was deathly quiet and he would always creep me out with noises and pranking me.
One night though he wanted to switch jobs with me doing windows and vaccuming and him mopping the lab and morgue areas, now I'd been working really mellow for a couple of hours and I noticed how I hadn't heard from him in a while, I figured he was probably slacking on the job again cause sometimes he's sneak mezcal in in one of the cleaning bottles and I saw that only half the floor was mopped and that he opened one of the postmortem units and even had the sheet lowered down, it was the body of a 43 year old woman who had died from a diabetes related coma, and I saw that he was fondling her breasts. When I walked in he tried to play it off like, he wanted to see if it was some lady he knew from his apartment, I told him to get back to work or our bosses were gonna fire us and he laughed it all off... needless to say I noticed his zipper was down too.
So then, he would offer to trade his shift with other people on the crew to make sure he always worked the graveyard with me, cause they assigned me that shift because of my part time job closed at 10 and they needed a night janitor.. So Carlos convinced Gary to schedule him on my shift, and he managed to get Miguel fired by inviting him to drink on the job. That sick man even had the nerve to brag about how he would necrophile the corpses of dead men and women and even minor children.... I should of reported this, but it's hard to get steady work without speaking good english or having legal documents. One night he looked worried and not like his usual pestering self, he was complaining about an itch around his thighs and crotch, and that some weird pus was in his urine, and gradually it kept getting worse until one day, I was paired with a new coworker from San Salvador, so then one night, the coroner staff got slammed with work and I think they forgot to tell us they weren't gonna clock out that day, so I saw them chatting each other in english as I wiped their windows down... and the cadaver on the table was none other than Carlos... who had died from Necrotic Fasciitis stemming from his genitals... from all the months he'd been sexually assaulting those poor dead people.
May god have mercy... his sins of the flesh had punished him in kind.
What beautiful justice!
God forgive me !!!