The Funeral
Carrie Waugh
Copyright 2011 Carrie Waugh
Smashwords Edition
“Eve, your mother
died yesterday.”
That one line made me pause mid stride. I
stared dumbly at the answering machine. I could see Aunt Nita on the
other end of the line smoking a cigarette and thumbing through a
magazine like she was having a friendly chat instead of telling a
daughter her mother was gone from this world.
“The funeral is tomorrow. The whole family will be there.”
My face settled into a frown after the click of the line disconnecting. What was left unsaid was the implication that I attend the funeral I had secretly looked forward to for a long time. A vicious thought slithered to the forefront of my mind. I hoped her death was painful. She deserved no less.
The eight hours it took
to get to the old farmhouse was nowhere near long enough to prepare
myself for the rest of the family. As soon as the tattered white
house came into view, so did the memories. Most of them I longed to
forget. After all, I didn’t exactly have the most normal
childhood.
I was tempted to drive past the dirt driveway and
go back to Dallas. There, I could go on pretending my life didn’t
include the dirty little secrets of my lineage. I tried to hate them
all with every fiber of my being, but to hate them was a waste of
emotion. I stopped hating my blood kin about the same time I accepted
our lot in life. I came to realize if not for them, I would truly be
alone.
For almost five years I successfully avoided my
family, barring the occasional phone call. Now, Mother’s untimely
death dragged me back into the fold. I felt just a tinge of guilt for
being so cold about her demise. She wasn’t always the harbinger of
contempt and disgust. She would understand my sentiments.
Letting
out a resigned sigh, I pulled into the driveway. As I inched my way
closer to the house my stomach tightened and convulsed nervously. I
wondered why I was so anxious about seeing them again. Just because
they always accepted me back without question or condemnation? Even
if they didn’t’ approve of the life I chose to live, it was my
choice to make. It didn’t obligate me to care for them any more
than I did.
From the look of it, I was the last to arrive. I
recognized a few of vehicles in the driveway. Seeing my Uncle
Trevor’s dilapidated red Ford truck calmed me a little. If I had to
choose one of my relatives to relate to it was good old Uncle Trevor.
He shared my twisted and often times cynical views of the world. He
was my anchor when I felt like I was being ripped apart.
I parked on the far side of small shed to the left of the house. As I ascended onto the front porch, I noticed one of the living room blinds fall back in place. My flighty cousin Dana met me at the front door.
“This is a pleasant
surprise.” She said, throwing her thick arms around me. She smelled
exactly the same, like vanilla and coffee beans. “I didn’t think
you would come.”
I forced her off me. “Mother just died. I
couldn’t miss her funeral.”
“Well, come on in. Everyone
else is here already.”
Trying to sound more excited than I
felt I said, “Great. I can’t wait to see everyone again.”
The
inside of the house looked exactly the same as it had the last time I
was there; down to the worn vinyl on the floor. “I see mom didn’t
out grow her fear of change.”
Dana shrugged in her whimsical
and carefree manner. “She was waiting until she saved up the money
to redo the whole house.”
“That’s Mom.” I mumbled.
“The queen of procrastination.”
In the living room, the
people I furtively called my own stared back at me.
Donny and
his mom, Aunt Nita, were as close as a mother and son could be
without crossing the creepy line. They even shared the same bland
taste in clothes, music, or anything else they thought would express
their personality.
Uncle Gary, well, he came out of the closet
some time ago. Before that revelation he managed to father his twin
girls, Jessie and Sandi. They pretty much stayed out of each other’s
way. I think they despised one another more than I did them.
Uncle
Trevor’s son, Parker, was sitting on the edge of the couch as if
waiting for a pistol to sound so he could race for the front door. I
knew exactly how he felt. I looked around, but no Uncle
Trevor.
“Hello, everyone.” I said through a forced
grin.
Not everyone seemed as happy to see me as Dana. They
acknowledged my presence with a short wave or a nod. I had expected a
little more enthusiasm. Maybe they have finally come to terms with my
disdain.
“You’re cutting it kind of close.” Donny
pointed to the antique grandfather clock by the fireplace. “The
funeral starts in half an hour.”
A woman I’d never seen
before followed Dana out of the kitchen. “I’d like you to meet
someone.” Dana told me. “This is Rose.”
“Nice to meet
you, Rose. I‘m Eve.” I said, shaking her hand. Before I could
stop myself I added. “It’s about time Dana brought home a real
friend we can all see.”
Rose covered her mouth, as if
fighting back a smile.
Dana laughed off the comment. “Eve,
stop it. You’re always so bitter.”
And you are always
so disgustingly chipper. I managed to keep that one corralled
behind clenched teeth.
“Anyway,” Dana went on. “Rose
just moved into town. She works with me at the movie place.”
“I
can’t imagine why anyone would want to move here.” I said with a
shake of my head.
Rose shrugged. “I like it. After jumping
from one foster home to another, I finally get to settle some place
that’s of my own choosing.” She took my hands in hers. “I’m
so sorry for your loss.”
I pretended to accept
the condolence with the heartfelt sentiment with which it was given
and all but yanked my hands free. Uncle Trevor walked out of my mom’s
room, saving me from anymore chumming up to Rose. Not like I had
anything against her. She was actually kind of nice. I guess I wanted
to keep from liking her anymore that I had to. Sentiments always made
things more complicated.
“Hey, Tater Tot.” Uncle Trevor
boomed as he picked me up in a big hug.
I cringed. “I
thought I heard the last of that name.”
“Not likely.”
When he set me down, I noticed the ring box in his hand.
“Is
that it?”
He nodded. When he tried to hand it to me, I
hesitated.
“She wanted you to have it.”
Even in
death, Mother was trying to make me feel included. I took the box and
put it in my jacket pocket.
Turning, Uncle Trevor announced it
was time to go.
As I suspected, we were the only ones at the
funeral home. Mother never made an effort to befriend anyone she
deemed less than her equal. Which covered everyone but us. That was
one of the many insufferable quirks I so disliked about the tight
knit lineage we all shared. My cousins weren’t so rigid about
bringing outsiders into the fold, so long as they were kept at a
distance.
Personally, I got tired of sneaking around town just
to have a few friends and, dare I say, a boyfriend.
When we
pulled up behind the funeral home, a short balding man in his late
fifties met us at the back door. Apparently, he was in charge. Aunt
Nita told him she would deliver the eulogy, after which we would
drive to the cemetery to finalize the ceremony. To anyone else the
whole thing might look cold and unfeeling. We acted as though we were
buying a house, not mourning a loved one.
I half-listened to
the meaningless words coming from Aunt Nita. My mind wandered to my
job, and a long to do list waiting for me when I got home. Though I
would have loved to leave for Dallas as soon as the funeral was over,
I knew Uncle Trevor would want me to stay, at least until the last of
this insufferable ceremony was over.
"It's tradition."
He would say.
At the cemetery we all passed by the casket,
saying our goodbyes. As my mother’s body was lowered into the
ground I felt tears threaten to break through my icy fortress. Not
for her passing, but for the life she brought me into. I longed to
tell her once again how I hated her for it.
On the drive to
the farmhouse, Uncle Trevor and I reminisced over old times, when I
was a little girl, before life became nothing more than a duty. It
was nice to remember being so blissfully naive.
“Have you heard from Gregory?” He asked.
I squirmed in my seat.
“It’s okay. I won’t say a word to anyone.”
“Not in a while.”
“We all miss him.”
“Yeah, me too.” I felt bad for lying to Uncle Trevor, but I didn’t trust him not to run his mouth to the others. Gregg made me promise never to tell them where he was, and for my silence I got to stay in his life.
Uncle Trevor laughed. “I still remember when you two were born. Your mother always said you were two halves of one soul. Her soul.”
I pulled up to the
house and started to get out when Uncle Trevor reached over and
patted my hand. “You know your mother only wanted what was best for
you and your brother. Don’t blame her for loving you so much.”
As
much as I hated to admit to myself, and I would never admit it to
anyone else, his words held some truth to them. Mother might have
thought she was giving us all a great gift, but it was her selfish
fears that moved her to act.
By the time I walked into the
house, the smell of fried chicken and fresh bread filled the air.
Uncle Gary had, no doubt, slipped away from the funeral early to warm
up the plentiful feast prepared earlier that day. Donny and Sandi
were outside on the patio talking. Aunt Nita and Jessie were setting
the table. Dana was in the living room with Rose, showing her some
old pictures.
I didn’t have much of an appetite, so while
everyone else ate I sat at the table sipping some water.
“Aren't
you hungry?” Uncle Trevor asked, passing the mashed potatoes over
my plate to Dana.
“Not particularly.”
He nodded in
understanding. “You always had a soft stomach.”
Dinner
went on for a good hour before people started leaving the table. I
was one of the last to go into the living room. When I walked in,
Aunt Nita held up her hand to get everyone’s attention.
“First,
I would like to thank you all for coming. Especially you, Eve. I know
how much it meant for your mother to have the entire family together
on this sad, yet joyful day.” Turning to the others, she went on.
“We will not mourn the loss of Louise Harrison. Instead, we will
rejoice in the new life she is destined to live. A life we have all
enjoyed for so long.”
Everyone, but Rose and I nodded in
agreement. I could tell she didn't quite understand Aunt Nita's last
comment.
“I suppose we should get on with it.” Aunt Nita
looked my way, again. “Would you like to do the honors?"
I
shook my head.
“Very well.”
With one swift
movement, Aunt Nita raised a pudgy fist and jabbed it into Rose's
cheek, knocking her to the side. Dana was quick to strike her blow,
sending the wide-eyed woman sprawling to the floor. When the others
joined in, I stepped back.
I tried not to look as the sound of
breaking bones and savage grunts filled the room. I wanted to go
outside until it was over. Not because of the hideous scene being
played out before me; I have accepted what we are and what we do to
maintain our way of life. But to keep from seeing the repugnant look
of elation on their faces. A look I, myself, have donned many times.
A feeling I fought to suppress.
When the room went silent, I
turned to look at the bloody mess on the floor. That stain would
never come out. I guess Mother would have to remodel, now.
It
was hard to believe that by morning that battered body would be
healed. No sign of this inhuman slaughter would be left but the
memory of poor Rose. Her life snuffed out like an annoying gnat so
Mother could take the now empty vessel as her own.
Uncle
Trevor wiped spittle from the side of his mouth, leaving a crimson
smear in its place. “The ring.” He said, holding out a weathered
hand to me.
I took the ruby ring from its box, admiring its
beauty. Funny how something so small could hold what was left of
Mothers essence. The others considered it to be our soul preserved
inside. I knew better. Our souls were forfeit a long time ago. What
resided in that ring after our bodies died was merely a shadow of who
we once were.
I watched as Uncle Trevor forced the ring onto a
mangled, broken finger. There was a faint glow and I, along with
everyone else in the room, felt the transference. Uncle Gary helped
Donny carry the body into Mother’s room. There was nothing left for
us to do but go about our own business.
I didn’t say word as
I walked back to one of the bedrooms in the back of the house. There
was a full-length mirror on the front of the closet door. I stood
there looking at the woman I had brought home five years ago. I still
remember her name. Hillary. She was a nice woman. Very cordial and
good tempered. That’s why I chose her. I envied her happiness. This
body was well worth preserving. It was one of the finest I had ever
taken in the three hundred years since my first death.
I
touched the smooth surface of my face and smiled. I was kidding
myself to think I could ever abandon my ancestry, because no matter
how long or how hard I run this was my family.
My life.
My
hell.
And I know no other more deserving people with whom to
share it.