“Ahhhh! Ewwww!” Gerri hears her own voice cry out but can’t connect to it or understand what’s happening. She senses a very uncomfortable, sharp burning in her nose and she shakes her head from side to side.
She hears her dad’s voice and sees him leaning over her, “That'll be better now. You'll be okay, Gerri. Those smelling salts are pretty tough.”
She glances around the room and sees she’s in the big leather chair in the lounge with her feet propped on an ottoman. She squirms and struggles to sit upright.
“Just stay there for a few seconds. We'll get everyone out of the chapel and on their way to line up for the procession. Then we can go out and get into your car, Stephen. If you’d like I’d suggest Ralph drive you and Gerri in your car to the cemetery? Then you can go on home from there and Ralph can ride back here with me.”
“Sure, Jim. that'll be fine. You a little better now, Gerri?”
“Yeah. I'm okay.” She pushes down on the chair arms and stands up. “What happened?”
“Well, you had a little fainting spell so take your time and don’t rush it. If you need to sit for a couple more minutes it’s fine. But at least you’re getting some color back in your face now. As soon as you feel up to it, we’ll go outside to the car. Fresh air will make you feel a bit better as well.”
“No, I’m okay. I’m a little sweaty but otherwise I think I’m okay. We can go anytime.”
They walk from the lounge and Gerri sees the chapel is completely empty of people, flowers and the coffins. Like nothing ever happened here. Even the lamps are turned out. The main source of light is the lobby and they gravitate toward it without being prompted. As they walk outside, the air feels cold against her perspiring skin. She realizes her clothes are damp and the cold air makes her shiver. Wow! What an ordeal. Ralph opens the back door of the car, Gerri slides in, and Ralph politely closes the door. Stephen scoots into the back seat from the other side and Ralph unceremoniously takes the wheel in the driver's seat.
The hearse begins to move and they follow, driving out of the parking lot ever so slow, the big black hearse in front and DeMore’s car next. Gerri looks out the back window at all the cars following with their headlights glowing and little “FUNERAL” placards facing out through their windshields.
The procession snakes its way through town, not having to wait at intersections, stop signs or stop lights. All the usual traffic hindrances are ignored by the slow, but apparently important, procession. There is a motorcycle policeman who dashes ahead of the procession, stopping traffic so the hearse and the cars following never have to stop. Gerri looks out the window, a tear runs down her cheek. How sad people have to wait until they die to be able to get respect and an escort like this.
“Do they do this for weddings, Dad?”
“What?”
“I just asked if you get the traffic to stop when you get married. Or when you have a baby or when you graduate? Or is it just done when somebody dies?”
“No, Gerri. I don't think so. I don’t know.”
“You don’t think so, what? Is it done other times or only when somebody dies?”
“Huh? Oh, Gerri, I don’t know. What difference does it make? I just can’t concentrate right now.”
Well, that’s clear enough Stephen is in his own world and won’t talk. Gerri takes a deep breath, continues looking out the window and falls silent.
The hearse and procession turn through the big wrought iron arched gates of the cemetery, and Gerri’s heart begins to pound in anticipation of the next events. She’s sure this short ride of rest and isolation from grief is about over and there will be more horrible things in store. She wonders how much more of this she can take.
“Do I have to do anything here, Dad?”
“No, Gerri. I believe we just sit and the minister will say a few words and that’s about it as far as I can remember how these things go. Then we'll go back to our house and many of these folks will stop by for a sandwich and a drink. Just for a little while.”
Gerri stares at the reddish purple tent-looking structure among the tombstones and green grass, certain that's where they’re heading but unsure of the formalities of getting to the tent. Another person she assumes is from the funeral home stands by the small line of folding chairs next to the tent across from where dirt is piled next to an elaborate hole in the ground. There’s a big brass apparatus over the hole and fake grass hanging over the edges so it looks less like actual dirt around the hole. All the flowers from the funeral home are piled high around the edges. A cadre of men from Stephen’s school go to the rear of the hearse while everyone else stands in a group and watches. The men make two lines behind the hearse and her mother’s coffin comes smoothly out into their waiting grips. They appear to struggle a little from the weight but carry her coffin toward the gravesite. Behind are two men carrying the tiny bronze coffin of her little brother. Stephen and Gerri, grandma, aunts and uncles and all the others in attendance walk behind the coffins toward the grave site.
Stephen, Gerri, Grandma, aunts and uncles sit in a row of folding chairs next to the grave. Paulette stands behind Gerri and Gerri puts her hand up on her shoulder so Paulette can hold it. Before the ceremony gets underway, Gerri is looking at the cars parked around the cemetery. Some as close as a few yards and others parked behind the hearse one behind the other snaking way off in the distance around the cemetery’s big circular drive. There are still people arriving and hurrying for the ceremony. Paulette squeezes Gerri’s hand a couple of times and when Gerri looks back Paulette is motioning with her head in the direction of some of the cars and Gerri spots Len Ferguson. Len has some sort of harness over his white shirt and as he walks toward the group he is slipping on a suit coat. From watching movies Gerri is sure Len is wearing a shoulder harness for a gun. She can’t figure out why he’d do that. Then it hits her. Maybe Connie is right and Len is itching to spot Jake so he can arrest him or maybe even shoot him. She is filled with fear and anger that Jake would even think about showing up in the first place and also that Len thinks her mom’s funeral is a place to do police business.
Gerri’s overloaded and chaotic mind get her past the initial details of the ceremony and she begins to look around at the attendees. Just about the time Gerri’s focus lands on Len and she notices he’s looking in the opposite direction of the burial party, Paulette squeezes Gerri’s shoulders in an urgent manner. Paulette’s moving her head and her eyes not in Len’s direction but in front of the hearse where there are only three cars parked separated fifty yards or so from the rest.
Standing in a straight line by the three cars are eight guys as if standing at attention with one arm reaching across their chest, clenched fist over their heart. It’s plain enough who they are because of the black leather jackets. Gerri recognizes Jake as the first in the line. She can’t figure out why they would be here except as an attempted show of respect for her. At least Gerri sees it that way and can’t help but feel a tenderness in her heart for the exhibition.
As Gerri glances back toward Len, he’s no longer standing but walking in a quick pace away from the crowd around the grave and toward Jake’s gang. Len has pulled back one flap of his suit jacket. Gerri isn’t sure if she should do something or sit still. She feels a wave of fear and panic. Paulette’s got both hands on Gerri’s shoulders pushing firmly down so Gerri is sure Paulette’s not about to let her get involved.
As soon as Len is away from the burial party headed for Jake, Jake and another guy get in the lead car and very quickly they are driving the short distance around the cemetery and obviously toward the front gate. The other gang members are no longer standing in a line but are milling around as if welcoming a confrontation with Len. But as soon as Len sees Jake getting away he reverses his course and runs for his own car. Unfortunately for Len, his car is nearly twice as far away as he’s just walked. Len is jogging toward his car but Jake’s long gone and now the other gang members get into the other two cars and slowly head around toward the entrance.
Len obviously thwarted in his display of heroism slows to a walk, kicks at the grass and continues slowly toward his car. Paulette lightly pats Gerri on the shoulders as if to say the danger has passed.
Gerri turns her attention back to the ceremony and realizes it’s almost over and she doesn't even know what’s happened. One-by-one people file past the coffin, some picking an occasional flower or petal off the baskets of flowers and placing it on the tops of the coffins, then making their way around past Stephen and Gerri. There are words muttered but it sounds like sad, sorry gibberish and only an occasional word is even recognizable. After all, what else can these same people say after already saying sorry at the house and again at the funeral home? More of the same. This is like a horror scene that never ends. What if these people just get back in line and keep coming through? It means none of this will ever end and Gerri will endure faceless people forever saying stuff in this foreign language of grief. Gerri is uncomfortable sitting trying to appear appreciative or happy that they make the effort to stop by and put their cold clammy hand in hers or worse against her face as if they care.
Soon it’s just Stephen, Paulette, Gerri, a few stragglers, and Jim and Ralph. Jim and Ralph come up to Stephen and Gerri. They, smile politely and professionally, shake hands with their white gloves still on, and Jim bids them farewell from Wilson Funeral Home, “On behalf of Herman Wilson and the Wilson Funeral Home let me again express our deepest sympathy for your losses and sincerely thank you for allowing us to handle the details of this sad occasion for you.”
Jim and Ralph walk back to the hearse as they strip off their gloves and talk quietly about something only audible to the two of them. It's over. Everybody turns, walks away and this is it.
Gerri notices two men standing some distance away by a tree smoking and watching. They’re in work clothes and each has a shovel. They must be truly the final end to all this. How cold and crude to make all this big formal hoopla with everybody dressed up in their finest and then just walk away abandoning her mother and brother to two rough-looking laborers in overalls.
“Gerri, I guess we'd better get a move on. Some neighbors are already at our house by now greeting folks and I suppose we ought to get going as well.” Stephen glances toward the burial area, takes a long, deep breath and when he lets it out, he’s crying.
Gerri looks down at the ground and begins walking toward the car. She looks back and sees the two men putting out their cigarettes and starting toward the grave. She can't bear this and she gives in to hysteria. She points at the men and screams out loud like never before.
“Get away from them! You stay away from my mother and little brother! Don’t you dare touch them! Get away!”
Her cries are so loud Stephen takes hold of her shoulder as if to console her but Gerri’s letting it fly this time. She pulls violently away from her dad’s grip and continues the hysterics all the while turned toward the two men and waving frantically at them to go away. They immediately stop, turn and walk briskly in retreat toward the safety of the tree. It’s a small victory and she won't have to see whatever crass ceremony they hold to finally lower her mother and brother into the ground but far from any consolation, it just adds to the boiling over of grief.