![]() | ![]() |
Kate spent the following week with her parents in a fog-like trance as they made the copious arrangements needed to bury Marco and Renzo.
The first stop was O’Halloran & Murphy Funeral Home. Her dad maneuvered south through the always-busy Snelling traffic, and brought the car to a stop in the funeral home’s huge parking lot, piles of snow plowed high around its perimeter. Kate sat motionless in the back seat until her mother opened the door and leaned in, reaching for her hand.
“Come on, dear. I know you don’t want to do this. I’ll do my best to get you through it as quickly as possible.”
Grateful for her words, Kate took her mother’s gloved hand and slid out of the car. A bitter wind slapped her face before sneaking into the crevices of her tan wool coat, sending a shiver through to her bones. Wool in January was never adequate, but her mother insisted on “dressing up” for such a solemn occasion.
The grim sky pressed downward, its cold, gray clouds seemingly close enough to touch. Kate’s dad opened the trunk and removed the garment bag holding the clothing her husband and son would be buried in.
The three of them walked gingerly across the icy parking lot, side-by-side. They stepped onto a short sidewalk toward a stout, white-pillared entrance, canopied with a peaked roof bearing the name of the facility in tall, gilded letters. Kate had been to many wakes in this red-brick building, but had never noticed that sign or the white shuttered windows.
Her dad held open the door for Kate and her mother, and followed them into a sizeable foyer with chandeliered lighting and soft, beige carpeting. Kate welcomed the room’s immediate warmth. Silence filled the space, prompting them to whisper. To their left was an office with glass windows. A tall, middle-aged man with thinning brown hair looked up and came out to greet them, speaking softly.
“Good afternoon. You must be Mrs. De Luca.” He reached for Kate’s hand. His touch felt warm, a bit sticky. “My name is Lewis Patterson. I’m so sorry for your losses.”
Losses. Plural.
“I’ll be helping you with the arrangements today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Patterson,” said Louise. “Yes, this is our daughter, Kate De Luca. I’m Louise O’Brien and this is my husband, John.”
Kate forced a weak smile but felt distracted. Marco and Renzo were somewhere in the building. Their presence was the only reason she could put one foot in front of the other. She suddenly became acutely aware of her burning face and eyes, raw from wiping the never-ending flood of tears.
Lewis led them into a moderately sized office with a window facing Snelling Avenue. After the paperwork was completed, he then showed them where the wake would be held.
Kate let her mother handle the details. She followed behind, saying nothing. Her dad’s firm grip on her elbow kept her steady, as the now-familiar numbness returned and grew heavy. She preferred the feeling of nothingness. She didn’t care about any of the details, nor did she have the energy to argue with her mother about them. She felt barely conscious, let alone sane enough to make decisions.
A familiar wall of darkness began pressing Kate’s mind inward as though she were wrapped in a straitjacket. She felt lightheaded and breathless as her parents’ voices grew distant. She continued to nod in agreement no matter the decision.
Thankfully, her mother knew Kate better than she’d thought and most decisions were adequate. Louise waited though, for a nod from Kate before finalizing anything. There was one decision they’d disagreed on. Kate insisted on open caskets for the wake. She didn’t articulate the reason, but the truth was, she needed to see them one last time. Once this decision was made, they followed Lewis along a carpeted hallway and down some stairs to what Kate could only describe as a casket store.
The room held a faint odor of newness that burned her nostrils and made her body go rigid. She put her hand to her mouth to stop her lips from quivering. In front of her were rows and rows of caskets, one more elaborate than the next. Death boxes of all sizes, colors and finishes. Each on its own cloth-covered pedestal for better eye-level viewing of their satin bedding and pillows.
Kate’s vision darkened. Everything seemed to compress and shrink. Nausea curled in her belly, as her head began to spin. She squeezed her eyes before finding herself looking upward. Her breath grew shallow. Voices muffled. The walls closed in and quickly faded and disappeared. A translucent light grew, bright at first, but then quickly dwindled to a murky gloom before darkness enveloped her.
Kate opened her eyes to find she was sitting alone in a field of long, green grass, a forest of trees surrounding her in the distance. Before her, were two deep openings in the ground. A mountain of black dirt, six feet high, surrounded her and the holes. Two open caskets holding Marco and Renzo were perched above the openings, suspended mid-air, as they gently swayed back-and-forth. Dressed in black suits with white dress shirts and black ties, Marco and Renzo’s arms were folded across their stomachs, eyes closed. They looked alive, but asleep.
The earth began to rumble. Kate tried to stand and flee but slipped, and her feet fell out from under her. She scrambled back up as the mountains of dirt shook and tumbled down like an avalanche. It quickly formed mounds around her legs and waist, trapping her movement. The cool, moist soil then crashed on top of her, across her head and into her eyes and mouth. She coughed and choked, as she reached across both boxes with her arms, the dirt’s weight nearly breaking her bones as she screamed soundlessly. Her efforts to shield Renzo and Marco from the landslide were futile. They pleaded with their eyes but her dirt-filled mouth prevented her from crying out. All she could do was choke and watch them disappear under the heap of black soil.
Kate awoke to her father’s face close to hers. Her eyes darted around the room, as he spoke to her.
“Sweetheart. Are you alright? Can you hear me?”
She coughed and choked but it wasn’t necessary. There was no dirt in her mouth. No dirt anywhere. She blinked.
“Kate?”
“I can hear you, Dad.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to press back the burning tears, but she was unable to stop the warm drips from traveling down both cheeks toward her ears.
Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I—” She shook her head back and forth.
“Shush,” he whispered with a sad smile. “You fainted. Can you get up? Or do you need to stay put a bit longer?”
Cloth-covered pedestals and the bottom sections of caskets encircled her. Her mother’s nyloned legs and burgundy pencil-skirt were to her left. Kate twisted her head to look up at her. Louise was bent over, wringing her hands, her hair falling forward around her face.
Kate pressed herself up onto her elbows. “I’ll be okay. Help me up, Dad. Let’s get this over with. I need to get out of here.”
John helped her up, keeping a firm hand under her elbow. With the spinning of her head subsiding, Kate nodded her willingness to proceed.
Louise opened the door and allowed Lewis back in. He gave Kate a sincere and concerned smile.
“You need to pick them, dear,” her mom said softly.
Kate inhaled deeply, took a quick look around, and walked to a shiny, black coffin with white satin interior. “These will do. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“Okay, Kate,” said John. “Let’s get you some fresh air while your mother finishes things up.”
Kate gave Lewis a slight nod and allowed her dad to help her out of the hellhole and back outside. The icy air knocked her senses straight. It was exactly what she’d needed.
“Do you want to sit in the car and wait?”
“No. I need the air. You get in. It’s freezing. I just need to be alone for a minute.”
“Sure, kiddo.” He kissed her cheek and got into the car, starting the engine.
Kate looked up at the steely sky and tried to rid herself of the terrifying dream. She knew, though, that she’d never forget the look of terror in her husband and son’s eyes as the dirt filled up around them.
She cried quietly, wiping the tears before they froze onto her cheeks. She wished she were anywhere else in the world.