Tender is the Flesh(40)
He sits down on a chair next to the bed in which his father lies. The man’s hands are crossed over his chest. His hair has been combed and his body perfumed. He’s dead.
“When did it happen?”
“Today, in the early hours. He died in his sleep.”
Nélida closes the door and leaves him alone.
When he touches his father’s hands, he finds that they’re freezing and can’t help but move his away. He doesn’t feel anything. What he wants to do is cry and hug his father, but he looks at the body as though it were a stranger’s. Now his father is free from the madness, he thinks, from this horrific world, and he feels something like relief, but in fact the stone in his chest is getting bigger.
He goes over to the window that opens onto the garden. A hummingbird hovers right at the level of his eyes. For a few seconds, the bird seems to be watching him. He wishes he could touch it, but it moves quickly and disappears. He thinks there’s no way that something so beautiful and small could cause harm. He thinks that just maybe the hummingbird is his father’s spirit saying goodbye.
It’s then that he feels the stone shift in his chest and the tears begin to fall.
11
He leaves the room. Nélida asks him to follow her so he can sign the papers. They step into her office and she offers him a cup of coffee, which he turns down. Nélida is nervous; she shuffles the papers, takes a sip of water. He thinks that this should be routine for her, that there’s no reason to be holding up the paperwork as she is.
“What’s going on, Nélida?”
Nélida looks at him, disconcerted. She’s never been this direct, or this aggressive.
“It’s nothing, dear, just that I had to call your sister.”
She looks at him with a bit of guilt, but also resolve.
“These are the nursing home’s rules and there are no exceptions. You know I adore you, dear, but I’d be putting my job at risk. Who knows what we’d be dealing with if your sister showed up and made a scene. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”
“That’s fine.”
On other occasions, he would have consoled her and said something like “Don’t worry about it” or “No problem”. But not today.
“You’ll have to sign the consent form to cremate him. Your sister has already sent it back with a virtual signature, but she clarified that she won’t be able to attend the cremation. We can make the call to the funeral parlour if you like.”
“Go ahead.”
“Of course, you’ll have to attend the cremation, to confirm it’s taken place. They’ll give you the urn there.”
“That’s fine.”
“Will you be wanting a simulacrum of a funeral?”
“No.”
“Of course, almost no one has them now. But what about the farewell service?”
“No.”
Nélida looks at him with surprise. She drinks some more water and crosses her arms. “Your sister would like to have the service, and legally, she has the right. I understand you’re in denial, but she’s determined to say goodbye.”
He breathes deeply, feels a crushing exhaustion. The stone is now the size of his whole chest. He’s not going to argue with anyone. Not with Nélida, not with his sister, not with all the people who will attend the simulacrum of a wake, what they call a “farewell service”, just to be on good terms with his sister, even though these people never knew his father, and didn’t once take it upon themselves to ask how he was. Then he laughs and says, “Fine, let her have the service. Let her take care of something for once. Just one thing.”
Nélida looks at him with surprise and a bit of pity. “I understand your anger and you have reason to feel the way you do, but she’s your sister. You only have one family.”
He tries to recall when it was, exactly, that Nélida went from being a nursing home employee to someone who believes she has the right to give advice and her opinion, and to fall again and again into platitudes and irritating clichés.
“Give me the papers, Nélida. Please.”
Nélida recoils. She looks at him, taken aback. He’s always been kind to her, affectionate even. She gives him the papers in silence. He signs them and says, “I want him to be cremated today, now.”
“Okay, dear. After the Transition, everything was sped up. Take a seat in the waiting room and I’ll look after it. They’ll come get him in a regular car, just so you know. Hearses are no longer used.”
“Yeah, everyone knows that.”
“Right, well, I just wanted to clarify it because there are a lot of clueless people who think that things haven’t changed when it comes to these matters.”
“How could things not have changed after the attacks? It was in all the papers. No one wants their dead family member to be eaten en route to the cemetery, Nélida.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m nervous, and I’m not thinking clearly. I cared a lot about your father and all of this is very difficult for me.”
There’s a long silence. He’s unwilling to concede an apology in return. Instead, he looks at her impatiently and she gets upset.
“I know it’s not for me to ask, Marcos, but are you okay? This is very sad news, I know that, but for some time now you’ve been a bit off, you have bags under your eyes, you seem tired.”