The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(99)
*
Luci hadn’t spent a lot of time in church before this. In fact, this might be the longest she’d ever sat in a pew. But she’d at least known what to expect from movies and TV, so she’d worn her black dress and nylons even though she didn’t like them. She also wore the pink flower bracelet that Colby had given her for her birthday, balancing it with a pink rhinestone clip in her hair and a light pink lip gloss. She opted to sit with her friends, not her family, who were behind her and to the right. She figured her friends needed her more right now.
There had been some talk of not having a funeral under the circumstances, but Luci was glad they’d chosen to go ahead so that everyone had a traditional time and space to mourn. She was also glad to have the extra preparation time for herself … before she had to say a final goodbye.
A massive gold cross loomed over the open coffin at the front of the church sanctuary. Luci tried to pay attention to the minister rather than the edge of the white waxy profile she could see just above the side of the coffin.
The church was really full. Luci doubted that many of the people there had even known this church existed before today. Vanessa — who Luci recognized from the card shop, of course — sat right behind Colby’s parents, Candace and Abram, who along with their daughter Cicely occupied the front row. Every now and then, depending on what the minister was saying and whether or not Colby’s mother was slumped over her handkerchief, Vanessa placed her hand on Candace’s shoulder and squeezed. It appeared that Vanessa had figured out what to say and do even without the bereavement card.
From her vantage point two rows behind, Luci couldn’t see the faces of Colby’s father, mother, and sister unless they turned toward the coffin, but she could read their body language. Candace dabbed her eyes regularly with a black lace handkerchief, which Luci was sure her grandmother would proclaim gauche. Abram looked disconnected and maybe a little bored. Cicely wasn’t currently crying, but by her crazy puffy eyes fixed on the coffin, it was obvious she had been.
All of Luci’s friends had come, of course, and they hadn’t even bugged her about what to wear. She was glad to see they’d managed to dress well without her supervision. It was a respectful gesture, even though not one of them felt Colby deserved that respect — even before he was dead. At least half the school was in the church, though none of them had been close to Colby. Luci wondered where the other half were.
“John, a close friend of Colby’s, will now read a favorite poem,” the minister said, finally voicing the words Luci had been waiting to hear. “Friends and family are invited to visit and say their good byes.”
The minister beckoned to John, who was sitting on Luci’s right. John, his suit too tight across his shoulders, nervously pulled the cheat sheet Luci had typed up for him from his pocket. John was one of Luci’s oldest friends, and he hadn’t been even remotely close to Colby. But, reading a poem was the correct thing to do, and though she could pick it, it wasn’t for her to stand up and read.
John glanced at her — she saw him in her peripheral vision — and she nodded slightly without meeting his gaze. He lumbered to his feet, only doing so because she asked it of him.
As John pushed through to the aisle to approach the podium, other mourners glanced around, not knowing what to do.
Finally, Candace stood, inhaling her newly renewed sobs as she practically dragged Abram with her toward the coffin. Cicely dutifully followed her parents, scuffing her feet on the fine-piled carpeting.
John stood at the podium, tapped his finger on the microphone even though it was obviously on, and cleared his throat. “Okay. Here it goes ... I have no idea what it means, but this was, like, one of Colby’s favorite poems from English lit. I think he wrote a paper on it …” He glanced up from his cheat sheet to Luci, and she nodded to encourage him to continue.
Oh, yet we trust that somehow good will be the final end of ill, to pangs of nature, sins of will, defects of doubt, and taints of blood …
A line had begun to form up the center aisle toward the coffin. Mourners shuffled over to look at Colby’s body, then crossed away down a side aisle to exit the church. It was old-fashioned and ritualistic. Luci had made sure that Colby’s mother intended to subject herself to such a display. It was part of the plan.
That nothing walks with aimless feet; that not one life shall be destroy’d, or cast as rubbish to the void, when God hath made the pile complete.
Luci straightened her skirt and started to rise, only to be immediately pulled back to her seat by her girlfriend, Melinda, who was sitting on her left.
“You’re not going up there!” Melinda hissed. “This is all just sick. Looking at him and everything. You aren’t going up there. Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then. I’m coming with you.”
Luci stood. She had steeled herself to move forward but was now forced to wait to step into the aisle. It was blocked by a wave of stragglers who had decided to brave the trek at the same time as her.
Thus stalled, she was forced to listen to John not understanding a single word coming out of his mouth, but continuing to recite the poem as requested. Because ultimately, that’s what true friends did for each other.
That not a worm is cloven in vain; that not a moth with vain desire is shrivell’d in a fruitless fire, or but subserves another’s gain.