Brian, the shorter one, took a step forward, but Gary’s arm restrained him as he spoke. “Just move along, sir. We can’t take care of your wife. We’re sorry, we really are. But, the morgue’s already full up. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to leave her here, even if we’d take her. There’s no telling how long she’d sit here. Hell, we have some bodies in the hallways. Unrefriger…”
The clipboard-wielding man shot the evil eye at Gary and shouted to interrupt him, “Mr. Jenkins is mistaken. Our services have not declined in the least during this difficult time. We merely have been forced to restrict access to our services to our customers with a pre-existing relationship with our company.”
Cooper turned back toward the Jeep, waving his hand in disgust, “Yeah. Whatever.” He turned his head towards Dranko, who had moved back towards the driver’s side door. “Let’s go.”
Wordless, Dranko climbed back into the car. The sound of their doors slamming shut was muted, matching their defeated state of mind.
They drove back to Cooper’s house in silence; the only sound was Cooper’s fingers rapping on the door frame. His head swam with bitter emotion and confused thoughts. My father always said the well-off took the best of everything first. That we were left second or third-best. He would turn over in his grave to know they’ve now taken the right to be buried first, too!
Suddenly, he punched the window with a loud thwap and Jake jumped in his seat and Dranko jerked the wheel to the left, before correcting.
“Damn you, I thought we’d been shot at!”
“Sorry. I just had to direct my brain back to problem solving,” and Cooper sank back into ruminating for the rest of the drive home. He didn’t tell Dranko he was trying to push away the shame he felt for losing control and threatening the other man’s life moments before.
The rest of the drive home was silent and uneventful. As they pulled alongside their home, Jake broke the quiet.
“We should bury her in our backyard. She liked to sit out there and watch the birds. Any birds. Do you remember? Even the stupid crows.” Jake’s voice had surprised him. More so, the words that came out shocked him with their newfound maturity.
“You’re right, son. We’ll do just that. This way, she’ll always be close by,” he said in response.
Jake gazed back at him with a look of self-satisfaction stained with grief.
After a moment’s contemplation, Jake nodded, exited the Jeep and ran off to get a shovel.
He turned toward Dranko, “Can you get word to any of the neighbors that knew Elena well about the funeral? The ones who are able should be here in an hour.” Dranko was off without another word.
Chapter 9
Cooper was bathed in sweat, despite the chilly temperature. He had shed his jacket and shirt, his soaked-through white t-shirt and pants were all that remained. Cotton kills when wet, he thought as he shivered. The dark earth lay piled next to the trench he had dug over the past hour. The rich black earth contrasted sharply with the bright emerald grass and clover all around. The deep chasm and the splattered dirt made it look like a gaping, open wound in the Earth. Like the wound in my heart. The hole felt much, much deeper than it was. The grave looked like it could swallow him whole and his grief tried to pull him in. He consciously steadied his feet and firmed his legs.
Almost done with digging the grave, he looked toward the sky and wiped his brow. Above, the sky was an oppressively blank gray, not a discernible cloud in view. A black crow had alighted on a nearby telephone wire, just beyond the reach of the rocks Cooper had thrown at it. It had stood vigil over him as he dug, emitting an incessant caw-caw-caw that went on and on, scarcely interrupted. Now, as he stood, leaning against his shovel, gazing upward, the crow grew silent.
“Why thank you, my good man,” Cooper said feigning to doff a hat. “A moment’s peace is appreciated.”
Jake giggled from where he sat atop the pile of freshly broken earth. The soil was a farmer’s delight—moist, black, solid but without too much clay. Jake had made a good effort at helping his father dig the grave, but a few minutes ago he had collapsed onto the pile of earth. They exchanged a smile and Cooper began digging, scooping out the last bit.
The crow rewarded his work with renewed cawing.
A moment later, Cooper heard the creak of someone stepping onto the deck. His right hand immediately swept back towards where his pistol was holstered, he used the left to lean the shovel against the fence. He stepped forward half a pace, to put his body between the deck and Jake.
He relaxed when Dranko’s head of unkempt brown hair came into view. Dranko saw how Cooper was positioned.
“OK. I guess I need to start announcing myself, don’t I?”
“Probably a good idea,” Cooper said as he returned to shoveling.
“People will be here in about fifteen minutes. Most are either sick or too afraid of getting sick. But Lily, Mark, Lisa, Peter, and Calvin will all be here.”
“Just Peter? What about his parents?”
“Dead,” Dranko said soberly.
Cooper asked robotically, still digging, “Which one?”
“Both.”
The shovel rammed the earth as he looked up in surprise, “My God. Poor kid.” Cooper saw the growing look of alarm on Jake’s face. “Don’t worry. I would be sick already if I was going to get this thing.”
“Why don’t you and Jake go get cleaned up. I can finish this last bit up.”
Cooper stood up and handed the shovel to him, “Good idea. Let’s go kiddo, time for a quick shower.”
The hot shower was welcome. He inhaled the steam gratefully, letting it cleanse him. He vigorously scrubbed the dirt from his body and from under his fingernails. He was in the middle of washing his hair when he realized he’d grabbed his wife’s shampoo by mistake. The distinct smell of it overwhelmed him. He steadied himself with one hand against the wall and the other came to his face as he wept deeply. The sobbing wracked his body as the day’s events hit him like a bulldozer. He struggled to stay quiet, he didn’t want Jake to hear him like this. He slowly sank to his knees and sat down in the shower, unable to stop. Slowly, the hot water turned warm, and then cold. Still, he sat there, lost in grief, the water washing over him.
He remembered the promise he’d made to his wife. He tightened his jaw and rubbed his face firmly with his hand from chin to forehead. He rose resolutely, turned off the shower, and went to get dressed.
He stood silently, Jake leaning into him and clutching his pant leg, as Calvin and Dranko lowered Elena’s body into the ground. He wore a black suit, a black tie, and a wrinkled white shirt underneath. He hadn’t had time to iron it.
Clustered around him were their friends who either had already been sick and recovered, like Lily, or those who knew they had already been exposed, like himself and Jake. Lily Stott stood directly across from him, her translucent white hair picking up what little light there was. Her eyes often shifted color between brown and green. Today, they shone like light emeralds. Lily was the “Grand Kentucky Dame” of their neighborhood, in her eighties, feisty, sarcastic, and with a wit still so sharp it could score diamonds.
Next to her stood Peter Garcia, barely seventeen, and just orphaned by the loss of both parents. Cooper was impressed with his strength to be here, attending a funeral. He was of medium height and had chestnut colored hair on the longish side, covering his ears and dropping below his eyes on most days. Today, he had slicked it all back and tucked it behind his ears. He stood stoop shouldered, looking firmly at the ground. Lily had one arm around him, rubbing his back in comfort.