The Funeral

The call came in the evening.

“Jess..Mom passed away.” choked a voice through the receiver.

“Yeah?” Jess replied.

“It’s Mom, Jess, Mom’s gone.”

A thick silence cast itself over the line.

“I…” The voice sighed after a while, a static storm through the phone. “The funeral is on Friday, I’ll pick you up.” The line disconnected, and Jess slipped the phone back into his pocket. His next class was in seven minutes; he would make it in time.

Friday came quickly, and Jess found himself wearing a hand-me-down suit, loose around the hips and collar. It was a fairly large procession, and most of the guests present were people Jess had never seen before. Jess’ brother left his side as soon as they entered, greeting the strangers. Hi Mr. This. Hello Mrs. That. He spoke smoothly, tight-lipped with grieving family, smiling with reminiscing friends.

Jess watched for a second, then glided around the room, sliding cold catering food onto his plate. He took a seat outside, away from the main crowd. The procession would be over in about three hours, he calculated; there would be enough time for him to get a few chapters into Relativity Simplified Version 11.

A large, grizzly man sat down next to Jess before his mind could wander.

“This stuff’s good, but not as good as Marcy’s gnocchi.” he said, between mouthfuls of food. He gulped audibly like a cartoon. “She was a great woman.” Jess scooted a few inches away.

Without warning, the man threw his arm around Jess and pulled him in, shaking violently. Panicking, Jess flailed his arms trying to free himself from his grip, but the man’s arm was locked in a vice. Giant, whaling noises froze Jess in place, as thick tears began dropping onto his head.

“Damn, it feels good to cry. I needed that.” he said a lifetime later. He blew his nose, a trumpet blaring across the grass. Some guests turned curiously at the sound.

“There was this one time, where Marcy and I- wait where are you going?” Jess was a few feet away, slapping the moisture off his hair. Thunk. Something hit him in the back of his head, and he turned around, hand balled into a fist.

“Take this, Marcy wanted you to have it.” A silver coin glinted at him from the dirt. The man gave a strong wink, and walked back into the building, closing the door behind him. Jess shot a look at the silver coin, an etched star staring back at him. He turned and walked away, leaving the coin despondent on the dirt floor.

Evening air whipped against his hair as he strolled down the street. There was no space for him in that funeral, and he took that opportunity to escape. Streetlights hovered above him, casting shadows that moved faster than he did. He watched this illusion, the cycles controlled by him and him alone.

“Ah, it’s such a nice night out.” A voice interrupted his solitude. Jess’ brother appeared beside him, wobbling and stumbling. “Drinks get me so heated, I needed this air.” He let out a hearty laugh, then wrapped his arm around Jess. He shrugged it off, leaving his brother to miss a step and trip. Jess kept walking.

“Why?”
Jess’ brother called out to him, knees on the ground.

“Not even for Mom. She raised us, She- she’s gone Jess, she’s gone..”

Jess kept walking.

“Is this about high school? About that? If so then Jess, believe me, trust me, I wholeheartedly believe in you, just please..say something, anything..” He choked back a sob. “We’re all that’s left, Jess.”

Jess stopped.

“I don’t believe you.” he said curtly, and kept walking. His brother did not follow.

Jess found himself in front of a crooked vending machine, an eerie hum filling the empty space between them. He’d walked a bit and got thirsty, and found himself attracted to the dim light of the vending machine like a moth to flame. The choice of drinks were strange. Saturated colors hid behind the glass, like a misplaced bottle of rainbows. He recognized none of the brands, nor their quirky illustrations.

Regardless, he fished into his right pocket for a few quarters. He slotted a few into the machine, just for it to spit it back out. Scratching his head, he tried again, each attempt less successful than the last. Thinking it took other coins, he checked his left pocket and felt a foreign item inside. He pulled out a silver coin, larger than the quarters, an etched star staring at him with the same glimmer he had seen it last on the funeral ground floor.

He looked around, expecting to see the face of the large man from a few hours ago peek his head around the corner, exposing his elaborate prank. But nobody arrived. He held the coin in his hand, feeling its weight. After a second, he slotted the coin into the machine, and heard it drop into something inside. For a moment, there was nothing. Then the labeled buttons lit up, highlighting the colored drinks inside. Satisfied, Jess perused, and pushed the button on a purple drink, his favorite color. The lights dimmed down.

And then he fell.