And Ruin Followed Behind Her

Chapter 2-2

WHEN I GOT BACK TO the funeral home, Norman met me at the entrance, stuttering and dry-mouthed. “I have done everything I could. I spared no expense. The body is ready for examination and we can start whenever you are ready.”

“Thank you,” I told him. “You aren’t getting paid one cent more, though. Just remember that. Where is the body?”

Norman pulled open a set of thick, red curtains to reveal a big room filled with flowers. An oak casket sat on a platform, with four dozen chairs placed in rows in front of it. Mama didn’t know four dozen people when she was alive. What were the chances they would come to her funeral?

“There are too many chairs,” I said.

“It’s the standard number, Miss Freeman. Mourners tend to come out to pay respects, even if they didn’t know the deceased that well in life. You will be surprised.”

“Oh,” I said absently. Being in the funeral home was making me feel somber. “I guess it’s fine then. I went to my old house and my neighbor said she saw the obituary, so maybe there will be a lot of people here. Thank you for that.”

I walked through the curtains onto the hideous, plaid carpet lining the chamber. Honestly, it looked more like a swingers club than a funeral home. Bright red wallpaper with purple birds wrapped around the room.

The top of the casket was open, and inside, my mother laid peaceful and smiling, as if she were having a pleasant dream. “Well, Mama,” I said, walking slowly toward the platform, “this is everything you wanted. I did what you asked. I made the announcement. I came back to Chandler. You’re being buried next to Dad.”

I bit my lip. “It didn’t have to be like this. You didn’t have to go so soon. Why didn’t you do chemo? Why didn’t you try to save yourself? Why did you leave me all alone?” I was crying now.

The coffin smelled of lilacs and honey. Mama—I couldn’t get over how happy she looked. She rarely looked that way in life, and certainly not with so many people looking at her.

“What am I supposed to do now, Mama?” I said, looking down at her. “I don’t have anybody else. I didn’t want anybody else. And now, I’m alone. Am I just supposed to carry on like life’s worth livin’ now, Mama? Cuz I gotta say, it ain’t worth livin’ now.”

I took a long moment of silence and dropped my head down to the casket. After a full minute of silence, I heard a throat clear behind me.

“I know what you mean,” somebody behind me said. I knew it was Adelaide, even though we only talked once. “I can’t say life’s worth living for me, either.”

I wheeled around. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Well, if you didn’t want to be found,” she said, holding up the paper. “You shouldn’t have announced where you would be in the paper.”

“In all fairness, I didn’t think I would have a stalker following my every move when I ran it.”

“I’m not a stalker, Ms. Freeman—”

“Please, you are living in my house, call me Julia.”

“I don’t wanna live in your house, ma’am. I want to go home, and be with my family, with my Kim—but that ain’t gonna happen unless you help me.”

“Why me?”

“Because Elka said—”

“Elka said a lot of things!” I shouted. “She didn’t tell me anything about how to help you.”

“She said you were good people,” Adelaide replied calmly, inching toward me. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have nobody else to turn to. It’s not like there’s a rolodex of fairy folk—”

I leapt down from the platform toward her. “Hush up now. People are gonna think you are crazy, talking about fairies.”

“Fine. But you know. And I don’t have anyone else. All I know is you and Elka.”

I beckoned her forward. “Let me see the picture again.”

Adelaide reached into her back pocket and pulled out the picture of her and Kim laughing together. Adelaide had her hands wrapped around Kim’s chest. They both looked so happy. Like at least a half dozen pictures of Mama and me.

I grabbed the picture and stared at it intently. “I don’t know if I can help you, you know that, right?”

“I don’t have any other choice. Without you, it’s either pray the police start caring or figure it out myself. And I swear I’ve tried to do it myself, but I can’t get anywhere, Julia. You are my last hope. Maybe you can find her when everybody else has failed.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“Two weeks.”

I nodded. “All right. It’s not like I have anything else to do. Let me get through this funeral and then I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You don’t know just how incompetent I am at this kind of thing.”