The Resurrection of Joleigh-Anna Kelmann

Goodbye, Matt-2

Strangely, we did see. Guess it made sense to Uncle Mitch too. He didn’t ever once try to talk Matt out of his racing dreams. Talked to him about it with all the animation Matt himself displayed. Always came with us to meets and never held back from backing Matt when he needed it. Matt paid back the debt. Matt always paid back his debts.

Except for the last one.

Just ten days ago, Irvy’d gone in with him on a Porsche for some road races Matt intended to enter. Wouldn’t ever be tried out on any race now. I wanted to, but Mom cried when I said it, so I let it go. Was the first time she ever wished I’d just be a girl. So now, Irvy and Uncle Mitch would probably find a buyer for the car. Maybe for all the cars.

Not that Irvy seemed to care about the money. Could be he’d opt to just keep the Porsche himself. I sort of hoped he would. Of course, I’d gone with them the day they bought that car. The one I’d liked the best of the three we’d test driven that afternoon was the one Matt and I drove home in.

Somehow, I had to find a way around Mom’s objections. She’d never had any before Matt’s accident. As treacherous as the rally courses were, she’d never held me back.

Okay, sure, I’m impulsive, too. But just because I’m the tomboy type and can’t always sit still for longer’n two minutes doesn’t mean I’m totally brainless. Never had to kill myself to get awesome grades. Just read the material over, did a few exercises in whatever lesson it was to prove to my teachers and my parents I really knew what it was all about—that’s it. Graduated at the top of my class.

Didn’t follow Irvy into med school or go into law or anything like what was expected of me—by The Club’s Standards. Instead, I’d chosen to squander my talents working at a recreation center with disadvantaged kids and spending time with the lonely elderly at Seaton Hall. Of course, my most shocking mistake had been to join Matt in his dream of rally racing—whizzing down pea gravel roads, flying up and down hills and around hairpin turns, maybe ending up in a swamp because I hadn’t read the route book quite accurately.

What really bugged me was that while it was reckoned that I was wasting my time at the Center—probably influencing these tender young lives to a spirit of rebelliousness—these same discriminating officials of The Club judged Jace-Anthony to be a wholesome role model for the kids there! Their only lament about him was his lack of a teaching degree.

“He ought to become a real teacher! Since he likes to teach swimming and athletics to disadvantaged kids, he ought to become a coach or something of the sort! Someone should suggest it to him. He’s a sensible lad, he’d listen!”

Well, the sensible lad still could be persuaded by a cry of, “Chic-ken!”

Just as Matt had.

So now here we were assembled at Franklin Funeral Hall with all the members of The Club and other family members and friends to weep his tragic passing.

Except for my cousin Craig Stanley and his family, and my Uncle David Kelmann and his family. But they had a good reason not to be here. Well, David and Marsha did—one of their four girls has a serious heart condition. No clue what was up with Craig and Audra.

Jaimee’s condition is such that extreme emotion can make her ill. Which is exactly what happened last Sunday. She collapsed and was now in the hospital, following surgery, making a slow recovery. We all were praying that she would suffer no relapses and start to make quicker progress.

Because it would suck if we ended up burying both Matt and Jaimee.

Our family seemed to be experiencing more than our share of sad times. Just a month ago one of my cousins, Lawron Merriwether, had been killed in a car wreck—and his father, Mom’s oldest brother, Kevin, exactly a month before that.

So, three deaths in as many months was horrible enough. Didn’t need it to become four.

Unlike The Club, though, David and Marsha had envied Matt’s energy. Appreciated his genuine concern for little Jaimee. He used to take time to go with me to entertain her and her sisters. So, them, we could forgive for not being here with us. For my brothers and me and Lannette, they’re our second favorite aunt and uncle.

In general, though, everyone’s hectic life allowed for attendance at funerals. Occasionally, a wedding—rarely, a birth. But always, always a funeral. Nothing makes people regret hurtful words and actions—things left undone or unsaid—than does a funeral. Or recall all the words of wisdom they’d imparted to the deceased—which, of course, went unheeded for the most part and look what happened because of it!

What a field day they were having tonight! Lannette and I wished they’d all leave, but there was yet another hour before we could kiss them all good bye. Some of them, we wanted to just plain kiss off!

Like Uncle Todd Merriwether—who didn’t seem to me to be all that loaded with common sense himself. He’d dropped out of school at thirteen and at fifty-two was still trying to discover what he wanted to be when he grew up. But there he was, crying about Matt’s shortcomings.

“Why hadn’t that kid done something better with his life? Such a waste! Which is what he did with his time in school! We all knew this was bound to happen sometime! He was just too wild!”

“At his age—playing Chicken for God’s sakes! And taking his girlfriend along besides!” Uncle Buck, Dad’s oldest brother, threw up a hand in bewilderment. “Out there on the other side of the island! No ambulance could’ve gotten to him in time even if Krysta had been able to call for one sooner!”

“Heard he staked that restored ‘67 Nova of his in the deal and not the Subaru he was driving at the time!” Cousin Teddy Merriwether informed. Teddy was Uncle Jedd and Aunt Nedra’s eldest. We’d long ago secretly bestowed the nickname ‘Turdy’ on him and used it still. He bored on, “Didn’t he realize he couldn’t drive the thing dead? Noble of him to show ‘em all the true color of bravery!” He gave a derisive snicker. “Gushing Red!”

Lannette groaned and looked ready to puke. She sent him a black look which he caught since he was looking right over at us. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging I’d heard it. Turdy’s a jerk.

How glad I was that Krysta wasn’t there to hear all this. She’d watched it all go down unable to do a thing about it. Maybe I’d need a counselor too if I’d had to witness anything so horrifying. Be left alone with a dying person . . . having to decide between staying with him and finding help. Guess her cell phone had died on her too.

No one seemed to give a moment’s consideration as to how Matty must have been feeling about then. Had he known he was dying? Had he thought of us? Or had he been in too much pain to think at all? Or just plain out of it—which seemed likely. While Krysta had been unable to tell us much of anything, she’d been coaxed to relate to the police most of the story; which had been headlines for the papers next day. But the things we wanted to know weren’t, of course, in that version of the story.

Guess talking about it again and again just wasn’t in her—right now at any rate. I’m not sure if I hoped that one day she’d be able to or not. I’d like to think he hadn’t suffered too horribly.

Didn’t have any trouble hoping the guys who’d egged him on were suffering in jail though.

“How could anybody let someone bleed to death practically all by himself in the dead of night?” Aunt Becky, Uncle Todd’s wife, demanded wrathfully. “That poor girl! Scared to death, I’ll bet!”

Actually, it’d been about eleven o’clock. But under the circumstances, it might as well have been the dead of night.

Answered Aunt Nedra, the Sweet and Gentle. “Well, you know that bunch! Matt’s had trouble with them before. They were always trying to get him to do dangerous things of one sort or another. The police say they apparently began mocking his racing accomplishments and when they challenged him he lost his head and accepted.”

“Well, that was Matt!” observed my cousin Wendy. “Maybe if it’d happened in winter he wouldn’t’ve bled to death.”

“Maybe so, but he’d’ve been alive now if he could’ve curbed his impulsiveness!” put in Great Grandpa Kelmann, who carried a cane for appearances only—being in better shape than most of his great grandsons. “Cars aren’t for playing such witless games! But you can’t tell kids anything! They know it all! Ha! I did at his age! Yessir! I gave my old pop and my mother too a scare every once a week! Still, I never thought he’d do anything like this! Especially not in front of a woman—except maybe Joleigh!”

“Well, then, no wonder Matty was a hellion, Poppa Louis! In any case, no one should hold anything against Mitch and Lynore!” Aunt Nedra pointed out. “Matty was of age after all!”

“One of us should’ve stepped in and took a hand with that kid! Slapped up Mitch and Lynore and made them see the storm coming!” Aunt Dorene uttered with deep-seated conviction. “Probably isn’t going to end with him!”

“Oh, lord, like she cares so deeply!” Lannette uttered disparagingly—but not so’s anyone but I could hear her, of course.

Aunt Dorene, Mom’s oldest sister and Crown Princess of The Club had the annoying habit of proclaiming, “Don’t any of you call on me to baby-sit! I’m not single to be anybody’s Mary Poppins!”

As if anyone would really want to leave their defenseless children in her care. That her world revolved solely around herself, is the only thing all of us cousins agreed on. Even Turdy, even though, he’s just like her.

Still, I was fair. “Well, she did take us to The Newport Creamery!”

Lannette gave me a sour look. “Yeah, right. Once when we were about ten! What about all those times she planned family outings but left our families out! Even now she does it!”

“That’s why they’re called family ‘outings’,” I informed her.

She cracked an involuntary laugh despite her grief. “Don’t, Joleigh! Don’t get me started. I won’t be able to stop!”

“Oh, heinous! Think what they’d say then! How dare you laugh like an i***t at your brother’s wake?” I altered my voice. “But—it’s just like Mitch and Lynore to let her stick with Joleigh-Anna at a time like—”

“Jo-leigh!” Lannette cut off my imitation of Aunt Willa and bit her lips hard to keep from losing it altogether.

Was nerves, you know. She’d break into giggles if a tiger was about to rip her to shreds. Which pretty much described the members of The Club.

This affliction had gotten her into trouble at school, oh, tons of times. The worst was the time she got blamed for a fire in the girls’ room trash basket. Someone else had tossed a butt in there, and it burst into flames just after Lannette had left. So since it was she who’d been last seen coming out of there . . .

So, mortified she’d been about being accused, she just doubled over in guffaws, the tears streaming down her face. No one would believe her when she tried to explain she didn’t smoke.

First time for everything had been their response to that. They’d called me down to the office, I’m really not sure why. They didn’t believe me either. Even when I demanded they sniff her over. Nothing cigarette smoky about her!

When her mom and dad walked into the principal’s office half an hour later, she was still carrying on. She’d had fits of the giggles for three days after they’d suspended her. It all got sorted out—eventually.

I couldn’t imagine that it’d be any prettier if she broke up like that tonight!

But I couldn’t help myself. The snide remarks just burst out without asking my permission.

“If that boy’d been my kid,” boomed Aunt Willa, Dad’s oldest sister and Empress of The Club, “I’d’ve curbed his wild ways! He’d be alive now!”

“Yes, chaining him to the cellar walls until he was sixty-five would keep him safe!”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“No, no! If you kill me, you’ll only start them on the theory that you did it so Irvy could be yours at last! Shame on you but—perfectly understandable!”

She sucked in a gasp not quite choking back the giggle, clasped her hand to her mouth, and turned to inspect the huge bouquet of peach roses right beside her. Noticing some of my uncles and one pair of our grandparents watching us, I swung around too, threw my arm around her.