Black Cat Weekly #5

THE PASSING OF BIG MAMA MAYHALL, by Bobbi A. Chukran-3

Dudley Cunningham welcomed the two women into the office. He was a tall, thin man dressed in black. Elsie wondered if funeral directors ever wore anything besides black. He smiled at Elsie and reached out to take her hand. It was cold as ice, and Elsie quickly pulled away. She stood off to the side, pretending to look at a painting on the wall while Aunt Ruby told him what they needed.

“Now don’t you worry about a thang,” he said. “I’ll get you fixed up right. Your mama had quite a bit of insurance on herself, for her burial, Elsie.”

“Yes, that’s what Aunt Ruby told me. I hadn’t known that.” Elsie remembered the plain pine box that her mother had chosen for her father.

“Yes, ma’am, she did. A burial policy—the sky’s the limit, don’t you see. So we can do her up right and give her a funeral you can be proud of.”

He took a book out of his desk drawer that said “Eternal Rest Album” on the front, and flipped the pages. It was filled with pictures of coffins, all colors and models. He stabbed the page with a long pointed finger and Elsie shuddered.

“What do you ladies think about this fine rosewood model we have here? Gold handles, lined with white silk satin—the works! Top of the line, and I know Big Mama would love it. She always was a woman of fine taste and distinction.”

Aunt Ruby quickly pointed out another one, a much simpler, middle-priced model. “We’ll take this one right here. It’ll do us fine,” she said, nodding her head.

Dudley Cunningham frowned for only a second. “Well, if you’re sure. Of course, it doesn’t make quite the same statement as the other one.” With one look at Ruby’s face, he quickly agreed that everything would be ready for the visitation that night.

Ruby stood, shook Mr. Cunningham’s hand, and pulled Elsie along with her. When they reached the outside steps, she mumbled something about vultures and crooks. “Let’s get out of here, Elsie. We still need to choose something for Big Mama to wear.”

* * * *

They drove back home and Aunt Ruby made chicken salad sandwiches and iced tea. Elsie wasn’t very hungry, but picked at the food.

After they’d washed up, they trudged upstairs to Big Mama’s bedroom. “Let’s see; she’ll need a nice dress, under things, stockings and shoes,” Aunt Ruby said, pulling an arm-full of clothes from the closet. “Go look in her jewelry box for some nice ear-screws, maybe a necklace. “

“But, I’m not allowed…” she started then glanced around, as if Big Mama was watching her. She went to the bureau and dug down under the bed sheets and found the old wooden box where she knew her mama kept her jewelry. Elsie had never been allowed to touch any of her mama’s things except when replacing the clean laundry. She still remembered how her legs stung after Big Mama had slapped at her with the fly swatter after finding her looking through the bureau drawer where she kept her Sunday gloves.

Elsie slowly opened the box. She picked up a pair of screw-back earrings that had bright red stones in them. She couldn’t ever remember her mama wearing them. Aunt Ruby peered over her shoulder. “Those are your mama’s garnets,” she explained. “Your daddy gave them to her on the day they got married. Those are real stones. I think you should keep them for yourself, honey. As a remembrance,” she added.

Elsie stared at the earrings, wondering whether she’d ever have a chance to wear them. She replaced them in the box and took out a pearl necklace. There was also a pair of pearl earrings. “Those will do fine, just fine,” Aunt Ruby said with a smile. “I gave those to her for her high school graduation.”

“I didn’t realize she had such nice things,” Elsie admitted. “I’ve never seen most of these.”

“Your mama always had a lot of nice things,” Ruby said wistfully, holding a blue satin dress up in front of her. “Too bad these aren’t my size. Of course, I’d have to take them in quite a bit.”

Elsie smiled, then felt guilty for it. It was hard to believe that Aunt Ruby and Big Mama were sisters. Ruby had always had a strange sense of humor that Elsie secretly admired. Big Mama had no sense of humor and frequently criticized Ruby for making some smart remark or other.

“Would you just look at this dress!” Ruby pulled out a brown dress made of some kind of shimmery material. It had rhinestone buttons down the front, and Elsie thought they looked like diamonds. “I wonder where she got this? It looks brand new!” Her aunt nodded her head. “Let’s use this one; she always looked good in brown, and the pearls will look nice with it.”

Elsie slowly reached out, fingering the fabric. She thought about her meager wardrobe and threadbare underthings, fingering the collar of her thin cotton dress.

Ruby watched her for a moment. “Maybe we can go through her things together, see if you like any of them. I can cut them down and make them over to fit you.”

Elsie wondered again where she’d ever wear such things, but just smiled and nodded. She picked up a brown fur hat, shaped like a short, round box and gently stroked it. She’d never seen it, either. “Don’t forget her hat. She never went anywhere without a hat.”

Ruby smiled. “You’re right about that. She’d never forgive us if we buried her without a proper hat.”

They carefully placed the clothes in a brown paper bag and Aunt Ruby promised she’d drop them off at the funeral parlor on her way home. She told Elsie to get some rest and promised to come back later.

* * * *

Elsie tried to rest, but was interrupted when the florist showed up at the house with a carload of floral arrangements the ladies from the church and other people from around town had sent.

“Poor, poor Elsie!” she clucked. “I was so sorry to hear about Big Mama’s passin’ away. We will miss her terribly.”

Elsie was relieved to see her aunt pull up behind the florist.

“I expect you’ll miss her business, too,” sniffed Aunt Ruby as she walked into the kitchen.

The florist blushed. “Well, yes, of course we’ll miss her--she was a good customer.”

Elsie frowned. “She was?” Odd, she knew her mother had no love for flowers. She couldn’t imagine her spending money at the florist.

“Your mama sent roses to the hospital every week, didn’t you know that? We sure are gonna miss her.”

Elsie thought about her little hidden garden out back and the flowers she struggled to grow in the shade of the old shed. She’d had to plead for the money to buy a few packets of seed and Big Mama had even grumbled about that.

The florist finally left and Aunt Ruby flopped down on the sofa. “I’m not sure I can get back up,” she said, and Elsie laughed. Her aunt smiled. “It’s good to hear you laugh, honey. I don’t hear it nearly enough around here. Now I’ll pick you up at five to carry you to the funeral parlor. There shouldn’t be nearly as many folks at the visitation as were here today. At least, I hope not,” Aunt Ruby said, blowing out a breath. “I declare, they mean well, but I’d just as well do without half of them.”

Elsie had to agree with her aunt.

* * * *

When Ruby stopped by to pick Elsie up later that afternoon, she frowned at the dress she’d chosen to wear. “Is that your best one, honey?” she asked. The dress was clean and well-pressed, but obviously faded and Ruby knew Elsie had had it for years.

Elsie’s face turned red and she shook her head, ashamed. “I’m saving my best one, the black one, for the funeral. This is really all I have other than it.”

Ruby pursed her lips. “Oh well, never you mind that. Nobody cares what we wear anyway. If anybody says a peep, I’ll give ’em a piece of my mind! Let’s go and get this over with.”

* * * *

By the time Elsie and Ruby walked into the funeral home, a few mourners had gathered and were standing around the coffin, admiring Dudley Cunningham’s handiwork and saying how natural Big Mama looked. He hovered off to the side, quietly greeting visitors. Elsie thought he looked like one of those raucous black crows that Uncle Albert tried to keep out of the corn.

Elsie stood off to the side of the room, with her back to the coffin. Every now and then she’d glance in that direction, but the crowd blocked her view. Finally, Aunt Ruby pushed them all out of the way and forced her to walk up closer. Elsie looked everywhere else but at Big Mama’s face.

“This is your last chance, honey,” Aunt Ruby said.

When she did finally look at her mama, Elsie wondered why she had been so frightened. It didn’t look like Big Mama at all. It looked like somebody had carved a giant doll out of soap, or candle wax, and put Big Mama’s dress and hat on it. She stared, and finally whispered “Goodbye, mama. I did the best I could.” But she knew her best had never been good enough for Big Mama.

Elsie sobbed, and Ruby gently turned her away. “I think we’ve been here long enough,” she said, frowning at several women who were gossiping and staring at Elsie. “Come on, time to go home.”

* * * *

She walked Elsie to the door and asked if she wanted them to come in. Elsie said no, she’d be fine. Ruby looked relieved.

“I know how tired you are, Aunt Ruby, and I’m so grateful to you for being here with me.” She fiercely hugged her aunt. “But I still don’t know what I’ll do without my mama.”

“You’ll be fine, honey. You are stronger than you think. I’ll be back early in the morning. Remember, all the kin will be back for supper after the burial. So get plenty of rest while you can.”

Elsie finally fell into an exhausted, fitful sleep and had snatches of dreams where Big Mama chased her around the kitchen with the fly swatter. She woke several times, her thin cotton gown soaked with perspiration and her head ached.

* * * *

The next morning, Elsie was awakened by a clap of thunder that shook the house. She wondered why it was so quiet. Then it all came back to her with sickening reality. It was the day of Big Mama’s funeral.

Elsie jumped out of bed, washed her face, put on the old black dress with the jet buttons. The dress had faded to a dark, dingy grey. She hesitated a moment, then went to her mother’s jewelry box and took out a little rhinestone pin that Big Mama always worn to church on Sundays. She guiltily pinned it to her shoulder and admired herself in the mirror. She pulled a comb through her hair, pinned it back with a few hairpins and walked downstairs.

She put on a pot of coffee, hesitated, then swallowed two of her nerve pills from the bottle on the windowsill. She sat at the table marveling at the silence.

Ruby showed up soon thereafter with freshly-baked biscuits. She scrambled some eggs, sliced some ham and fixed a plate for Elsie. She was barely able to get down a few bites before her stomach clenched.

“We’d best be going, don’t want to be late,” Ruby said.

They drove by Ruby’s farm, picked up Uncle Albert and drove to the cemetery. By then, the rain was coming down in torrents and the thunder boomed.