CHAPTER 23
They laid Helen Mayfield to rest under sunny skies at Cypress Hills Memorial Park in Colma, a cemetery town south of San Francisco populated mostly by corpses and car dealers. A simple casket rested above a freshly dug grave, next to a mound of dirt covered with Astroturf.
Tana and Powell stood off to one side as a small, somber crowd composed mostly of older women huddled with their heads bowed and listened to the minister preach over the hum of nearby freeway traffic about eternal life. Was there such a thing, Tana wondered. Then again, maybe he was right. Maybe life did go on forever. They were burying Helen’s body, but as she and Powell knew firsthand, the rest of her was very much alive.
The minster finished his homily and then the service was over. The crowd began to di
