It
was a testament to the deceased that so many people came to the funeral. The whole town had turned out and Rachael
wondered if they had enough food at home to feed everyone when they came back
to gossip and gorge themselves. A small
part of her realized that most of the people were truly sad to see him go and
would bring their own contributions to the gathering but she was feeling
uncharitable. All she could think of was that grandda was dead and that
grandmother’s heart was breaking. So was her own.
Her
eyes felt dry and tight but she looked up across the landscape to the
horizon. They wouldn’t see her
mourn. She would do that later, in
private. If she dissolved into tears now
she was afraid she might never recover and she couldn’t let everyone see her
like that. Wouldn’t. They had a reputation to maintain. So she let her anger overcome her misery and
glared at someone who had giggled a little too loudly.
Sam
shifted next to her and she could feel her mother’s arm go around him. Mother gave him a squeeze then her hand found
the crook of Rachael’s elbow and latched on as if the connection would give her
comfort. It didn’t. Rachael still felt miserable and she wanted to
shake her mother’s hand off but knew that wouldn’t be seemly. It wasn’t long before the minister finished
reading and closed the bible and her mother’s burning grasp was gone leaving
her feeling even more cold and empty.
Her
family shifted, Little (brother) held up the bucket he had carefully carted
from the farm. Da had come in with the
bucket before they had left and glanced at grandmother a little
pleadingly. “He would want some soil
from the farm.” Grannie had nearly broken
down then. It was only a supreme effort
of will that she had blinked back the tears and stopped the shuddering. She even managed a thank you and a twisted
sort of smile that had made Rachael’s heart jump into her throat and try to
choke her.
Each
family member took a handful of the soil from their farm until only Rachael was
left. The soil was cold and she almost
gasped. She hadn’t been expecting
that. Still her fingers curled around it
and she lifted her hand out, dirt slipping from between her fingers. Grannie stepped forward, not looking at
anything but the hole at her feet. The soil trickled from her fingers then
turning, she broke through the circle and walked away, head high.
Rachael
heard some gasps and a few murmured whispers. “Shocking.” She heard one person say and her cheeks
burned. She wished she knew who it was,
they would find out what shocking was if she had anything to say about it. Her father sighed and looked at the crowd
pleading for their understanding. He
dropped his handful quickly then followed Grannie out of the graveyard. Mother marshaled the boys, letting them drop
their handfuls together then poured her own in.
“We’ll miss you,” she whispered then taking Sam by the arm followed
father. Rachael was the only one
left.
Deliberately
she stepped forward to the edge of the grave and raised her arm out in front of
her, but instead of opening her hand to let the soil fall she looked at the
crowd. She met the eyes of each
person. Finally when each of them had
looked away from her gaze she opened her hand and let the contents fall. She had held it so tight it didn’t trickle
with a pitter patter like her brother’s had, but fell in a chunk with a thunk
that made her flush. Sorry granda she
thought, though she couldn’t look down at him.
She didn’t want to see the dirt on the pine coffin Da had made him.
Abruptly she turned to follow her family.
She felt the eyes of the villagers on her back and she kept her head
high as she marched to their wagon.
