The Funeral

She sat banging her foot against the empty seat in front of her.  Mutton Chops put his hand on her arm, gently. Trying to awkwardly calm what he thought was sorrow. She kicked harder.

Even though the sign outside said “Memorial Service”, she knew it was a lie.  When she tried out the real word in the hallway with some grownups, ones that didn’t know her, they didn’t tell her it was wrong.

This was a Funeral.

She had never been to one before and already she could tell she hated them.

There was a smiling picture of [THE WOMAN} on a table in the front of the room, surrounded by all sort of fake flowers.  Some of the fake ones were real, but looked like plastic, or just looked completely out of season.  Or they looked like guilt, like something that THE WOMAN would have preferred to get 6 months ago, when she could enjoy it.  Too bad she wasn’t here to see & smell them.  She’d press some, or maybe decorate the house with them.  So many beautiful flowers. 

This is how “Expensive” looks when it is trying to replace something real.  The red roses were perfect, but arrogant.  They looked like rich women asserting their right to be seen/ instead of the person that everyone was there to talk about.

At a lectern, there was some guy talking about her.  He had never met her.  In fact, he had just sat with her and Mutton Chops and D in a room 10 minutes ago, asking about THE WOMAN.  She had wanted to say everything to him, none of the grownups seemed to want to talk to her.  But he tried so hard to listen.  He looked everyone in the eyes.  Mutton chops didn’t say much.  Even DH only wanted to know how much it was all going to cost.

She started crying, denying that She was even dead.  Trying to tell everyone how she would never drown.  D kept trying to shut her up and Mutton Chops just looked uncomfortable.

Some people in front were crying, or at least doing their best to look very miserable.  She didn’t have a lot of the type of friends who would cry at times like these.

Some people in back looked miserable for other reasons.  Familiar sounds of her classroom, of whispers, but not wanting to be heard.  People looking away.  Playing with change in their pockets.  Nervous habits.  Like they wanted to get back to work (Suit), pacing in the back of the room.  Everything seemed to point to the inexplicable restlessness of adults, eager to get back to jobs they hated.  But then she saw something white fly past her leg.  Then another. Spitballs.    

She looked over her shoulder, expecting to see the stupid grin of Chucky McC, Steven O’D or Michael O’M.  Instead, it was The Suit.  He had a stupid grin on his face.  She had caught him, but there was NOTHING she could do about it.

“She was always known as a very good swimmer . . . “

Spitballs and now this jerk, trying to take that away from her.  He was about to come up with a line about how she made a mistake or how the Pond took her down forever.

“SHE IS A GOOD SWIMMER!  SHE IS!!  You guys just haven’t found her yet!”

“Honey, be quiet.  The police have done all that they could do!”

“No!  They are looking in the wrong Pond!”

That got their attention.

“She wasn’t going to swim in Walden that day.  She had a plan!  She had a secret!”

The room suddenly woke up, as if it was much happier to be at a Mystery rather than a Funeral.  

“What was her secret then?”  The Suit stood up, like a cruel villain, like a used car salesman, like a teenager, wanting to humiliate her.  Whatever she would say in front of HIM was going to be wrong, but she knew where to stop.   She also knew to pass off her one piece of truth to an adult who could explain it better.

“He knows!”  She pointed to Muttonchop.

As usual, he looked flustered.  She knew he knew her secret (the Swimmer DVD), and would be careful not to share it until he could figure out a way to prove she was still alive.  Here, his acting ability came in handy, he played the role of the dorky nerd a little better than he realized.  

“The girl is right.  She was going to swim at Sandy Pond that day.  And the police refuse to include it in their search”

The Cop started a moment.  Sandy Pond.  Also known as Flint’s Pond. The most obvious and hugest pond.  But not the one that Muttonchop had asked him about.  There was some question about Goose Pond, that was where they expected her to be.  That was the pond he and the little girl had been searching.  

Without wanting to blow their cover, they were up to something, he called out the safest thing he could think of.

“Do you have any new proof?”

(THEY all crowded in the insincere Guy’s office while he tried to figure out what to do next)