A funeral

“Arrrrrrr!” my cousin, Gerald, shouted, enthusiastically, raising up the celery sticks and pretending that they were swords. In defense, I took a piece of olive to act as my shield. My cousins, Gerald and Zachariah, my sister, Anabel, and I were playing a game of pretend and Gerald was the pirate. They had promised that during the next round, I can be the pirate. Just as it was my turn to put on the pirate hat and eye patch, my grandpa came into the kitchen and beckoned us to go to the living room.


“But... But... It's my turn to be the pirate now!” I whined in protest and refused to go to the living room.


“Come. Now!” There was a note of finality in his voice. I have never heard grandpa use that tone before. He was always kind and gentle to us. Afraid, I started to move to the living room warily.


Two policemen stood in the doorway. I watched them in awe - there was not even a ceased on their crisp uniform. Aunt Beth was crying, and Uncle James had his hands on her shoulder, comforting her. All morning we had been told to stop touching the Thanksgiving dinner or we would be punished. Who would have expected to go to jail because of those celery sticks!


Grandpa then pulled Anabel and me onto his lap and hugged us close. “Your Daddy and Mommy were on their way to fetch Uncle Williams but a truck hit their car.” He started crying and I could not make up the rest of his words except that my parents were in heaven with God. Anabel broke out into loud, uncontrollable sobs which escalated into wails. I just stared blankly at Grandpa and blink continuously. Where is heaven? Are my Daddy and Mommy having fun right now? Does heaven has treasures just like the pirates in the olden days? I still did not understand why were they crying. I wished that grandpa would let me down though – his breath and his clothes reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke.


Later in the day, Anabel and I went home with Aunt Beth. My stomach felt empty and it was hurting. I wondered if anyone heard the tiger noises coming from my stomach. But everyone was crying so I did not dare to say that I was starving.


The next morning, I had expected everyone to feel better. Instead, they walked around the house expressionless, just like the walking dead. Their eyes were puffy and their noses were red. We were all made to dress in black and white as we were going to a place called “the cemetery”. Aunt Beth wore a black hat with a big black feather. As she put on her bright red lipstick, I stifled a laughter – she look just like the clowns from my circus colouring book! When Aunt Beth started driving us to the cemetery, I was puzzled. Are Daddy and Mommy still at heaven? Why is Daddy not driving today? I wanted to know what happened, but it seems that no one was in the mood to answer my question. When we reached the cemetery, Grandpa gave Anabel and me each two yellow flowers. He said we were supposed to give it to Daddy and Mommy and he pointed to two long, wooden boxes, called the coffins, in front. Yellow was not my favourite colour – it was Mommy's. I wished they had gotten pink flowers instead, then maybe Mommy would allow me to keep it.


I peered into the first coffin, Mommy laid there. She wearing her favourite blue chiffon dress, with a peaceful look on her face. Her cheeks were rosy, like how she always looked like in photos. A white satin blanket covered her feet. I placed a flower on her and moved on to the next coffin. Daddy's hair was gelled up like always but his face looked so white, as if he had make-up on too. Folded newspaper were hidden inside his trousers legs.


In the afternoon, we were made to kneel down and pray together with the pastors for a long, long time. The sun was so hot that there was a stinging sensation on my skin. Beads of perspiration formed on my forehead and they glistened under the glare of the sun. The back of my blouse was soaked and it clung onto my back. My knees were sore and I was feeling restless so I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. Aunt Beth saw what I was doing so she touched my shoulders and whispered, “Amelia, stop that rocking. Kneel down please.” I scowled at her. Why are all the adults so moody after the policemen visited us?


After the prayers, Aunt Beth went over to Daddy's coffin and kissed him. She then lifted me to do the same. I touched his cheeks – it was stiffed and cold, so I kissed his forehead instead. We moved to Mommy. Aunt Beth lifted me again. I kissed Mommy and stood on a stool nearby. I moved down and lifted up the white satin that was covering Mommy's feet. She was wearing black shoes underneath. I moved back towards her head, touching her as I went. Her hair was soft and wavy like always, but her lips, although blood red with lipstick as usual, were not soft. Overcame by my curiousity, I pressed on her mouth. It was tight so I pushed my fingers into her mouth. I saw and felt cotton. Aunt Beth was horrified at what I had just done and pulled me away quickly.


Everyone was then gestured to move away from the coffins. Two men in a black suits pulled down the backs of the coffins. I scanned the sea of faces. Everyone was either praying or crying. Gerald, Zachariah and Anabel were all bawling. Aunt Beth was weeping so much her flora designed handkerchief was soaked. Her tears flowed freely down her cheeks, her neck and onto her dress. Grandpa was blowing his nose and sniffling. His face was etched with sorrow. Even Uncle James, who is usually cool, had his face tear-stained. I tried to comfort him, “Mommy and Daddy are in heaven where there are lots of pirates treasure now. Why are all of you so sad? They must be enjoying themselves now!” He merely shook his head, wiped away a tear with the back of his hand and forced a faint smile.


When the two men with ropes lowered the coffins into the graves, Aunt Beth fainted. Fortunately, there were people nearby to catch her. One of the pastors who was leading the prayer came over and gave Anabel and me each a white flower. Mine was turning brown and the petals were falling. I gave mine to Grandpa instead so that I could wipe my perspiration off with my free hands. Anabel and I were then led to a big, black car. We sat on two little pull-down seats behind Uncle James as he drove us home with him. On the way home, I let my mind wandered again. Where exactly is this heaven that those adults speak of? When will Mommy be back? I miss her bedtime stories.