He stared after her.
There was something not quite right about the way she walked, or the way she held herself. Too rigid. Too straight and proud.
“Come on then!”
Her voice worsened his headache. Shrill and clear as a bell. She couldn’t pronounce the letter ‘r’ without sounding like a Bengal tiger. Her eyes glazed over him again and she called. Again. “Hurry up! We haven’t got all day!”
Shifting forward, he reached around for his boots and pulled them on each foot, slowly tying up the laces to buy more time. Maybe if they were late enough, he could avoid going whatsoever. His hand slipped and the knot fell apart-much to his convenience-so he reached down to do it again.
The voice grew heavily impatient, “You need to move it; you don’t want to be late, do you?” A short huff of irritation hurried him along and he left the boots on loosely.
The car ride was quiet. The driver whistled to himself as he swerved down the road. No-one spoke and you could hear nothing but the gentle purr of the engine cruising along the highway; the soft crushing of rock and gravel under the tires accompanied by the harsh whistle of wind as the car increased in speed.
It was a beautiful day, he thought. The Sun bright in the sky, warming everything it touched and inviting the rest of the world out to the fresh air. He could see the trees glowing with new light, their leaves and branches blooming with tiny creatures that many men never took the time to notice.
“You’re quiet.”
“Is that a statement, or a question?” He looked around to see her vivacious blue eyes sparkling at him.
“You’re not nervous are you? I mean, this isn’t really all that important; just a ceremony after all.”
“It is important. I think we don’t understand just how important it is.” He sighed, but kept his gaze fixed on her and noticed that she was wearing the string of pearls he had given her as a child. Blinking in surprise and turning away, he spoke quietly, “I don’t remember many of my birthdays. How about you?”
She didn’t look up from her magazine, “You tend not to remember things that you didn’t care about. Why do you ask?”
“I like your necklace.”
“Don’t worry, I know you gave it to me on my 23rd.” She smiled in encouragement and winked at him. Turning the page, she fell silent as he didn’t reply.
The car stopped abruptly. As soon as the doors were open, Mother Nature itself seemed to diminish in all her glory and splendor. The trees were wild and out of control, the sky black with foreboding clouds and the air chilling those who breathed to the bones. Even she gripped her coat closer around her black dress, shielding from the frost.
It couldn’t have been more appropriate.
It was a slow ceremony. His eyes stayed alert and open throughout the whole thing, but inside he was wishing that time would speed up. He was wishing that this complicated and intricate pattern of words and rituals would straighten, flatten out to become something everyone could understand.
He watched carefully as the box was lowered into the ground. A box was all he could call it, after all, it served the same purpose, just with slightly different contents. The red velvet was laid across it while the words flowed from the other man’s mouth in a rehearsed harmony. And then finally, the parting words that would grant him safe passage to the next world were spoken with reverence.
Solemnly, the crowd dissolved into several smaller groups; the family was taken aside by the closest friends and relatives to a separate party and everyone else, colleagues, fellow gym club members or even soccer parents that were never really properly acquainted with. Everyone else dispersed back to their homes.
He stayed for a while, waiting while his friend spoke to the management about some other matter she had decided to conceal from him. Marie had always kept the least important things in her life close to the chest and divulged the rest to whoever she could find to listen.
Staring for a while at the headstone, he found himself searching for the wave of sadness that should’ve knocked his knees out from underneath him as soon as he had heard the news. But he found nothing. No sadness, despair, regret. The inscription was, in his opinion, ridiculously simplified. For this man, saying something along the lines of ‘You were loved’ would have been an understatement for everyone who knew him.
His eyes pierced through the marble slab one last time before he turned away, fearing that if he looked too hard, he would see his friend’s face through the dirt and mud.
Marie walked up to him slowly, assessing him with her eyes. “Are you going to cry?”
He shook his head. She nodded and embraced him silently, thinking that maybe it would take some time for him to fully believe what had happened. He, on the other hand, spun her around and grasped her arm, walking her slowly back to the car.
“I’ll drive you home.” He offered and she accepted.
This time the car ride wasn’t as serious. They talked a little bit, but as the subjects droned on disinterestedly, they gradually and silently fell into their own thoughts and repressions. They got to her house and he walked her to the door.
As she was about to turn away, he bent over and picked up one of the pearls that had slipped from the necklace and pushed it into her hand.
“What makes you think I need it? I have plenty.” She teased, gesturing to her neck.
“You remembered who gave it to you.”
A smile began to creep across her lips. “So?”
“So it must have mattered.”
And with that smile he turned and walked back to his car.
