It only took them three days to put uncle Ralph in the ground. He had had the last stroke in the morning. They had the viewing the next day, and today they’d put him in the ground. Just like that and everything was done… the man’s life, the man’s dreams, the man’s history, snuffed out, buried, and doled out to the hungry vultures. Seventy-two hours.
Todd put the black rose on the coffin. He backed away, and something inside him, something that he didn’t understand, screamed and clawed and tore out its hair. It couldn’t be over, something of it all had to live on, didn’t it?
Well, didn’t it?
The looks that everyone was giving each other said no, it damn well did not, and what will happen to me when they put me in the ground? Nobody was thinking of Uncle Ralph; they were thinking about being in that box themselves. Well, screw them. Todd knew that he was in a better place. Being here was for losers.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed toward his dad’s Buick gas-guzzler. His mom looked at him and started crying again. Could she get more emotional about this? Not fucking likely. What right did she have, anyway. Uncle Ralph was Dad’s uncle. Todd’s great-uncle, if you cared. His Dad was choked up, but not like Mom. He was still in control. He wouldn’t flip out until he hit the scotch.
Todd sat in the back seat as his mom got in the front. He looked out the window as the car was started. The trees and overcast sky slid by, and Tim just couldn’t think. His head was filled with memories of Uncle Ralph. The smell of pipe smoke, the rustle of old paper, and the music that his beat-up ancient calliope made. Uncle Ralph used to play on that thing all the time. It could remind you of the circus, or give you nightmares, depending on how you played it. Uncle Ralph had known how to play it.
“Todd?” His Dad’s voice was cracked and creepy.
“Yeah, Dad?” He sounded tired, even to himself. His Mom started crying again, but at least she was quiet this time.
“Uncle Ralph left behind a will.” Oh, great. Here it comes. Family bullshit about who gets what. Feuds started by vultures. “He mentioned you in it. Your mother and I can accept things for you, but if you’re up to it, I think old Ralph would have wanted you there.”
That figured. Now he was a vulture. He would have things that others felt they deserved, when all he wanted was to have everything about this just go away. He looked at his dad, who was concentrating on the road for all he was worth. There was the Christmas-eve excitement about gifts, just poking itself into Todd’s brain, making all of this more confusing and painful.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll go.” Another day off from school. What the hell.
