Ven: Part 2

Ch. 12 Best laid to rest

We all watch as their bodies are gently lowered in their coffins.

"The day has no business being so bright today," a tall man says in my ear.

I nod absently, my eyes not leaving the coffins.

"What were their names?" He asks.

"Greg and..." I pause.

I don't remember.

They told me.

I lived with them.

I don't remember.

"... his family..." I finish weakly.

"Greg, Madeline, and Margaret Burns. He stood against the World government and tried to make them leave us alone. They hanged him and his family to set an example. I wonder," his breath is hot on my neck, "what example are you going to set? Life for a life? Mercy? Are you a push over? What will you do, Vendolyn Dictum?"

The words I said to Greg that day came back to me.

"Better." I say as the coffins disappear from sight.

"Well, on behalf of everyone here, I sure hope so." I feel him pull away.

A woman steps forward and says a few words, appeals to one of the gods or something.

It doesn't matter.

I couldn't even remember their names.

Who else's name don't I remember?

What was that blue haired girls name?

What are any of the Turncoats names?

What's the kid with the shadow's name?

What if after the war I'm all that's left to remember them and I don't?

Everyone is leaving, a great surge of scrawny, underfed bodies pass me by. I stand and stare as a group of people struggle to pile the dirt back into the hole. I stare at their weak attempts in a daze.

I clap my hands to my cheeks and shake my head.

I stride over.

"Please," I say to them, "let me."

They nod warily and back away. I take up a shovel and begin shoveling dirt on to the coffins carefully, I feel like I can feel them staring at me through the wood.

"I'm sorry," I whisper as I shovel, "it wasn't my place to tell you to do better. I..."

My throat catches and tears run down my face.

I grit my teeth and throw myself into shoveling.

There are others shoveling now too. I look up and see Tasma and her friends shoveling with me, already sweating profusely in their altogether garish clothing. I hadn't noticed before, but it looks like they're all in costume.

All leather belts and artfully torn shirts and pants with varying lengths of coats tying it all together.

I stop shoveling for a moment and lean on my shovel, wiping the last of my tears from my face.

"I don't think I properly introduced myself," I say, they all stop and look up at me. "My name is Vendolyn, I prefer Ven and I'm sick of correcting people. I've been selfish and negligent thinking it was for the best, that none of it mattered so long as I kept moving and doing what I wanted. I've been dismissive, rude, and abrasive. And these people we're burying showed me real kindness and I didn't even remember their names. So, please, who are all of you?"