Under Lock and Key

41: Peace Treaty

Chapter 41: Peace Treaty

Helen Pomroy, June 30th, 1950, Crescent City

2:00 pm

"I'm not happy."

"No one is, darling."

"Who could be happy at a party following a funeral? Why do people have parties after funerals? Mr. Clarke is dead. His family doesn't want to be at a party."

"Well..." My Miri looks around the lawn, where normally we hold our annual Fourth of July picnic.  A picnic my mother already canceled. "It's not a party, exactly. It's a chance for people to talk about Mr. Clarke, to remember him, but also... also to strengthen ties as a community. To remind everyone we are here to help each other through life's happy and sad moments."

"Mmmmm...." I glance over at my house father's business partners. "They didn't even really know Lee's dad, and they weren't overly kind when they spoke to him and about him when he was alive. They aren't part of our community. So why are they at Mr. Clarke's funeral reception?"

We can hear them from here, although we're standing a bit aways. I normally am not that interested in the activities of people around me, I'd far rather be in a quiet spot. Hard to study the natural world, with people always jabbering on. But this is very different.

I've never known anyone to die before. Both my grandparents died before I was old enough to remember them. Maybe I have a vague memory of Lee's grandmother, before she died, but that barely counts. I was so little, maybe only five.

I've seen death before, so many times, when I'm studying. Bugs, plants, small animals. It's a cycle, the seasons, too. Fall and Winter bring about an end to many living things. Day and night. Death and rebirth. I've always found it interesting, in the same way I enjoy trying to draw the pattern of a dragonfly's wing, or counting the strands of a particularly intricate spider web.

But not today. Because I knew him. Mr. Clarke. He was never mean to me. Never once. He didn't talk to me maybe more than a handful of times, but I think that might be because he knew I had a reputation for being shy. I'm not really shy, more...reserved? Disinterested? I don't think he wanted to bother me. Which honestly, was an act of kindness, I know.

I saw the way he was with his daughters, smiling at them and carrying them when they were little. I saw the way he treated Lee and Michael, giving them advice, having high expectations, never talking down to them. I saw the way he treated his wife, kissing her cheek or holding her hand. I saw the way he treated my house father. Passionate. Like Edward was something he had to hold tight to, or it would slip away. But... also, a secret. For him and him alone. Still, someone he cared for deeply.

I saw him.

But now... now I won't see him.

Ever again. Or my ... my... my house father.

Oh.

I really hadn't ...

I really hadn't...thought...of it... that ....way.

Oh.

"I'm definitely not happy," I say to Miri, and she takes my hand and squeezes it hard while I lay my head on her shoulder. It's easier for girls. To act cuddly, like this. Poor Lee and Kelly and my brother, and Miles and Johnny. And Mr. Clarke and my .. my...house father. For boys, it's not that easy. People would be upset, if they held each other, like Miri and I can. Even at a funeral party.

"Look, I've seen the documents. I know it's ... I'm not contesting anything. I'm just...apprehensive. Richard... is he really ready to ... to run... this company? Edward said not a word about when he's coming back. Are we really to leave everything in the hands of a... twenty year old... .child?" Mr. Phillips sounds more angry than sad.