Rain falls. The sky is an eerie gray. There is no sunlight. Pastor McCray’s deep baritone drones on to the gloomy onlookers. Ezra shifts in his seat uncomfortably. He always hated foldable chairs. His arm was getting tired from holding his black umbrella, but he wouldn’t dare to drop it. Then he would get sick. If he got sick, then he would look how he felt: miserable. He looks at the gleaming Cherry wood casket in front of him, within it the only person he ever loved: his father. He would like to say that he loves his mother. And that she’s all he has now. But he doesn’t. And she isn’t. She died before he even knew how to say “mama”. She was murdered when someone tried to rob our house. Ezra was there, too, but he guessed they didn’t care to kill him. They just left him alone. And now he’s alone again. Forever.
A silent tear drops from the corner of his eye.
Dad.
He wasn’t around much, his father. He was always busy. He worked at a factory on the edge of town. Gore Industries. Whatever they were making in the factory day in and day out, it was important. That much Ezra knew. Even when his father was with Ezra, he wasn’t with Ezra. His mind was always miles away from the dinner table. Now he was miles away. His spirit anyway. Ezra would miss him.
Another tear dropped from the same eye, followed by a sob that escaped his lips. He tried to stop another sob from erupting, but it was just too much. The tears ran free now. Ezra wiped his face in response, but stopped when he felt an endearing rub on his back. He turned to see a short man wearing a pair of deep black sunglasses. There was no sun.
“It’s alright, Ezra. It’s alright.” He cooed. His hair was thinning on the sides and completely gone on the top. He also had a few wrinkles and sunspots on his face. He didn’t look familiar. How did he know Ezra’s name?
Ezra looked around at the funeral’s attendants. All of them seemed so somber, yet Ezra knew none of them. Maybe they worked with his father. Come to think of it, Ezra knew none of his father’s co-workers. But surely the beautiful and busty woman in the back couldn’t work at a factory. He couldn’t imagine the elderly woman in the wheelchair working at a factory either.
What is this?
“And now we’ll have a few words from Finland’s very own son, Ezra Mujiel.” Pastor McCray interrupted Ezra’s thoughts. The group begins to clap rapturously as Ezra stands and posts in front of the casket.
Ezra clears his throat in nervous haste. He sighs deep, “My father was a mysterious man. I’m his son and I can honestly say that I don’t know much about him. But what I do know is that he was a good man. And that I loved him. And that he loved me. And my mother.
Ezra turns to face his father’s closed casket. “Dad, I’ll miss you. Tell Mom I said hi.”
The audience clapped respectfully in response.
………….
After the funeral was over, Ezra walks to his Toyota Prius to go home, when he’s stopped by the same man who rubbed his back earlier. He still had on those sunglasses. In the rain.
“Ezra, your dad was the best man that ever lived. A true king. The old bastard said he would live forever. Now I have to deal with these shitheads alone.”
Ezra was uncomfortable. “Yes, well, thank you.” Ezra went to leave, but he stopped him again.
“My name is Gore.”
Ezra was puzzled. “My father worked for you?”
Gore laughed dryly. “I worked for your father.”
