The Rising - Ennead 2

Scene 14.4 - Two Funerals and a Wedding

Two nights pass too soon. It's safer here at the Manor, away from the madness and Magi. I should call Carlos... maybe, or not. I don't care. He's probably back in Virginia or whatever. Like I said. I'm safe - there's no people looking at me as if my dog just died. Sorrow is ten times easier without pity.

Like I said. Time has passed too soon. I'm not ready for today. I'm not ready to wear a dismal dress and cry till my mascara runs. Who made the rule that funerals are supposed to be a part of the grieving process?

Is it a good thing that Grandpa totally ignores how I feel? His sudden knock makes me jump - his version of polite - before he strides in. A draft bursts in behind him, that's always been a problem with the old manor, the air acts in weird ways.

"You're not ready?" He asks, as if he's wondering why I'm not armed and ready for a surprise incursion. (Speaking of which, I'm never getting caught without a mythril vest ever again!)

I only sigh in response and turn my gaze to the grounds. I used to the think the duck pond was a lake - cute right? Its surface is dark and still, devoid of ducks, hiding all its surprises beneath the surface.

Granada walks right past my angst and places himself in my line of sight.

"Believe me dear, it's not over. You have to start before you end."

It's rude to tell a two-time widower that he has no idea what he's saying. Instead I hold my opinion to my chest. Not wanting to hear his opinion doesn't make it false.

"I'll be ready in thirty," I finally sigh. "Can I get a little privacy?"

"I'll give you twenty." he concedes as he ambles out and then shuts the door with a firm click.

I'll concede that the old man has taste. He asked some old friend or whatever to deliver something appropriate. Appropriate turned out to be a dark, mid-length fairy dress. I thought it was black till I took a closer look this morning. Old people can be so hung up with tradition; it's actually our 'family mourning colour' - very very very dark green.

...

The tiny country chapel follows tradition. Its tiny, grey, stone steeple pierces an overcast sky that attempts to strangle the last rays of summer.

Like a proper lady I have to wait for grandpa to grunt his way out of the drivers seat of his vintage aston to come get the door. No. I know chivalry is... whatever, I just want to get through the day.

Grandpa holds my arm as we walk up to the stairs. A few familiar figures mill around the steps as they wait wait for the service to begin. Time becomes surreal as I approach the steps; every moment is fragile and distant.

The first person I lock gazes with - Aunt Priya. Her lovely silky hair is shot through with much more grey than when we last met. She hugs me without saying a word. Next is Rajiv, then Keaton and then Avril... and then I lose count.

I do try my best to stay at least a yard away from Janus. Tall and dashing, he's talking to grandpa, living the lie of his resurrection. His back is turned, thank goodness, but grandpa does see me and beckon. I'm literally saved by the bell when it signals the start of the funeral service.

I daydream my way through most of it. People say their bits and are sensitive enough to not expect me to say anything. Me? I'm mostly focused on drowning out the presence of a killer magus sitting two pews back.

I slip out of my reverie when a familiar voice begins to speak. I have to blink my eyes before I cant tell it's him - Carlos.

He's clean, somber and shaven, hair as slick as Freddy Astaire and a coal black suit jacket that (finally) hasn't been pulled up to his elbows. It's almost like he's a different person, except he isn't. Everyone knows who he is, news spreads fast on the Network.