Do I Wanna Know

Chapter Seventeen

Tonight, I go to Cam's wake. I prepare myself for an overwhelming night. I know that he'll be there and I received the news that it'll be from 6 to 9 p.m. and that it'll be an open casket.

I wrote a letter yesterday that's meant to stay unopened, hopefully in his casket. I wish to go up to his casket and tuck it in or give it to his parents, feeling that not too much people will be there even if he was popular.

I drive up to Sifrus Funeral Home and see several people outside with suits and dresses but I'm only wearing leggings and a white dirty oversized shirt.

If there are people outside, some of those who don't even talk to him, like, ever, then it must be packed inside, I think.

I park my car and hold the envelope addressed to Cam in Heaven with God concealed and folded behind my hands. As I walk to the entrance, I hear people saying that they were absolute friends with him and that he was their best Vietnamese friend.

How can they have been friends if they probably never have talked to Cam except for some "please"s, "thank you"s and "excuse me"s? And knowing him for over 8 years, I know that he is not Vietnamese but half white and half Filipino.

It's so cruel of them telling people rumors of their past "relationship" with a dead person. Piling lies over lies and soon noticing that they reached a stream they cannot jump over and then--SPLAT! Their lies caught up to them and their social life is over.

When I open the door of the funeral home, collages of pictures of Cam run along the wall. Signs and posters saying that he will always be with us are hung up. His legit friends look at all of them, tears either running or swallowed, mostly running. Some people are just hanging around with a plate and some food on their hands.

I walk up to the slightly opened door and push the doorknob, exposing me to the contagious effect of tears. The room is packed with friends, schoolmates, family, and even teachers. Two girls block Cam's head. There's a gigantic line to see his corpse.

"Where are his parents?" I whisper to myself. Though I've never seen them, I can probably assume who they are.

It was said, by his Instagram name that his dad is white, leaving the mom to be Filipino. Also, close friends have said things about him always being alone in his house because his parents always worked late, saying that the parents may look fatigued, adding the fact that they probably have been crying a lot--

"This took us a lot of time to do," a Filipino accent reaches my ear from behind me. I turn around and see that the person that said it was a lady talking to a white lady. Assuming it's Cam's mom, I wait for the ladies to stop talking to each other until I act to give the envelope. It's not long until the Caucasian lady leaves and it's my turn to talk.

"Hi," I say. She fakes a small smile that drops down immediately. I am so much taller than her, maybe a head taller. I reach for a handshake and she takes it. "Do you happen to know where Cam's mother is?"

"I'm her. What do you need, sweetie?" I turn a little flattered about the "sweetie" part.

"First of, I am absolutely sorry for your loss, though 'sorry's won't really help the fact. Second, I would like to give you this letter for Cam, maybe tuck it in his... uh... casket," I choke on my own words, feeling terrible that I'm talking to her about this, "but I would love it if you don't read it."

"Oh yeah," she says, "no we won't read it."

"Thank you. And third," I finalize,"where was the gunshot?" She furrows her eyebrows and I can see her eyes shimmer ever so slightly, watering. "If you feel uncomfortable answering, you don't need to. I'm really sorry I'm bringing this up--"