b a b y s i t t i n g t h e p r e s i d e n t 's d a u g h t e r

Chapter 15: To Be Or Not To Be

The following Sunday morning at breakfast, I received the shocking news from my uncle; Mr. Henderson had passed away. Uncle Winston drove out to the parlor for funeral arrangements, leaving me in tears as I cried on the highest steps at the stairs, burying my head in my hands while Amanda consoled me.

"How could this happen?" I asked my uncle when he returned from making the necessary arrangements, my voice croaking as I spoke because of the tears. I had summoned enough courage to stop crying and speak normally.

He shrugged; also choked up, "Could be the stroke, could be his time to go back to Emaline."

I bit my lip; maybe it was a good thing after all. We made the arrangements for delicate white flowers to surround the dark brown coffin; and have the funeral the next day in the large cemetery just on the other side of town; and he would be placed peacefully next to Emaline. An ad would be placed in the local newspapers and the family members notified.

But this was not as easy as we had expected it to be when we found out from the lawyers that Mr. Henderson had died with relatives that refused to acknowledge him now that he was old and grey in age. They refused to show up for the funeral on Monday as they were far from Everton, and requested the will be dealt with by my uncle and I instead; they really did not expect much from him. The lawyer refused, but when he found there was nothing much in Mr. Henderson's possession, he gave in. It was all very painful to hear; that his own family wanted nothing to do with him.

The possessions that Uncle Winston could keep were his tattered old clothes, some fine silverware and crockery and the old books he used to own. Of course the possessions were supposed to be split amongst the two of us, but we found it hard to separate them all in monetary value and my uncle ended up keeping the whole lot, allowing me to choose whatever I wanted.

I chose to have his old radio player, a little brown suitcase, and a well worn book that had the words, 'Poems and other Short Collections' written across it. I didn't know why I chose to have the book as well, not that I would be reading it anyway. But it was something I thought I should have, a remembrance of Mr. Henderson and his love for reading.

The book was pretty small and compact, thin and easily slipped into a pocket. He seemed to read this book often, judging by the creases and the yellow fading stain on every page. One thing was clear though, he took good care of the book, not a single tear.

When the time came on Monday morning, the library was closed and I was tasked with staying with Amanda until Uncle Winston returned from hosting the funeral and it would be my turn to join the funeral as he stayed behind with Amanda. Many from Everton came as soon as they heard the news; clad in black suits, black dresses and black hats, though Remy was nowhere to be seen. I sat on the white wooden seats, listening as the minister gave the short eulogy. As the time came for Mr. Henderson to be buried, we all cried and I immediately left so my uncle could take care of the final arrangements.

The walk home was painful, and I couldn't hold my tears for long before I finally reached the library and remained in a corner as my uncle took leave. Poor Mr. Henderson. He would never waltz into his happy place. No more reading aloud to the spirit of Emaline and probably that of Horatia. Now he was going home.

I guess you could say I wasn't the same after that, the very thought of his passing scared me. And I needed loads of ice cream to calm my nerves. The following week, as I settled in to another tub of vanilla, still upset even after a week had gone by, Remy walked in.

He didn't have to say a word; just the look on his face told me what he wanted to say. But instead of the usual "I'm sorry to hear about what happened", he merely looked at the tub I was holding and shook his head.