Foresight

Chapter 11

Mike was sitting in the front row of the church as the Reverend led the service. His grandfather's casket laid just before him. And staring at it only made Mike repeatedly think the same thing. Goodbye Grandpa. His Dad and his Grandma were sat either side of him and neither of them had made any attempt to conceal their tears of grief. Soon, it was Mike and his father's turn to speak. Both got up and walked over to the stand where Mike began his eulogy, every fibre of his being shaking, holding back tears. "My Grandpa was there for me my entire life, I've never lived without him and -," Mike cut off, repressing a sob, making his dad place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He composed himself and continued, the crowd of friends and family all looking at him with sympathy. "And I have no idea how I'm supposed to go on without him. But one thing he said to me, when I was just starting High School, is something that will stay with me forever in this difficult journey forward," Mike paused, casting his mind back to when his Grandfather said what he was about to recount to everyone else, wiping a tear from his eye. He remembered standing in the foyer with his backpack on and his grandpa had crouched down to talk to him since he was over six foot tall. His grandpa looked at him with a face that had seen the light of seventy plus years – he'd had the same thick neck and blue eyes as Mike – even in his old age, his eyes had been full of a relentless spark of life. And then he'd spoken. And said something Mike would never forget. "You can never go back to how it was before, things in life aren't meant to last, but you have to cherish and appreciate them whilst you have them – and I think all of us here got a chance to cherish and appreciate him while he was alive," Mike paused again, building up emphasis for his closing line. "I know for a fact that he cherished us all and I will hold that in my heart forever. Thank you,"

Mike stepped down, to let his father talk, and observed the rows of benches in front of him. The church room of the crematorium had a typical church layout: the doors were at the far end of the room, where an orange carpet led from there to a low stage, separating the two columns of benches, where he was now, a large crucifix hung from the wall behind him, and large, stained-glass windows let the light in from either side of the wall. What Mike really focussed on though, was the people on the benches. Most of them were old biddies that Mike had met from his Grandpa's frequent bingo tournaments held in the Spring and Summer time at his grandparents' house and Mike saw his aunt and uncle from his father's side in the row behind his, his Granduncle Kurtis and Grandaunt Penelope sat beside them and behind them sat his grandparents on his mother's side. Everyone Mike expected to be there, was there. Except... One person at the back of the crowd stood out to him: a handsome young man, no older than twenty, who was around 6 feet tall, had a thick neck, green eyes and dark black hair, combed back into spikes. What stood out about him was that, even though his rather distant-looking expression and absent-minded gaze made it look as though he was trying to fade into the background, he certainly did not look like he belonged at the funeral. Mike tried not to, but his found himself staring in this young man's general direction, out of suspicion – did he know him? Before he could even begin speculating, however, his father finished his eulogy and they were forced to sit back down. Mike dismissed any suspicion about this unexpected guest as he settled back down. Probably one of Grandpa's friend's kids – come to say good bye just like the rest of us.

After everyone else had spoken and the casket was lowered, all the guests retreated to a different part of the crematorium, where refreshments were being served, for the reception. Mike had sat down with his family at a rectangular table, with a cup of coffee and a sandwich from the food cart. His uncle and his father had – rather unfortunately – sat beside one another and began talking. Mike, secretly along with everyone else at the table, set a stop-clock on their watches to see how long it took them to begin arguing. Two minutes is all it took. "Look, Edward, I'm just saying that some of his stuff might fetch hefty price – I'm talking thousands here – you could probably send Mike to college with that kind of cash!" his uncle protested.

"And I'm just saying, Isaac, that now is not the time to be talking about selling our dad's old stuff, with everyone around!" his dad replied.

"And when are we going to talk about it then – hmm?" his uncle retorted "I know you, brother, you procrastinate a lot,". Mike's blood began boiling. He clenched his fist so tight that his nails began to dig into his palms.

"I do not procrastinate Isaac I am just -," Mike's dad began to say when he was cut off. Mike stood up, furious at them both.

"STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP! IT! GOD DAMNIT!" Mike yelled. The whole room turned and look at him. "This is Grandpa's funeral – can we not just say goodbye to him without you two turning it into a screaming match? Is that TOO MUCH TO ASK!" Mike shrieked at the two of them, smashing his fist down on the table so hard that he knocked somebody's wine glass off the table. The smashing sound reverberate off the walls, emphasising how silent the room had become. Mike glared at his dad and his uncle before storming out of the room and into the graveyard.

The pathway he was walking across had tombstones littered either side of it. Mike walked as far away from the crematorium before reaching a bench and sitting down. The Summer wind blew through his hair making him realise just how silent this whole place was – a quite endless barracks for the resting dead. Not a single bird could be heard in this entire place despite there being many trees dotted around the vast graveyard. Mike thought about what had just happened. He hadn't meant to yell, but those two were just the worst combination in the world – it was hard to believe that they were close in their youth as his grandma had constantly tried to make it out to be.

He considered texting Connor to see if that would cheer him up, but then he realised that Connor was at school and probably in the middle of class right now – unless he wanted to get Connor in detention for using his cell in class, it wasn't a good idea.

Mike missed his grandpa so much, he'd never felt so empty and alone in his entire life. If his grandpa were here right now, he'd probably tell him to just go back in there and make things right – he'd always said that nothing is impossible to fix, it just may be difficult to. Well he was wrong, wasn't he? Mike thought bitterly you can't fix death. Mike leant back in the bench, trying to calm down. It was just then that he suddenly felt the presence of someone else. He looked across the other side of the graveyard to see the young man from earlier, starring at him. Who was he? Mike felt the strong, undeniable thought that he knew him from somewhere. He just had no idea where. Mike got up and started walking towards this mysterious guy, but as soon as he did so the young man turned and swiftly walked away from him.

Mike's initial instinct was right – there was something off about that guy.

Mike began walking faster, trying to catch up, but his father and uncle stepped out of nowhere and blocked his path. Mike immediately focussed on them, so as not to look suspicious himself. "Michael, we um..." his father began.

"We wanted to apologise for what happened in there – we know this is hard for you too," his uncle finished.

"And we're sorry for not being wary of that," his father said. Mike nodded at them both and smiled awkwardly.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you both – I know this is hard for you two as well," Mike apologised. They all hugged and made their way back to the crematorium. Mike thought more about that young man who had, rather suspiciously, retreated sneakily from the funeral. He's tomorrow's problem Mike thought to himself what matters now is the family.