Not Sure If You're A Boy or A Girl~ Reddie

Marlboro Lights, Baby Powder and Goodbyes

Richie was not at his mothers funeral because she was at home alive. Probably passed out on the sofa.
The neck tie that was strangling his windpipe as he forced down a cry wasn't there. Richie wasn't there. This was all some fucked dream and that's why he couldn't feel anything. That's why he felt like he was out of his body watching himself slowly trudge down the somber maroon carpet of the church he hadn't stepped inside since he was ten.
That's what it felt like at least.
Mike would inform him later as he expressed this feeling that it was called dissociating. A product of anxiety that was the only reason he wasn't breaking down into a fit of sobs seated at the front pew in between his Father and Eddie. Eddie's hand held his as the preacher approached the stand, bible clasped to his chest.
"Margaret Tozier, a daughter, Wife, Mother,"
The preacher droned on, Richie finding more focus on the particles of dust floating in the rays of sunlight as the older gentlemen broke into the tired verse of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. The Byrd's 'Turn!Turn!Turn!' began to play lazily in his head.
'A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late'
Most of the pews were filled with family and friends. People Eddie really didn't recognise, sans the rest of the Losers that sat behind him. Some bared a subtle resemblance to Richie, like his Father, others did not.
He turned to Richie, offering the smile he wore but didn't really have.
Before they returned Margaret Tozier to the earth, Eddie, Richie, Wentworth and Maggie's parents stood in a line by her casket. Neither boys had the courage to look inside. Both wanting to remember her, before, as she handed them her life's savings and gave them an encouraging, albeit tired, smile.
As Eddie stood there shaking hands and receiving hugs he felt weren't really for him he couldn't help but feel something. Excited for lack of a better word. Excited that he was there with Richie. His significant other. His family.
A massive bumbling form came into his line of sight, dressed in a black floral shirt waist dress, or that's what it would've been called had she had a waist. Instead the ribbon divided her midsection into two large folds. She was waiting in the line to give her condolences, but her attention was solely on her daughter. Eddie felt his chest tighten as he looked into the disturbingly calm eyes of his Mother.
"Emily," his mother began, lips puckered tightly, "Where have you been?"
Eddie felt the words piece together in his throat but couldn't manage to cough them out. Behind Sonia a line was forming of other mourners, but if he knew his Mother she wouldn't budge until he said something.
"Hi, Mu-Mom."
He almost said Mummy. Like he always used to. The implied rebellion did not go unnoticed.
"I'll be waiting after the burial. Don't make me come find you."
Her harsh tone left Eddie shaken. Mouth slightly agape as she moved onto Richie, holding his hand harder than needed and offering insincere sympathy.
"We all saw this day coming. I'm sorry for your loss, Richard."
The loud mouthed boy said nothing, eyes focused behind Sonia's head as she plodded away. He wiped his hand on his pant leg.
He wondered briefly if she had practiced the phrase in the mirror that morning. Her tone was that precise. The chilling mix of apathy and disdain wounding him slightly.
The air outside was covered in a soupy mist, rain pooling in the emerald grass that sprawled through the cemetery. Rain at a funeral further convinced Richie that this wasn't real. It was too fitting. Too on the nose, for his taste.
He watched as the shining cherrytone poplar casket containing his Mother's body was lowered into the ground.
A few words were said by Wentworth. They came off sort of strange and distant. Something about wishing things had been different. No one else said anything.
Eddie's hand was still linked with Richie's. He gave it a small squeeze, releasing the clamp on his chest. Richie could breathe again, if only for a moment.
As the guests began to meander away, Richie found himself seated on the grass. His pants were soaking through to his skin leaving a chill on his bones. He couldn't help it though. He couldn't leave. Eddie and his Father towered above him. Like two benevolent trees, the possibility of them crushing him was there but he knew they wouldn't.
The sound of sloshing footsteps started to fill his ears. They were heavy. Menacing.
"I warned you not to make me find you, Emily."
"Sonia."
Wentworth stated as if to spare his son the effort of looking up.
"Wentworth, I would appreciate it if you let me have a word with my daughter."
"I believe you mean your son."
The words strike Richie right in his heart. Maybe his Mother did let on more than he'd thought.
Sonia let out a laugh. Low and dry.
"My what?"
"Your son. Emily is a boy."
"Eddie, sir."
Eddie felt small, backed up against Richie's Father as Sonia's chest heaved, face flushed blood red. He wasn't even sure how he found the courage to speak up.
Richie had decided to join the conversation. He stood beside his boyfriend, still staring off into space just beyond Sonia's left shoulder.
"Eddie." Went repeats, determined.
"Emily, is this why you cut your hair? Why you ran away?"
Eddie nodded, relieved that if his Mother did try to beat him she would have nothing but her fists to do it with.
"You're sick. The Tozier boy. He's poisoned you with his homosexual depravity."
Richie thinks back to his Mother the day they took off. Eyes closed tight trying not to cry, back pressed to the door while Sonia pounded into the other side. He thinks of the way her thin fingers held onto her shoulders to drive home the point that Eddie was ok. Sexuality was fluid and it was ok.
"I'm not sick. This is me, Mom. I'm happy! Richie makes me happy!"
"Enough, Emily!"
Sonia seemed to howl. Nostrils flared like a wild animal.
"Eddie. Edward Fucking Kaspbrak!"
The words flew from Richard's mouth. The faint smell of Marlboro lights and baby powder invade his nose right before a swift slap cracked against his cheek.
He recovered quickly enough to see the fear and simultaneous anger in the woman's face.
"Stop! Mummy, stop," Eddie threw himself at his Mother, "please. I'll go. Don't hurt anyone."
"Eddie, no."
Sonia looked at her daughter. Short hair. Dressed in a suit.
She could feel her stomach clench in disgust.
"Get in the car, Emily. Now."