Chapter Thirteen: Hillside

The line of cars creeping up the hill was short compared to how many were parked outside the funeral home. RJ was fourth in line and there was maybe another four behind him. Many of the people who came to the funeral would not make the climb up to Johnson’s Cemetery and there were several more with cars that shouldn’t try to navigate the unpaved road anytime. RJ’s honda complained and whined in several spots forcing him to downshift and once he fish-tailed in the mud but eventually made it to the top of the hill and parked in the grass along one side

There were already people at graveside and a trio of singers from a nearby church were filling the air with hymns. He walked along the row of the graves finding the Selkirks interspersed among the Johnsons, Marcums, Robinsons and Stampers. His brother Randy’s grave and his father’s had a bit of unused space around them and had been recently cleaned. Whoever did the cleaning had even scraped a layer of moss and soil off the top making the rectangles of the two graves look sunk-in and fresh. They were not of course, his father had died six years before, and his older brother Randy had died as a child of 13. The grave dug for his mother’s casket was about twice as far from his father’s grave than his brother’s was on the other side giving the layout a definite sense of beeing off center. Possibly the caretaker was showing some deferrence to the Selkirk family. How would you decide that? RJ silently pondered. Closer to her first husband, or closer to her father? Or possibly back down the hill at the Damron cemetery where her second husband was buried? Clearly some negotiation had gone on without his input. RJ wondered if there might be the same seating strategy used in a cemetery as there was in funerals and weddings, but at this point it all made a weird kind of sense.

After the preacher said his piece the choir started singing “Rock of Ages” and he broke down again, the sound of his mother’s favorite hymn brought back too many memories to hold in. He sat down on a hardwood bench and watched a few of the people who did not attend the memorial service setting up a tarp and pushing tables together for a meal. RJ had stopped trying to place who was who hours ago and he just thanked people for coming and accepted hugs and handshakes automatically. The emotion of the day had already left him feeling raw and ready to be alone.

Someone; his Aunt Ruth? had taken up a collection and she pressed a handful of bills and change into his hand, said everyone was so so sorry and turned quickly away. RJ didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t remember any money changing hands when his father or brother died, though if it had it probably went to his mother. He stood for several moments looking around for someone to ask, silencing the urge to call out to Aunt Ruth as she walked back down the hill. He was afraid he’d gotten the names wrong and the woman might be his Aunt “C” instead. That was one branch of the family he remembered fondly but had no idea how or even if they were actually related to him. He glanced at the tangle of crumpled bills in his hand and remarked out loud to no one in particular: “What a strange ritual this is, part funeral part church revival and part family reunion!”

After the meal he gave the money, roughly sixty dollars and change to the preacher and asked him to share it with the choir. Brother Damron was just as surprised and embarrassed by the gesture as RJ had been. He asked if RJ was sure? RJ nodded and patted him on the shoulder. He said “She would have loved this!” and walked away from the man as they both wondered why he’d said such a strange thing. His mother had mentioned death just once to RJ since Randy had died: “I’d rather you were dancing a jig on my grave than spend the whole blessed day crying and wailing. The time to feel sorrow for me will be long past.” RJ wondered how that wish and her Irish roots had mutated into the event he was seeing around him today? RJ came to the conclusion that the death of Geraldine Selkirk had made more of a stir in the small community of Wayne West Virginia than she’d ever done while alive.

He walked back to his car and found his brother Ron at his truck getting some tools to help clean up the cemetery. He wondered where the energy came from since he felt weak and didn’t even want to stand let alone do yard work. It seemed everyone wanted to do something, wanted to help in some way. Quietly he helped Ron take down the “Funeral Today” banner that was hanging between two identical pine trees that were planted for the purpose years ago. He stood talking softly about nothing in particular with his brother for a long time as they looked down the hillsides and across the river. They could just make out Grandma Selkirk’s house from the hilltop and the tiny speck of her dog Sparky running around in the yard. Ron reckoned she was feeling poorly and since she was blind and Aunt Chrissy didn’t drive it was unlikely either of them would make it up to the cemetery anytime soon.

“She’s become more reclusive since she had to auction a lot of her belongings to pay taxes on that tiny plot of land. Everything went up in value after the Military moved in and there’s word they’re thinking about flooding half of Wilson’s creek to put in a reservoir. Anyway, she’d probably think it a great pleasure to see you since you’ve come all the way from Indiana and all.”

RJ agreed and said he would stop in there before he left town. He said his goodbyes and promised to come by Ron’s house again before leaving town. He was certain they both knew he was lying. He drove the car around the cemetary and started to try and find his way back down the hill. He didn’t really care where he finally came back to the main road, which was a good thing since he ended up going miles out of his way. He passed a sign for Dunlow and realized he was on the far side of Twelve-pole creek now. He decided to stop in at Grandma Selkirk’s so that tomorrow he could go back into town and stay a night in a hotel before driving back to Indiana. He deserved that much. With a possible stop in Kenova if any of his high school buddies were still around to chat with.

The road was in better shape than he remembered but one whole section of highway 152 was closed now, having become the entrance to a military base of some sort. RJ seemed to recall there was a microwave tower up on one of the highest ridges but wasn’t certain if he was near there or not. It wasn’t as easy to find her house as it had looked from up on the hill and he found himself slowing down in many spots trying to see familiar landmarks. Several times someone in a truck behind him beeped harshly to remind him that he was the only tourist around.

Eventually he pulled up to Grandma Selkirk’s house and checked it closely before he got out to be sure he had the right place. The yard looked a bit like he remembered though there was no crops planted in the small field next door. He got out of the car and looked the place over slowly. It was the right place, though the porch looked even more saggy and worn down than before. A new roof of tarpaper gleamed in the sun and there was a large patch of gravel where most of the grass had been before. It looked like some large trucks had parked in the yard and then back-filled the grooves with gravel. He expected to be jumped on by Grandma Selkirk’s dog but Sparky was no where to be seen, probably hiding under the porch amid a pile of stolen toys.

His Aunt Crissy met him before he got to the top step of the porch, shouting back over her shoulder “Lord its Richard Allen, come to visit his grandma!” He hugged the rotund woman and was struck by how much shorter she seemed than he remembered. The smell of lilac water that went everywhere with her became more pervasive as she led him into the small living room where his grandmother sat in her rocker, exactly where she had been decades before when RJ last saw her.

Chapter Twelve: Among the living

RJ recognized the room.

This was the same room where his father’s funeral was held a decade before. Though this time there was no hiding in the back row with his school buddy Tripplett. In fact, the seats were gone complety and the room was for standing only, though a few folding chairs had been brought in for some of the elderly family members who couldnt stand long.

RJ was immediately noticed that there was a sort of unspoken division going on in the room between families. It reminded him of the oddl sort of layout you see at a wedding. The reasons and motivations arent much different in either case. There was a knot of men to the right made up mostly of uncles from his fathers side and a few first cousins. On the left were small groups of people from his mother’s side of the family. They werent as tightly knotted as the other group. RJ walked into the open gray area in between and noticed that there was no one from the Stevens family in either group. Maybe they felt like they wouldn’t be welcome. RJ had no idea if his mom still had any contact with her second husband’s family after he died. Out-lived them both, eh mom? he thought to himself as he walked slowly toward the dais where his mother’s casket was displayed. Her sister Mary was just walking away from it and there was a tall man of slim build bent over the edge of the casket crying into his handkerchief. RJ waited respectfully and got a few hugs from his Aunt Eleanor and her husband Bill. The man turned around and straightened himself and RJ noticed he easily topped 7 foot tall. He looked over his handkerchief as he moved forward and extended his other hand to RJ. “I’m deeply deeply sorrowful for your lost.” RJ returned his handshake solemnly and tried to place the man. He wasn’t a family member, at least not one he recognized and RJ was certain he hadn’t met him before now. His accent was definitely southern but from deeper down South. Even so it sounded completely out of place here. RJ searched the man’s tear-streaked face questioningly, hoping an introduction was forthcoming. “Ah…thank you sir, that means a lot. ” The man said nothing further and started past RJ then turned back, gripping RJ’s shoulder. He said loudly “You may have lost a mother, but I have lost a dear dear companion, and I am”bereft! Simply bereft!”

RJ blinked back at him, his questions silenced by the man’s outburst. He watched him walk way into the crowd and before he could ask anyone who the man was his cousin LindaKay nudged him and nodded toward the line of people behind him. “Go on up RJ, say good bye to your momma.”

RJ took those last few steps as if the all the fatigue hed felt in the past 36 hours were suddenly piled up on his back. He focused on the dark blue dress with roses printed on it and tried not to cry. It was no use. He stood there for what was probably only 10 minutes gazing at his mothers face, seeing that she was at peace at last. Inside it felt like an eternity before he could look away.

Suddenly he was shocked out of his remembrances by the sound of his mother’s voice coming from somewhere behind him. She was saying “Hello RJ its been too long!” He wheeled around and saw his mother standing before him in a floral dress and dark cabled sweater. His mouth shot open but no sound came out. He took a step back to look at the body in the coffin and then over at his mother. She was still standing there, smiling and holding out her arms to him. With a strangled cry he rushed forward and hugged her tightly, crying even more tears. The woman hugging him patted his back and said “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was coming back, I just got here myself.” “Coming back? From…from??” RJ’s mind started working again after several moments and he felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. “Bet you forgot mom had a twin sister didn’t you? I know I did. There here’s your Aunt Irene.”

RJ looked at her face again, he could see she looked like a younger, less travel weary version of his mother and he blushed deeply. He managed a soft “Of course.” Aunt Irene was still a bit surprised at RJ’s outburst and she patted him on the back as she untangled herself from his hug. ” Now I know what people mean when they say someone looks like they’ve seen a ghost! But I’m here to tell you that the only shock bigger than that is looking over there and seeing myself lying in a coffin.” Her voice trailed off and RJ followed her gaze over his shoulder and back to where several of his cousins were hugging each other and crying over the coffin. Irene walked over and spoke to them then they all hugged at the same time and a new bout of tears and sobs started up.

RJ felt he needed air or he was going to explode and he didn’t dare look over at his uncles to see if they had witnessed his shock at seeing his mother standing before him only to find it was her twin sister from Ohio. He went quickly up the stairs and out into the too bright day. He walked over to his car and rummaged in the glovebox for a tissue and wiped his face. He put a spare in the pocket of his suit and took several deep breaths.

“You’re not leaving already are you?”

RJ looked around and saw his brother Kelly leaning into the back of his pickup, an older and more beat up twin to Ronnie’s. Kelly spat tobacco juice on the dry ground and nodded to a young man standing on the other side. “Do you remember him? He’s your half brother Glen. Glen remember RJ? He’s the one too good to live in West Virginia anymore.”

Glen walked around the back of the truck and offered his hand to RJ. RJ took it and pulled him into a hug. Glen had short dark hair, no beard, and wore crisp new jeans. He smelled of denim and Old Spice. Kelly said “Remember changing his diaper when we were living on the Vaughn’s farm back in Mentone?” RJ did remember, but he didn’t choose to mention it just now. RJ was really glad Glen had come and told him so. He saw none of his mother’s face in Glen’s but thinking back to his father Glen Sr. he could place the hair and the smile.

“Have you been in yet?” RJ asked, nodding toward the open door of the funeral home, the darkness within masking anything beyond the shaft of sunlight in the hallway.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been trying to convince Kelly here he needs to go in.” RJ turned to face his brother with a stern look. “Why haven’t you gone in yet? Everyone’s down there.” Kelly shifted his tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other and answered. “Two reasons, and that’s reason number one, and reason number two is ’cause I don’t want to come out looking as stupid as you do right now.”

RJ realized his face must still be red and tear streaked and he was certain there were stains on his shirt front as well. He glanced in the sideview mirror of Kelly’s truck and resisted the urge to try and pat his hair into place with his fingers. “There’s nothing stupid about crying at your mother’s funeral.”

RJ could see Kelly was working up something more to say but he wasn’t going to debate it with him. He said “Suit yourself!” and turned to Glen putting his arm around his shoulder. “C’mon Glen, I’ll go in with you and nobody will say Anything Its the right thing to do.” and with that he led his half brother down to see his mother one last time.

Behind the scenes

I realize its been a couple of weeks since I posted a new part to my story. I have at least two chapters that are not ready for prime time, they’re sitting in here in draft mode. Just random ideas that need time to mascerate before I serve them up to you.

It has been a difficult time to stop and concentrate on my writing. We tried to go away for a week but only managed two days.  And now all the stress as we prepare for JJ’s flight home in two weeks may result in another delay. Which brings me up to our birthdays, during which I don’t plan on doing any writing, except maybe captions for photos.

In fact I have some on my phone just now, I’ll see if I can get them online for you.

Cheers, and keep checking back.

-flash

Chapter Ten: Overnight on the Hill

Ron’s house wasn’t actually a house at all but a double-wide trailer he’d somehow got to the top of Wilson’s Creek hill. It was full dark by the time they’d driven back thru down, down the other branch of Wilson’s Creek and climbed up to just shy of the very top. RJ knew that somewhere directly below his brother’s house was his Uncle Bob’s house. His dad’s younger brother who had given Ron much needed guidance after their father died. RJ hoped that Ron’s trailer was further up the hill from his uncle’s than it looked in the dark, because the slope of the hillside made it look like it might slide right down and settle on whatever was below it. RJ stayed close behind his brother’s truck till he stopped. There wasn’t much choice in where he could to leave his car, the widest spot off the road was where Ron parked his truck.  RJ stepped out in the dark and felt the ground give wetly. He squished and slid his way to the trunk, retrieved his suitcase and tried hard to keep it out of the mud all the way up to the door. His brother seemed to have several acres of land cleared for his trailer, but none of it was paved or even had flagstones to step on.

His brother was already inside when he got to the door and there was indeed sounds of gunfire coming from inside. A wide-screen TV took up most of the living room area, and a thin young man wearing a ballcap and tin of snuff was sitting on the couch watching “Terminator 2.”

Ron grinned and held the door open for RJ and his suitcase. “Told ya there would be gunfire. This here’s Albert, he’s a useless Fart that I can’t seem to get rid of. Useless Fart, this is my big brother RJ.” RJ nodded and leaned his suitcase against the side of the couch and took the proffered hand. The movie was still blaring loudly so he wasn’t sure what name his brother had given this stranger. “Nice to meet ya.” RJ was trying to look sincere but he glanced at the movie on the screen as Albert ran it backward looking for where he left off. RJ recognized the scene from early in the movie and inwardly groaned, realizing that there wasn’t going to be a quiet evening for chat and an early bed time.

Ron offered him a soda and some snacks and they sat down at either end of the couch to watch the rest of the movie. Albert was propped up in the middle with his feet on an ottoman and a can of beer cradled in his crotch. RJ sank back in the chair and tried to stay awake, answering questions as best he could but not hiding his yawns or pretending to be interested in the movie. He noticed that his brother and Albert spoke to each other in street lingo, or as close as they could manage. It amused RJ greatly to hear them try to sound ‘ghetto’ when they were 40 miles away from anything resembling a city, let along a ghetto.

Somewhere near the last third of the movie Albert paused it and apologetically asked if RJ wanted him to run it back to the beginning since he came in late. RJ assured him he knew the movie well and it wasn’t necessary to replay the first hour and a half. Albert started up the movie again and pushed the volume control up another notch. RJ could count 6 speakers in just the space around the sofa. The vibrations along his back indicated there were more behind or under the sofa itself. Ron noticed RJ counting, and bragged on his speakers stating proudly that he had paid a lot to bring them back from Germany and counted being able to play the TV as loud as he wanted to one of the key benefits of country living. RJ had to agree with him on that point and wondered if Uncle Bob agreed too.

Finally the movie ended and Albert lingered just long enough to finish his third beer before heading off into the dark. RJ’s head rang from a combination of the noise he’d just sat thru and his need for sleep. Earlier it had been the long drive that wore him out, now it really was past his bedtime and he felt like every inch of those 45 miles of bad road.

Ron pointed out the bathroom and told him to sleep in long as he liked, since he was going to do the same. He apologized for the couch not folding out and then went back into his bedroom for a spare pillow.  RJ hugged a cushion and shifted his feet up, stretching his legs for what felt like the first time in days. Ron launched the pillow at him and it slammed into the right side of his face, causing a painful snap against the curved arm of the couch. “Think fast!” he said about 30 seconds too late. RJ was too tired to even give him a dirty look. He waved surrender with a vague gesture of his hand calling out  “I remember I remember!” He decided against showering before bed and gratefully closed his eyes. As his mom would say, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He smiled in the dark briefly, and was suddenly very sad and miserably alone. He wished he’d come home sooner, he wished he’d never left, but mostly he wished he’d never came back.

Chapter Nine: Inside at last

The foyer of Moore Funeral Home was slightly cooler than the afternoon warmth of October just outside, and much darker. RJ stood blinking for a moment and tried to read the announcements on the wall while his eyes swam.  He could hear indistinct music in some other room, vaguely spiritual but not immediately recognizable. He wondered as he walked forward if there was such a thing as “Ambient Gospel” just for funeral homes. Still half blind he moved near a couple of doors trying to determine where everyone was and spun in surprise when a soft voice behind him said “Mr. Jervis?” He blinked rapidly trying to focus on the small, smartly dressed woman before him who was holding a door open and giving him a slight smile.

“Yes, I’m mr. Jervis, one of them anyway.”

“Come this way, your family is downstairs.” He followed her down a short flight of stairs into a open area that would not be out of place in anyone’s basement. Comfy, overstuffed sofas sat in a circle around a oval coffee table. Along the walls were discrete speakers and religious symbols set back in shallow alcoves. Sitting at one end of the coffee table were the owners, Mr. and Mrs Moore, and at the other end, his two brothers Ronnie and Kelly-Ray.

Ron exclaimed a bit too cheerfully as he walked in. “There he is! Come have a seat son.” And Kelly chimed in “About time too. We can’t get anything done here without you.” Ron stood up and hugged him, following it with a slap on the back, then looked around sheepishly, as if the extra noise and quick movements were discouraged in this place. Kelly fished in the front pocket of his coveralls and stuck something in his cheek. “We can’t get anything done cause none of us has any money. I hope you brought your check book cause its going to cause a helluva lot to bury mom.”

Ron sat down and gestured to the seat next to him. RJ swallowed, surprised to be confronted by the financial issues so soon after arriving. “Good to see you too.” he replied gruffly while eying his middle brother. Kelly looked back at him critically while shifting whatever it was in his mouth. RJ seriously thought he was going to spit on the carpet, or possibly on RJ.

“Well you’re the big city One, living in Indiana with your Hoosier wife and all, clearly doing better than either of us S.O.B.s.”

RJ looked around the circle of people about him, all expecting him to say something encouraging.  “I wouldn’t call New Carlisle a big city, and besides, I have 2 kids and a wife in school, there’s not much leftover….”  The comment was answered with silence and uncomfortable shifting by everyone. RJ noticed Ron sat rigidly and he wondered if he’d hurt his back recently. He wasn’t going to ask though he desperately wanted to change the subject. There was no real choice though, it was the Big Question of the night. He frowned at his brothers and the professionally passive faces of the Moores and said “So ummmm, how much money are we talking?”

Mr. Moore cleared his throat and said “Usually the surviving members of the deceased split the costs. I think we offer a very reasonable funeral for community members such as your mother starting at $20,000.”

The silence got longer and the looks at RJ deeper. Kelly sat forward and barked out “$20,000! Mom made less than that in a year, and mine’s not much more. Why’s it cost so much to dig a hole and put someone in it anyway?” He leaned to the side to spit, looked at the horrified faces around him and thought better of it. “How much is that each anyway?”

“Call it $7000 from each of us.” offered Ronnie, who was trying to be helpful, even though he had turned slightly green at the number. Mrs. Moore stood and excused herself, flipping thru papers on a clipboard as she left. Kelly got up as well “That’s no damn good either.” and walked back into the room where muted signs could be seen for the toilets. RJ watched him go and said “What else did I miss? Is her insurance handling any of this?”

Mr. Moore looked more uncomfortable and said “Mrs. Jervis didn’t seem to have any…active coverage.”

Kelly walked back up and barked out “Stevens!, she’d got remarried after Dad died. Where are any of them now? She’s gave up being a Selkirk when she did that. They should have to pay, not me.”

Ron gave Kelly a withering look and turned to RJ “I called our half-brother Glen and told him about mom. He hadn’t heard from her directly since the adoption, but I have stayed in touch. Even took him hunting with me last fall.”

RJ tried to conjure up an image of his half brother while Kelly proceeded to tell the story of their abortive hunting trip. “Boy has hay-fever or something…couldn’t stop sneezing, had dirt and dried snot all down his face by the end of the day.” Then he laughed harshly, “Sounded like a buck in rut!”

RJ couldn’t picture what his half brother Glen might look like now, he was 18 months old when he’d last seen him. Nor could he imagine what was going on inside Kelly’s head right now,clearly he was doing a poor job of dealing with the situation. Relations between RJ’s middle brother and his mom had been strained since their father’s death, and Kelly pretty much stayed on his side of Wilson’s creek, and Mom on the other. He didn’t seem to care much for anyone or anything save his gun, his pickup, and his son Justin. RJ wasn’t even sure he had that order right.

RJ stood up and stretched, still stiff from the long drive and too tired to think. He felt like he’d been here hours, and since there were no windows to let in the light, he might have been. It could be any time out there. He cursed the state things had fallen to here, and wanted to confront his brothers about taking care of their mom, but he wouldn’t do that in front of Mr. Moore. No airing family laundry here, though he was sure his brother Kelly was itching to get into it.  The last time RJ were here, Kelly had decided to bring up some childhood slight 25 years after it happened. Never mind that his father was lying in front of him in a casket, with all his relatives gathered round. Any time and any place was good for a scrap where Kelly was concerned.

A delicate clearing of the throat announced Mrs. Moore’s return. She said “Richard, there’s a phone call for you.” RJ blinked at her not understanding for a moment. “Who knows I’m here?” He asked no one in particular as he walked toward the office door she was holding open. If he was feeling less fatigue he might have gently corrected her with a “Call me RJ, everyone else does.” But instead he silently followed her thru the hallway and back upstairs to an office facing the entrance.  She gestured to the phone lying off its cradle and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. She apparently did a lot with doors in this job. RJ watched her go and then picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Selkirk?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the eldest son of Geraldine Selkirk-Stevens?”

“Yes, I believe I am.”

“Wellsir, I have good news for you. I managed your mother’s insurance policy and it appears that she was still covered at the time of her death after all. Not by much, but it should cover a SMALL funeral and her hospital bills.”

“That is good news. I’m sorry…I didn’t get your name sir?”

“Wilson, I represent Private and Casuality Insurance.

“And my mother had a policy with you?”

“She was a good, close friend. I am so sorry for your loss Mr. Selkirk.”

RJ had never heard of the company, but he could dimly remember a salesman coming by years ago when he was in college. He was certain the company name wasn’t P&C Insurance though. He was about to ask about the actual amount when the silence was interrupted.

“I won’t keep you long, if you could put Mrs. Moore back ….put Mrs. Moore on the phone I will make all the arrangements with her.”

RJ looked up from the phone to see Mrs. Moore standing silently in the door, she looked as if she expected RJ to be esctactic about the insurance news. In fact, the slipup Mr. Wilson just made led him to believe she had called him, not the other way around. He gestured her forward. “He wants to talk to you now.”

“Good news, yes?” she said as she took the phone from him. RJ was determined not to be manipulated into gushing his thanks, so he nodded solemnly “It appears so. Thank you for taking the time to talk to him.”

She looked disappointed at RJ’s reaction, but then waved it off. “Its nothing, we talk to insurers all the time in this business.”

RJ went back down the hall to the basement and Mr. Moore nodded at him and turned to his brothers. “I think your brother has something to say.” Both brothers quit bickering where they stood and looked over. RJ wasn’t going to say anything but it seemed he was being guided along a path whether he wanted it or not.

“That was an insurance company. He said mom had a SMALL policy that should help.” Ron showed immediate relief and sat back down, Kelly eyed him suspiciously “How SMALL is SMALL big brother?”  RJ shrugged “I didn’t ask for an exact amount, he’s talking to Mrs. Moore right now. RJ gestured to the door “Go and ask if you like.” He let the offer hang for a long moment, but Kelly made no effort to move towards the door.

Mr. Moore cleared his throat again and said “The evening grows long. Let us proceed under the assumption that a…modest funeral can now be afforded. Please look at the brochures I have placed on the table before you…”

RJ’s mind was trying to shut down on him. He didn’t want to be here picking out dresses for his mother to be buried in, he didn’t want to be awake at all at the moment, but every question came around to him, what he wanted, his brothers either being mute on the subjects of coffins and color schemes, or turning the question around on him. He remembered the final amount barely fell short of the estimate Mr. Moore had originally put forth, he must have had years of guiding people thru difficult questions at at time when they were most in denial, the most emotional. Kelly left during a discussion of makeup and skintones saying he had to get back up Wilson’s creek before it was too dark. Ron stayed thru the final decisions, and they got everything covered but picking out a tombstone which had to wait till the next day now that it was long after closing time. When the Moore’s walked them to the door and said their goodnights Ron turned to RJ and said “Son you look like 45 miles of bad road.”

“Isn’t that just 5 miles of bad road?”

Ron grinned and thumped the top of his pickup. RJ noted he was walking stiffly and holding his back rigidly. “In this case Bro, I mean every mile of it!  Follow me back to my place you can sleep on the sofa. Pay no mind to the sound of gunshot, just stay close.”

RJ gave him a startled look and he laughed again “You are so easy to rattle Big Bro, I’m just pulling your leg.”

RJ turned his car around in the parking lot and pulled up behind his brother’s pickup. Ron hit the gas and spun out in a cloud of dust and gravel as he got traction on the hard tarmac surface. RJ was hard pressed to stay close as his brother sped confidently thru town in the half light of the evening. Someone waved to Ron from the drugstore doorway and he drove around the courthouse and back to talk to whomever it was. RJ pulled into the spot behind him and waited while his brother talked and joked with whoever it was. He had time to read the bumpersticker on his brother’s truck just before as it pulled wildly away again. It read “If God is your co-pilot, you need to move over.”