The Porn Identity

Chapter 11

       Bea snickered. "Sadie!"

       Sadie leaned a bit closer. "So, what happened?"

       "Noah showed up with his little girlfriend and a real stink started 'cause Nancy took one look at the girl and turned her nose up."

       "No!"

       "Yep. Then Bill suggested she wasn't a good fit for the family since hers was, well, too colorful if you catch my drift."

       "Ticky tacky." Sadie shook her head then glanced over the crowd. "Somebody should tell the Walker's they're not exactly top stock themselves."

       "And break snooty Nancy's delusions of grandeur?" Bea snorted back a laugh. "How will she survive if there's no one for her to look down on?"

       Jesus, these geriatric heifers are ruthless. I can't wait 'til I'm old enough to openly say all the mean stuff I say in my head all day out loud!

       "Anyway, after they left, I heard Bill talk about cutting him off."

       "Cutting him off from what?"

       "Apparently they were still helping pay some of his bills." She shrugged. "Either way it was no great loss."

       "He was always a troublemaker." Sadie ran a gloved hand over her wig to make sure it wasn't crooked. It was. "Remember that time Mary-Beth Wilson caught him peeping in her bedroom window?"

       Bea tsked. "Natural born pervert."

       The two of them stifled laughter. "If I keep having too much fun at this funeral, I'll about earn my seat in hell."

       "Say hi to Noah when you're down there."

        "I'll save a seat for you, Bea."

       Their giggles were cut off by the organ striking a bit harder than before. The congregation stood and turned back toward the door just as the preacher walked in with Noah's family right behind him.

       The first couple in the procession, I presumed, were Noah's parents. His father's straight-backed gait portrayed the image of stability and strength. His mother, however, was a little less than stable. She hunched forward slightly, dabbing at her eyes with her left hand and holding tightly to Noah's fathers' arm with the other.

       Behind them Noah's siblings filed in with their spouses on their arms. Except for the third and last one who staggered in last with cold hardly present eyes.

       That was it. His funeral procession consisted of seven people and five of them were in his immediate family. Ashley was missing. If the gossiping hens were right, then Noah's family wasn't fond of her. But would they be cruel enough to prevent her from mourning him? That's fucked up.

       After the family took their seats in the front pew the service began. They started with a prayer, and the preacher asked everyone to bow their heads. I took that as my chance to scan the crowd in more detail.

      The congregation seemed perfectly ordinary. The pews were dotted with figures in tasteful black suits and dresses. Ages varied, but there was a distinct whiff of middle-class Americana about the room. And though all heads stayed bowed in respect and all eyes closed, there was an impatience in the air. As if all the guests were here out of obligation rather than mourning. Even if that was true, it was still a light crowd. Funerals are for the living, after all. I get the feeling that Noah's not the only unpopular person in his family.