Somnolent Strike

Condolences

Dark clouds hung in the sky over Lullaby Light Cemetery on Saturday afternoon. The air felt thick, cold and uncontrollable just like the loud sobbing going on around the grave. I noticed that grandma seemed embarrassed and maybe even slightly irritated by this, probably because none of the criers knew Sam like we did and yet they were crying the loudest. I remembered my dad's funeral. He was around the same age as Mom was now when he died. She'd been only twenty one and in a lot of pain because he was her only true love.

I heard grandpa whisper to grandma. "It'll be worse what those kids have to go through now. I don't know how much longer they'll keep it together. We might have to fight for custody at this rate, Louisa."

Maybe it's for the best if they win, I thought. 

I focused and there was the coffin being wheeled over to the grave. A bronze one, covered in white roses, white lilies, white tulips, black hellebores, black dahlias, black hyacinths. Their sweet sickly smell was as overwhelming as bleach. I wondered what they'd dressed Sam in. A long white nightgown like in the 1800s? His best suit that time we were at Aunt Julia's wedding? The clothes he died in?

I hoped they'd at least washed them thoroughly of blood. Sam used to be afraid of blood before he became... what he became.

"Are you all right, Ree?" Grandma whispers. Her brown eyes are bloodshot and her usual severe bun is gone, fringe in her eyes, gray hair tumbling around her shoulders, unbrushed.

I look at her, a long meaningful look.

She nods sadly. "I'm sorry love, that was a stupid question. We all loved Sam. He didn't mean to get into the... well let's not talk about that now. I just wanted to say if you need anything, you know where we live." 

She stayed with me throughout the burial as we watched Sam's coffin fall into the ground and get covered with dirt and moss.

Then it was over and half the people started leaving, not even bothering to say goodbye. 

The boy who'd asked for money for information came up to me. He looked gravely serious. He held out his hand and I shook it politely. I felt him slipping something between my fingers.

"My condolences." He said loudly and then ran away.

I looked at the paper in my hand and read it silently. 

Meet me 7 o'clock, by the ravine, near the abandoned house — Masyrrehc Manor... bring $60