Possession < Spider-Man • Book 1 >

- 21 -

chapter twenty-one:

Caelum didn't cry.

He didn't cry as he called his mother's relatives, telling them in vaguely remembered French about his mother's death.

He didn't cry as he made arrangements for her funeral and her repass.

He didn't cry as he got his brothers dressed and ready, or when he led them to the front church pew, telling them that he would be back later.

He didn't cry as relatives and friends came, all donning that ugly shade of black, the colour that sucked up happiness like a sponge.

He didn't cry as he, his father, his grandfather, and a few of his mother’s brothers carried her casket to the front and laid it down.

He didn't cry as a choir sang, both in English and a few lines in French. His mother was very close with the church staff. She had been attending the church since she came to America in the early 1990s. She was involved in all the events and used to teach Sunday school for the little kids.

Caelum didn't cry as speakers came up, co-workers giving stories of his mother’s work, patients treated by her, families changed with her help. He listened quietly, holding Castor's and Pollux’s hands.

He didn't cry as he stepped unto the stage, giving his own speech. His words were determined, business-like, and assertive. He spoke of stories his mother told him of home, the French she taught him when he was younger. He talked about her faith, how she loved her family, how she loved his brothers.

How she had loved him.

He didn't cry as he walked back to his seat. He didn't cry as the ghost stepped on stage. He hadn't seen her in years. Her eyes looked sunken in, her body strengthened by years of work. Her skin darkened from hours in the sun, her hair in long, locks that was pulled into an intricate bun. Her caramel coloured eyes found him. She gave the slightest smile.

Caelum didn't cry as he returned it.

Caelum didn't cry as he helped bring the casket out of the church. He didn't cry as he went to the burial sight, an area just outside the city, on a big hill. He saw the several hundred of other bodies, just as still as hers. Some of them had gravestones that were crumbling and forgotten with time. Others were fresher with flowers on the grave.

Caelum didn't cry as the pastor blessed the body one, last time, giving a prayer of his mother as he lowered her into the ground.

He didn't cry as they dropped purple lilacs over the grave ― his mother's favourite.

He didn't cry as they pushed the dirt overtop. He didn't cry as the guests began to leave. He didn't cry as he lingered, staring at the grave. He didn't cry as his brothers were silently led away by Dorri and Sarah.

He didn't cry as someone came beside him and took his hand. He didn't cry as she pulled him into his chest. He didn't cry as she began to gently stroke his hair.

Caelum did cry as she whispered to him. “It's okay, Cally. It's gonna be okay. . .”

The tears felt as if he had been holding them in since the beginning of time. They felt hot as they slipped past his cheeks. They felt strange as she gently rubbed them away. They felt wrong as his tears mixed with her own.

Then, someone was calling her. She pulled away, looking at him in his eyes. Caelum felt the tingling sensation on the back of his neck. He didn't look away. He wanted to take in her face, he wanted to see her again. He wanted her to stay.