On Monday morning I didn’t put my school uniform on when I got out of the shower. I dug through my wardrobe, pulled out my white shirt and my good pants. For once I wore my nice silver watch. I borrowed a black tie from Dad and got his help tying it. Leanne fussed and straightened it when he was done, then tried to run a comb through my hair like I was five years old. I choked down a few bites of toast and left the rest sitting on the plate. Cleaned my teeth, shaved, and checked the state of my bruises. I could move almost without pain now. Joy. I poured some cat biscuits into Phineas’s bowl, then I put on my bag and caught the bus to school.
Most of the younger kids at school were still in uniform, but about a third of the Year Thirteens and a handful of the Year Twelves were in good clothes as well: black dresses, black suits, black hats, black ties. It was like a fashion parade for the extremely colour-blind. I sat and muddled my way through the morning classes. Mr Harvey came up to me after homeroom and tried to talk, but I wasn’t in a talking mood. Then at 10:30 the buses came to take us to Ella’s funeral.
I managed to sneak onto a bus filled mostly with Year Twelves I didn’t know well, so I didn’t find myself stuck in a confined space with anyone who might be likely to take a swing at me. But that only lasted until we reached the funeral home and the teachers who were supervising ushered us inside.
I smelled Jeremy before I saw him. When you’ve inhaled a guy’s scent as he tries to turn your insides into toothpaste, it kind of sticks with you. He came alongside me as the crowd of students shuffled inside. My back went stiff.
“I hear you’ve got Megan on your side now,” he whispered, his voice low enough so only I could hear it. “I hear you’ve got her dancing to all your bullshit.”
“Then you hear wrong,” I said, keeping my eyes forward. “Might want to get your ears tested.”
“You’re slime. A user. The worst piece of shit humanity has to offer. Somehow you conned Ella into hanging around with you, and you screwed her life over.”
I said nothing.
“What do you want with Megan?” he said.
“The hell business is it of yours?”
I felt his hand scrunch the back of my shirt. He lowered his voice even further as we passed another teacher. “I reminded the cops what you did to her family. I’m gonna make sure everyone knows why she killed herself. I’m watching you.”
“And I’m watching you. Where were you last Sunday night?”
“Fuck you, Spade,”
“And you, Jeremy.”
We split up as they began to seat us. I found a place away by myself, where I was happiest. Jeremy went to sit by Dave and Megan. Megan glanced around, found me sitting near the back. She gave a sad smile and a miniature wave and then turned back to the front as some old guy who didn’t know Ella from a loaf of bread started to speak.
After a while, the old guy stepped aside and let people who knew Ella come up and tell their tales. I hunched down in my seat when Ella’s mum went up, but I don’t think she saw me sitting there. She got stuck every three words or so and had to blow her nose. By the time she’d described sending Ella off to school for the first time she was a wreck. When she couldn’t speak anymore, someone who must’ve been Ella’s uncle came along and helped her mum offstage. Ella’s little brother came up a moment later and took over where his mum left off. Max was a brave kid, but eventually the grief took him as well.
Megan did a little better in her speech. She shook as she spoke, but the words were clear, and if there were tears running down her cheeks they didn’t stop her saying her piece. She told one of the same stories as from the memorial at school, and another about the first time they met. She even managed to get a laugh out of the crowd and a smile out of me.
Eventually the music played and the pallbearers carried Ella’s coffin down the aisle towards the hearse waiting outside. I forced myself to look at her coffin. It looked bigger than I expected. She must be swimming in there.
As everyone got up and started following the coffin I caught sight of Raj in the crowd, wearing a black short-sleeved shirt and dark jeans. I edged through the throng to get to him.
“Didn’t expect you to be here,” I said.
He shrugged. He looked weird without his guitar in his hands. “How about these digs, eh? Pretty nice.”
“Sure.”
“You find your friend? Mr Malcolm Barker?”
“Kind of. You got an address on him yet? And do you know anything about any friends of his? Tall skinny white guy, glasses, in his thirties or so? And a blonde woman that could scoop any beauty contest you aimed her at?”
He shook his head and shuffled out of the way of an old guy with a walker. “Sorry on all counts, bro.”
Damn it. Raj had been my only hope. I could wait until Friday and see if Malcolm showed at the Longhouse again, but every day that went by I was further from getting to the bottom of this. My only other option was to go down to the University and wander the buildings, hoping to catch a glimpse of Malcolm among the thousands of students.
Then a thought came to me. “Say, what’d you say Malcolm Barker studied at uni?”
“He’s a Business major. I checked. Third year. I heard he’s doing summer school at the moment.”
I checked my watch. Only just after midday. It’d be a dick move, but it was a bit late for me to start pretending I wasn’t an arsehole.
I clapped Raj on the shoulder as we emerged into daylight. Once again it was way too sunny a day for such a shitty occasion. God must’ve missed the memo. “Thanks. I have to roll. Can I get a favour? Find Megan and get her to cover for me.”
“You’re bailing on a funeral?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s low, bro. Real low.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
I glanced around, made sure no teachers were watching. I looked at Ella’s coffin one more time as they began to load it into the hearse. Sorry, I told her. If I thought that was really you in that coffin, I’d stick with you to the end.
But it wasn’t her. Wherever she was now, it sure wasn’t here. I slung my bag over my shoulder, ducked away from the crowd, and made for the bus stop.
~~~
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