My eyes searched the grief-stricken faces as I leaned against a tree, hidden in the dark. More people dressed in dark colors were starting to arrive and all gathered around a wooden box and the hole they were about to drop it in. Only when I saw Lilly and Oliver get out of the same car, him practically carrying her, did I move from the shadows.
No one even glanced at me as I glided over to where Jackson and my father stood, their eyes focused on the coffin with a blank look on their faces. Lilly and Oliver stopped in the back of the group just as the sermon began.
"Today is a day to remember Miley Stewart, a girl who was taken from us far too soon," my eyes scanned those who had come. I had always wondered who would go to my funeral. I never thought I'd actually see, though. Or that the body lying in the coffin would be so young. No faces even registered to me before a sudden sob broke my gaze. I watched as my brother covered his mouth and then put his hands down again. My dad put a hand on his shoulder, the only comfort he could offer.
"I can climb that tree," Jackson spoke in their backyard, pointing up at the biggest tree there was.
"Let's see you then," I had my hands on my waist, knowing that he was lying.
"Fine," he had scrambled up it faster than I thought was possible. I was shocked.
He sat at the branch and watched me, a now lesser human being below him. "See? I told you. I'm the strongest person ever."
To that I could only nod. Then I heard my mother's voice behind me. "What are you looking at, sweetie?"
That was when Jackson fell from the tree and broke his arm. He had resembled a rag doll, dropping and flailing and then landing on his arm then stomach with a sickening crack.
Now I stared at him as he put his hands to his mouth to sob once more. Jackson was so broken and fragile, so different from how he had been that day. Yet, so alike. Just this time, everyone was feeling that broken bone with him. "She was so full of life and energy. There was not a single moment when she was not getting into mischief," the preacher continued.
A small smile formed on my dad's lips and a few people chuckled. He replaced his hand to Jackson's head and brought it to his lips, kissing the side of his head. His eyes then went to the coffin and then his hand went back to my brother's shoulder. There was a haunted look in his eyes that I had never seen before; it was worse than when my mother passed.
The small lake was cool in the afternoon sun. The poles in our hands had not even so much as twitched in the last hour. It would be doubtful that there were any fish in there, but we used it as an excuse to get away from chores.
"When will mom get better?" I had turned to him after a prolonged silence and he turned to me with a small, forced smile.
"She is getting better. The doctors are giving her a treatment that will fix her up."
I paused. "Don't ever leave me, dad," it wasn't a request. Not even close. It was a demand.
He had dropped his pole then and reached over to pull me into a hug. "Never could, bud."
The sound of something sliding along the ground was what broke up apart, and we looked to find the pole sliding into the water. We both dived for it at the same time, similar expressions of surprise on our faces. We both also ended up in the water, neither with the pole but both soaked.
He never made me promise not to leave him. He had really believed that my mother was going to get better. There was no other option in his mind. When we were at her funeral he had disappeared in the same trees that I came from and we had gone home with Mama.
She was behind them, between Aunt Dolly and Uncle Earl. All of their eyes were locked on the casket, silent tears rolling down each of their faces. "Everything she did was completed with passion and love, bringing out the best in everyone," the preacher continued. "Let us bow our heads in prayer."
"Mama!" I threw myself into her arms as soon as she was within reach. Uncle Earl was holding me then, and I felt another presence closing in on my other side.
"Miley Ray Stewart look how you have grown!" to say I was shocked to hear my grandmother's enemy at our Thanksgiving gathering would be an understatement. Then they all moved to hug Jackson, who had been too busy playing his GameBoy to get the first hugs.
Aunt Dolly stayed behind, beaming at me. Then, as if she knew what I was thinking, she spoke. "Your grandmother invited me here. Thought it would be best, having us all together. Especially under the circumstances," my mother's death had not even been six months ago. And Dolly was never one to lie.
Mama was civil to her the whole day, even letting her help. Everyone was cheery and continued smiling when I knew that all they wanted to do was the same as me; curl up and cry. However it was the first time that I knew life was possible without my mom. Everyone that was there made my life so much easier and better than I could have imagined. Mama and Dolly getting along for Jackson and I showed just how much they cared.
The prayer was asking God to protect me and take me in. Also offering comfort to those loved ones who I left behind. With a repeated chorus of 'Amen', the preacher looked upon the crowd once more. "She leaves behind everyone here today. Her family and friends. One of them volunteered to say a few words today. Lilly, if you would come here please."
Movement from the back caused most to turn their heads, but Jackson and Robbie kept their eyes ahead. So did Mama, Uncle Earl, and Aunt Dolly. Then Lilly came into view, walking around the many people there. Oliver was supporting her with his hand on her arm. Then Lilly stood where the preacher had been and opened her mouth to speak.
Sudden laughter on her part caused orange juice to drip down Lilly's face. That caused me to laugh, and we were on the floor in seconds, holding our stomachs and rolling around. Attempting to breathe was our only goal on that Saturday afternoon.
"Okay, okay," Lilly wiped at the tears streaking her mascara. She took a huge breath and announced that she was 'done'. But then she began to smile, and then that turned into chuckles. I was still laughing.
"You. Were. Supposed. To. Grab. The. Yogurt," I took a breath between each word and forced myself not to break down in hysterics again. However my words caused Lilly to fall back and again we were at it, trying not to look at the mess we made when the yogurt had fallen onto the kitchen floor. We both had tears mixing with our eyeliner and mascara, causing black tears to stain our cheeks as we laughed harder than we had in a long time.
Today Lilly had not even bothered to put any make-up on. It looked as if a constant flow of tears had been running down her cheeks for weeks, and her nose was red as well. Oliver continued to hold her as if she would vaporize into mist if he were to let go.
"Miley was my best friend," she took a gulp of air and acknowledged Oliver's presence beside her with a glance. "Our best friend," she corrected herself. "She was the best… the best…best…" she burst into tears then, turning her face into Oliver's chest.
He closed his eyes and stroked her hair. If someone was not crying in the crowd, I knew that they would be now. Whether it was the silent tears from most of the family, or the choking sobs now emitting from my brother. Then Lilly's mom walked forward with her own tears and took Lilly from Oliver, pulling her out of the gazes of the mourners and beside Jackson.
Oliver stood on the podium, his black suit a contrast to the green grass around him and the trees behind him. His eyes were open now, the brown grazing across the many people in front of him. I was waiting for him to make a joke. Like he normally would in front of others to escape embarrassment. But he had grown up a lot since I last saw him.
The water was only up to my waist, and I wanted to get out.
"I don't like this at all Oliver…" I shivered to accentuate my point. But he only chuckled.
"You wanted to learn how to surf Miley. So pay attention to the waves," just then one came in and I attempted to stand on the board. The water and wax made my foot slip, and I was in the water again, holding my breath and feeling sand scrape against my head.
Hands righted me and I took a gulp of precious air. I looked at him. Maybe he would let me stop. Lord, I sure hoped so.
"One more time," he grinned.
"I almost died."
"Well it's too bad that you didn't. I could have used your car," I smacked him against his bare chest, making him cry out in pain. But he made me try again. And again. And again until the sun went down and I could actually manage to stand on the board and ride out a small wave.
It was so easy for him to make fun of death. I wondered if he was thinking about that now, standing up there. When he spoke, though, it was not a joke that came from between his lips.
"I miss you, I miss your smile. And I still shed a tear every once in awhile," the audience caught on then, and a few started mouthing the words. Jackson dropped his hands from his face and was the first to actually sing out loud. "And even though it's different now, I know you're here somehow," almost everyone was singing then. "And I need you to know; I miss you. I miss you." Then it started up again. Three times they sung that chorus before Oliver nodded to the audience and stepped aside. He was about to start sobbing himself. I could tell.
I glided over to where Oliver, Lilly, my dad, and Jackson stood; now all in a row. Aunt Dolly, Mama, and Uncle Earl were all visible between their heads as well.
I blew out the candles on the cake in front of me. Soft music played from the jukebox in the corner of Muffies; my favorite restaurant based off of the twenties. My father had rented the whole place for my party.
"Go Miilay it's your seventeenth, woo!" Lilly's singing stopped everyone else in their cheering around the table and everybody burst into laughter. She blushed and was shoved aside, Oliver taking her place.
"So we gonna cut the cake or what?" He patted his belly and I heard Uncle Earl in the back shout 'yeah le's do it!'
My father appeared then with a knife in his hand and he began to cut the cake. "Hey Miles," I heard and turned to face my brother who was leaning over the circular booth to speak with me. "You may want to watch out. Remember the shrimp incident?"
I wrinkled my nose and scooted farther from my father. "So how does it feel to be seventeen?" Aunt Dolly asked from where she perched herself beside me, blocking my escape route from my dad. She placed an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me into her.
Mama entered the room then with a huge tub of strawberry flavored ice-cream and I beamed at her.
That was the last time I had them all together in a room; the people who I loved most. But then there they all were lain out before me like that cake. I could cut them all into slices, because each had the same broken looks on their faces. But no one could top my father's. His slice would be the largest.
The preacher took that moment to continue by clearing his throat. "There is not much to say after that. One thing I must share with you all, in the words of Michael Vance; 'Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by its breathtaking moments.'"
I shook my head and a small smile formed on my lips. My hands reached out towards the people who made the biggest impact on my life. In turn, I placed my ghost of a palm against each of their cheeks. Each one closed their eyes as the breeze touched their tears and dried them up.
I knew I would see them again. It was in no way a goodbye. Just a way to keep them notified of my otherworldly presence before we got to meet again.
I stepped back, floating to the woods where I had come from. A sudden white light was beaming onto the grass and then my mother was floating with her hand reaching for me. It was then that I remembered how I always wanted to see who went to my funeral. It was also then that I realized that I saw the only people who mattered.
So, I took my mom's hand and followed her into the light.
---
Authors note;
This was inspired by that Michael Vance quote that I read and put on my Myspace profile.
The story nagged at me for two days straight after that so I sat down and wrote it.
Huemugo thanks (once again) to the fabulous Melissa (Team M) who is, more or less, my Hannah Beta.
Reviews make us all campers. Happy ones. They are also huemungo appreciated.