Tuesday Night
The crowd walked through the narthex of the Church of Our Lady of
Perpetual Hope, passing tables with old yearbooks, pictures, and
newspaper articles about the High School. The church was the most
natural place for them to hold the service; Giles and Buffy
obtained their holy water from its pastor, Father Abernathy.
Nearly all the survivors of the Class of 1999 and of the SHS
faculty were there. Most had brought their families, and some of
the mourning families were there too. No reporters or television
crews were there; there was a general feeling that only the
community of the High School was welcome, and that those who had
abandoned them or who were blind to the evil there should stay
away.
Buffy sat in the center of the front row, there by right of
sorrow and pain. Giles sat at her right, and Willow and Oz at her
left, with Joyce behind her looking over her shoulder. Xander and
Cordelia sat on Giles' right, and Jonathon and Tom sat further
down the row. In the back row, far behind them, sat Wesley
Wyndham-Price. He was dressed informally for a change, as he
could not fit his tweed suit over his casted arm and his back
brace. Just before the service was to start, a man in an
ill-fitting mismatched suit sat next to him and took off an
absurd hat.
A podium stood next to the altar, and twelve large photographs of
the martyred students and faculty sat on easels flanking the
altar. At 7:30, the SHS Band took their places at the apse, in
front of the photographs. Their costumes were burnt and torn, and
their flags were in tatters; each member wore a black
armband. There were empty places in the ranks, where members were
dead or were too wounded to march, while some members wore
crutches, casts, or used wheelchairs. The drum major raised his
baton, and the crowd quieted.
The students stood up, and the band began to sing the school
anthem. No one would ever sing the anthem again; no one knew when
the High School would ever be replaced, but it would have a
different name and a different meaning to its students. The band
and the rest of the students sang the final chorus together, and
the band returned to its seats.
Father Abernathy came to the altar, followed by the church Youth
Choir. He led the choir in a requiem, and then he called for
Jonathon to come to the podium.
"We are here tonight to remember the friends and classmates we
lost last week. We're not good at remembering people here. If we
think back on it, we all knew people who mysteriously
disappeared, or who were killed in some bizarre way. And we
always ignored it. We cannot ignore it now.
"Ten of our fellow students and two of our teachers, yes and
Principal Snyder, died because of last Saturday. They weren't
killed by a gas leak, and they weren't killed by an earthquake:
they died in battle, fighting something that would have killed
all of us, killed our families, and destroyed our city. If we
were to forget them, we would not be worthy of their
sacrifice. If we were to forget them, we would deserve to have
been killed ourselves.
"They were the bravest of us. They were not necessarily the
strongest of us or the most athletic, and they probably were as
scared as I was. But they faced their fears, and they died
defending us. Some of them were campus heroes before this
happened, and some of them we wouldn't have recognized if we had
passed them in the halls. Now here, they are all equal, and we
are here to honor them. We are all equally in their debt, and we
can only repay them by making the most of our lives, by not
throwing them away, and by being ready to do for our fellow men
what they did for us.
"Please rise while I read the names of our friends."
Jonathon paused while everyone stood up. He caught Buffy's eye,
and she gave him a sad smile.
Solomon Admore.
Larry Blaisedale.
Carole Eccles.
Jesus Hernandez.
Ms. Dorothy Iverson.
Donald McMaster.
Yves Montcalm.
Mr. Charles O'Brian.
Zoe Ann Sutter.
Martin Talbot.
Edward Vandiver.
Stephen Zoller.
Jonathon and the students remained silent for a minute, and then
Jonathon nodded and said, "Thank you." He then said in a softer
voice, "Oz, Devon". Oz picked up his acoustic guitar and moved to
the front where two chairs had been set up. Devon pulled out a
harmonica. Jonathon returned to the front row, and Willow gave
him a hug before he sat down. Tom looked at him angrily and
asked, "What are you talking about? A battle?" "Later."
Oz and Devon began to play the lament Oz had composed. It was
unbearably sad; Oz had abandoned the frenzied guitar work the
Dingoes had been known for, and Devon weaved in and out with
counterpoint. They traded off, playing slower and slower, until
it seemed like everyone's heart would stop along with the
music. Then, they switched to a major key, and they brought the
music to a resolution that somehow included a measure of
hope. They returned to their seats, and Jonathon returned to the
podium. Jonathon introduced friends of the departed to tell
something of what they lived for.
One of Solomon Admore's neighbors told of his childhood obsession
with Sandy Koufax, and the time he tried to run away from home
and sneak on a bus that would take him where the Dodgers were
training.
One of Larry Blaisdale's teammates spoke of Larry's many
sides. Larry, the dedicated football player. Larry, the macho
jock. Larry, the struggling student. Larry, the budding
writer. Larry, realizing he was gay and afraid the football team
would reject him. Larry, struggling to integrate all the parts of
his life. Finally, Larry finding peace, acceptance, and
happiness.
Carole Eccles' uncle told of her wish to become a gymnast, her
years of dedication and practice, how she gave it up after
anorexia nearly killed a teammate, and how she helped nurse her
teammate back to health.
Jesus Hernandez's cousin spoke of Jesus' pride in his family, and
how they had lived in the Sunnydale area for longer than
California was a state. his cousin explained that Jesus had
campaigned against restrictions on bilingual education, but that
he had also been a volunteer in an English literacy program.
One of Dorothy Iverson's students had come back from graduate
school to explain how she had been the only teacher to see
anything in him. He explained that with her encouragement he had
learned to love history, and with her help he had been able to
get into college and later graduate school.
Donald McMaster's father told of his dedication to the Boy
Scouts, how he had earned his Eagle Scout badge two years before,
and how he had saved the life of a camp counselor who had been
thrown out of a canoe while going through vicious rapids. That he
had jumped from his canoe to rescue the counselor was a matter of
instinct, and that he had fought at graduation was the same
instinct.
Yves Montcalm's sister spoke of how Yves wanted to drive race
cars, and that he had spent all his spare time at a race track
twenty miles away learning auto mechanics and learning to race
midget cars.
Charles O'Brian's wife told of his struggle to preserve funding
for classical music in the SHS curriculum, and how he fought
against having the curriculum being dedicated only to
test-taking. He had been proudest that one of his studens had
become a violinist for the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and another
had become a flautist for the Marine Corps Band.
Zoe Ann Sutter's mother talked about her struggle with leukemia
as a toddler, how she had remained brave throught the pain of
chemotherapy, and how she had been inspired to become a doctor
afterwards.
One of Martin Talbot's middle school teachers told how he had
taken up running in order to forget about his parents' crumbling
marriage. He had felt free only while running on the school
track, and his dedication had earned him a scholarship to
Pepperdine University.
Edward Vandiver's girlfriend read three sonnets he had written
for her, and told how on a dare he had won a poetry slam
competition at a coffeehouse in San Diego.
Stephen Zoller's aunt spoke about how he was an ordinary boy, how
he had no special aptitudes or problems in school, no great
athletic talents, but had a genuine interest in everything and
everyone around him. She had every confidence that he would have
found a vocation later, but that he was an ordinary teenager,
sometimes awkward, sometimes confident, always human. And, that
was all right too; you didn't have to be exceptional to defend
the things you loved.
The speakers returned to their seats, and the Youth Choir came
forward to sing the Te Deum, and Father Abernathy led the
congregants in a psalm. Then, Willow took the podium.
"I suppose we won last week. It doesn't feel like a victory; we
lost too much. The Rabbis tells us that he who saves one life is
accounted as though he saved the entire world, and he who takes
one life is accounted as though he destroyed the entire world. In
this case, we lost twelve worlds last Saturday.
"Ten students and two of our teachers died because of graduation,
and for what reason? Because a man wanted to achieve immortality
and unparalleled power. Because he was willing to destroy many
lives to work his will. We don't know what our friends would have
done with their lives, but each had the potential to do something
good and great. Wilkins had only the potential to be evil and
mean.
"In the six hundred years or so of living our friends would have
had, they could have done great things, made works of art,
written books, helped the world around them. They could have had
families, husbands and wives, children who could themselves done
great things. All this was ruined by an essentially childish man.
"But, our friends were willing to give the world up to save all of
us. I only know of one person who stayed away from graduation. No
one else hid, no one else ran away. We called, and they
helped. I don't think I've seen anything braver in my entire
life, and I think I know why. In the end, we just had to say,
'Enough.'
"We've all had some inkling that something was wrong with
Sunnydale. At first, it was a vague impression, something
glimpsed in the corner of the eye, something uncanny. And then,
my eyes were opened. Some of you know the feeling, and some of
them did too. We at Sunnydale High School learned how cruel this
town could be, that nightmares could be real, and that monsters
do more than hide under the bed.
"But, there comes a time when you have to fight. There comes a
time when you have to strike back at the opressor, no matter how
futile or foolish it seems. No matter if it will get you
killed. Whether it's Billy Budd striking back at Claggett, a lone
man on a Beijing street standing up to a column of tanks, or a
scared teenager saying 'No more!' to a demon, you have to stand
up to evil. Otherwise, you might as well not be human.
"No one wants to die. I didn't want to be eaten, or to be stabbed,
or to have my blood drained to provide sustenance to a demon. But
I would like to think that if I had died in a successful cause, I
would have died happy. And if I had died in an unsuccessful
cause, I still would have preferred that to having run away. We
here have many things to regret, we can regret our friends'
deaths, but we cannot and must not regret that they or we were
willing to die that day."
Willow took a deep breath, and she looked for faces she knew in
the crowd. The Admores were crying. Jonathon had his arm wrapped
around Tom's shoulders, giving him comfort. She couldn't see and
didn't care about her parents, but she saw Xander look at her
with awe, Oz look with adoration, and Buffy and Giles with
understanding. Now they knew why she was willing to fight.
"Jonathon was right, though. We in Sunnydale must be the most
forgetful people on the Earth. You all know people who died or
disappeared under weird circumstances; I'd like people to stand
and read the names of those they know about. And if you aren't
sure, it's probably one of those weird circumstances. Sunnydale's
that sort of town."
Buffy stood up and called out, "Kendra". Xander stood and said,
"Jesse". Cordelia announced, "Kevin". Joyce added, "Pat", and
Giles added "Jenny Calendar".
People behind them started to add names. They heard names some of
them remembered: "Principal Flutie", "Dave and Fritz",
"Dr. Backer", "Morgan Shay", "Lester Worth", "Mr. Platt",
"Theresa", "Mrs. Kalish", "Dr. Gregory", and others. Then, some
people added names they didn't recognize, people killed years
before: "Alice DeVane", "Tommy Cho", "Justine Apple", "Lou Ann
Smith", "Deborah Diamond", "Maxie Gardiner", "John and Marsha
Little", "Brian Hart".
The audience was silent for a moment, and then Father Abernathy
added "Father James O'Grady". People called out additional names
for the next ten minutes, and finally an elderly man said, "My
wife, Donna Bartle Byner". Everyone remained standing for a
minute, and then Willow spoke again.
"All these people, and many more, were killed by this town, by
vampires, by demons, by monsters from nightmares. I don't blame
anyone for blocking it all out, but we owe it to all of them to
remember. Please rise for the Mourners' Kaddish on page
3. 'Yisgadal, V'Yisgadash, Sh'mei Raba....'"
Willow returned to her seat, and Father Abernathy returned to the
podium.
"We are here tonight to commemorate an act of sacrifice and to
learn what lessons we can from it. In this church, we pray to He
who willingly sacrificed Himself to save this world; now we
remember twelve who sacrificed themselves to save this town. Our
friends wanted to live, and it is proper to love life. It must
not be one's only goal. That they fought hard to live does not
lessen their sacrifice one bit, for God weighs our hearts, our
souls, our thoughts. Our Lord sees their genuine willingness to
give everything for their fellow man. Sees, for God and the
immortal soul are eternal. And I am sure that God does not find
them wanting.
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, in memory
of He who sacrificed all to gain all, we commend the souls of
these men and women to our God. For they knew the Good and turned
away from Evil, for they acted justly, for they loved their
fellow man more than life itself, and because You weigh the souls
of all mankind, we pray that you gather them into the palm of
Your hand, that You succor them, that your regard them with Your
Holy countenance, and that You pring peace and healing to those
they left behind. For though the body is transitory, the soul is
eternal, and we pray You find them deserving of eternal life with
You.
"And when we face our moment of doubt, we pray that You inspire us
with grace, that You remind us of what our friends have done, and
that we profit by their example. And let us say, Amen."
Father Abernathy returned to his seat, and the SHS Band returned
to the front of the church. The band master raised his baton, and
they began to perform Aaron Copland's Fanfare for the Common Man.
After the fanfare, the band returned to their seats, and Giles
took the podium.
"All these were honoured in their generations and were the
glory of their times.
There be of them, that have left a name behind them,
that their praises might be reported.
And some there be, which have no memorial; who are
perished, as though they had never been; and are become
as though they had never been born; and their children
after them.
But these were merciful men, whose righteousness hath
not been forgotten.
With their seed shall continually remain a good
inheritance, and their children are within the
covenant.
Their seed standeth fast, and their children for their
sakes.
Their seed shall remain for ever, and their glory shall
not be blotted out.
Their bodies are buried in peace; but their name liveth
for evermore."
Ecclesiasticus 44: 8--14
Giles returned to his seat, and Oz and Devon took their places
again. They started to play a soft instrumental version of an old
song; Xander and many in the audience swayed as they heard the
words in their heads: "Was eight years old, and running with a
dime in my hand." The audience was silent until the final
chorus, and then everyone began to sing gently, like a
dream. "This is my hometown. My hometown, my hometown, my
hometown, my hometown." As Oz's guitar and Devon's harmonica
trailed off, the audience changed things slightly: "Our hometown,
our hometown, our hometown." Finally, the audience stilled, and
Oz and Devon returned to their seats.
Joyce handed Buffy some sheets of paper, and Buffy walked slowly
to the podium. She faced the audience, smoothed the papers, and
then she turned to the side, facing some of the photographs.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you. I would have given most
anything--I would have died myself--if it could have made this
day unnecessary, but I saw no way to do it. Mayor Wilkins was
just too powerful, and the demon he was to become was just too
big.
"But, I want to thank you. [She faced forward again.] And you. I
called for your help, and you believed me. You trusted me. You
didn't bat an eye, and what's with that expression anyway?
[Willow glared at her.] When I told you that the Mayor was going
to turn into a fifty-foot long snake-thing, they and you didn't
laugh, didn't scoff, didn't ignore me. People shook their heads
and said, "It figures," but all of you helped, all of you fought.
"I'm sorry. I knew some of you were going to die. I knew very well
that some of the people I called to fight wouldn't make it. It's
a terrible thing to know. But because we were all willing to die,
most of us survived. Our families, our town, and our world
exists today because we stood up to evil. The price was terrible,
but we paid it because we had to.
"I can't tell you what this all means; I don't know what it means
to me yet. We'll all have to figure this out ourselves. What can
I really tell you?
"I can tell you something, though. I think Graduation finally
brought us all together. We had the jocks working with the Goths,
the fashionistas working with the nerds, the musicians working
with the card-players, and the skateboarders working with the
regular crowd. After this, none of us will ever be able to pass
each other by on the street again. At long last, and sadly,
Sunnydale is finally, in spite of itself, a community.
"There's no ending to this. I can't wrap it all up with a moral. I
can't say: 'And they lived happily ever after.' I can't lie to
you and say that everything will be all right, because none of
you would believe me. All I can say is that our friends did
Good, and our friends did well. In the nights to come, when you
dream of the friends we lost, remember that. Know it. The town of
Sunnydale is cursed, cursed to be a home for monsters and
demons. But in the lives of our friends, and of yours, it is
forever blessed."
Buffy returned to her seat, and Father Abernathy came forward
again. He gestured to someone the audience didn't see, and then
the church bell rang thirteen times, for the ten students, for
the two teachers, and for Principal Snyder.
"We've prayed for the souls of those we lost, and we've remembered
them. It remains to us here to go on and live inspired by their
example. Mourn them, but do not despair, for we hope to see them
again."
May the Lord bless you and keep you.
May the Lord cause His face to shine upon you and be gracious
unto you.
May the Lord turn His countenance upon you, and grant you peace.
The service ended with a candlelight procession to the ruins of
Sunnydale High School. The Sunnydale police, of course, did not
interfere. They arrived at the school, and they left the
photographs and tokens of their friends at a makeshift shrine,
along with bouquets of flowers. Then the band's bugler played
"Taps", and the mourners returned to their homes.
The crowd walked through the narthex of the Church of Our Lady of
Perpetual Hope, passing tables with old yearbooks, pictures, and
newspaper articles about the High School. The church was the most
natural place for them to hold the service; Giles and Buffy
obtained their holy water from its pastor, Father Abernathy.
Nearly all the survivors of the Class of 1999 and of the SHS
faculty were there. Most had brought their families, and some of
the mourning families were there too. No reporters or television
crews were there; there was a general feeling that only the
community of the High School was welcome, and that those who had
abandoned them or who were blind to the evil there should stay
away.
Buffy sat in the center of the front row, there by right of
sorrow and pain. Giles sat at her right, and Willow and Oz at her
left, with Joyce behind her looking over her shoulder. Xander and
Cordelia sat on Giles' right, and Jonathon and Tom sat further
down the row. In the back row, far behind them, sat Wesley
Wyndham-Price. He was dressed informally for a change, as he
could not fit his tweed suit over his casted arm and his back
brace. Just before the service was to start, a man in an
ill-fitting mismatched suit sat next to him and took off an
absurd hat.
A podium stood next to the altar, and twelve large photographs of
the martyred students and faculty sat on easels flanking the
altar. At 7:30, the SHS Band took their places at the apse, in
front of the photographs. Their costumes were burnt and torn, and
their flags were in tatters; each member wore a black
armband. There were empty places in the ranks, where members were
dead or were too wounded to march, while some members wore
crutches, casts, or used wheelchairs. The drum major raised his
baton, and the crowd quieted.
The students stood up, and the band began to sing the school
anthem. No one would ever sing the anthem again; no one knew when
the High School would ever be replaced, but it would have a
different name and a different meaning to its students. The band
and the rest of the students sang the final chorus together, and
the band returned to its seats.
Father Abernathy came to the altar, followed by the church Youth
Choir. He led the choir in a requiem, and then he called for
Jonathon to come to the podium.
"We are here tonight to remember the friends and classmates we
lost last week. We're not good at remembering people here. If we
think back on it, we all knew people who mysteriously
disappeared, or who were killed in some bizarre way. And we
always ignored it. We cannot ignore it now.
"Ten of our fellow students and two of our teachers, yes and
Principal Snyder, died because of last Saturday. They weren't
killed by a gas leak, and they weren't killed by an earthquake:
they died in battle, fighting something that would have killed
all of us, killed our families, and destroyed our city. If we
were to forget them, we would not be worthy of their
sacrifice. If we were to forget them, we would deserve to have
been killed ourselves.
"They were the bravest of us. They were not necessarily the
strongest of us or the most athletic, and they probably were as
scared as I was. But they faced their fears, and they died
defending us. Some of them were campus heroes before this
happened, and some of them we wouldn't have recognized if we had
passed them in the halls. Now here, they are all equal, and we
are here to honor them. We are all equally in their debt, and we
can only repay them by making the most of our lives, by not
throwing them away, and by being ready to do for our fellow men
what they did for us.
"Please rise while I read the names of our friends."
Jonathon paused while everyone stood up. He caught Buffy's eye,
and she gave him a sad smile.
Solomon Admore.
Larry Blaisedale.
Carole Eccles.
Jesus Hernandez.
Ms. Dorothy Iverson.
Donald McMaster.
Yves Montcalm.
Mr. Charles O'Brian.
Zoe Ann Sutter.
Martin Talbot.
Edward Vandiver.
Stephen Zoller.
Jonathon and the students remained silent for a minute, and then
Jonathon nodded and said, "Thank you." He then said in a softer
voice, "Oz, Devon". Oz picked up his acoustic guitar and moved to
the front where two chairs had been set up. Devon pulled out a
harmonica. Jonathon returned to the front row, and Willow gave
him a hug before he sat down. Tom looked at him angrily and
asked, "What are you talking about? A battle?" "Later."
Oz and Devon began to play the lament Oz had composed. It was
unbearably sad; Oz had abandoned the frenzied guitar work the
Dingoes had been known for, and Devon weaved in and out with
counterpoint. They traded off, playing slower and slower, until
it seemed like everyone's heart would stop along with the
music. Then, they switched to a major key, and they brought the
music to a resolution that somehow included a measure of
hope. They returned to their seats, and Jonathon returned to the
podium. Jonathon introduced friends of the departed to tell
something of what they lived for.
One of Solomon Admore's neighbors told of his childhood obsession
with Sandy Koufax, and the time he tried to run away from home
and sneak on a bus that would take him where the Dodgers were
training.
One of Larry Blaisdale's teammates spoke of Larry's many
sides. Larry, the dedicated football player. Larry, the macho
jock. Larry, the struggling student. Larry, the budding
writer. Larry, realizing he was gay and afraid the football team
would reject him. Larry, struggling to integrate all the parts of
his life. Finally, Larry finding peace, acceptance, and
happiness.
Carole Eccles' uncle told of her wish to become a gymnast, her
years of dedication and practice, how she gave it up after
anorexia nearly killed a teammate, and how she helped nurse her
teammate back to health.
Jesus Hernandez's cousin spoke of Jesus' pride in his family, and
how they had lived in the Sunnydale area for longer than
California was a state. his cousin explained that Jesus had
campaigned against restrictions on bilingual education, but that
he had also been a volunteer in an English literacy program.
One of Dorothy Iverson's students had come back from graduate
school to explain how she had been the only teacher to see
anything in him. He explained that with her encouragement he had
learned to love history, and with her help he had been able to
get into college and later graduate school.
Donald McMaster's father told of his dedication to the Boy
Scouts, how he had earned his Eagle Scout badge two years before,
and how he had saved the life of a camp counselor who had been
thrown out of a canoe while going through vicious rapids. That he
had jumped from his canoe to rescue the counselor was a matter of
instinct, and that he had fought at graduation was the same
instinct.
Yves Montcalm's sister spoke of how Yves wanted to drive race
cars, and that he had spent all his spare time at a race track
twenty miles away learning auto mechanics and learning to race
midget cars.
Charles O'Brian's wife told of his struggle to preserve funding
for classical music in the SHS curriculum, and how he fought
against having the curriculum being dedicated only to
test-taking. He had been proudest that one of his studens had
become a violinist for the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and another
had become a flautist for the Marine Corps Band.
Zoe Ann Sutter's mother talked about her struggle with leukemia
as a toddler, how she had remained brave throught the pain of
chemotherapy, and how she had been inspired to become a doctor
afterwards.
One of Martin Talbot's middle school teachers told how he had
taken up running in order to forget about his parents' crumbling
marriage. He had felt free only while running on the school
track, and his dedication had earned him a scholarship to
Pepperdine University.
Edward Vandiver's girlfriend read three sonnets he had written
for her, and told how on a dare he had won a poetry slam
competition at a coffeehouse in San Diego.
Stephen Zoller's aunt spoke about how he was an ordinary boy, how
he had no special aptitudes or problems in school, no great
athletic talents, but had a genuine interest in everything and
everyone around him. She had every confidence that he would have
found a vocation later, but that he was an ordinary teenager,
sometimes awkward, sometimes confident, always human. And, that
was all right too; you didn't have to be exceptional to defend
the things you loved.
The speakers returned to their seats, and the Youth Choir came
forward to sing the Te Deum, and Father Abernathy led the
congregants in a psalm. Then, Willow took the podium.
"I suppose we won last week. It doesn't feel like a victory; we
lost too much. The Rabbis tells us that he who saves one life is
accounted as though he saved the entire world, and he who takes
one life is accounted as though he destroyed the entire world. In
this case, we lost twelve worlds last Saturday.
"Ten students and two of our teachers died because of graduation,
and for what reason? Because a man wanted to achieve immortality
and unparalleled power. Because he was willing to destroy many
lives to work his will. We don't know what our friends would have
done with their lives, but each had the potential to do something
good and great. Wilkins had only the potential to be evil and
mean.
"In the six hundred years or so of living our friends would have
had, they could have done great things, made works of art,
written books, helped the world around them. They could have had
families, husbands and wives, children who could themselves done
great things. All this was ruined by an essentially childish man.
"But, our friends were willing to give the world up to save all of
us. I only know of one person who stayed away from graduation. No
one else hid, no one else ran away. We called, and they
helped. I don't think I've seen anything braver in my entire
life, and I think I know why. In the end, we just had to say,
'Enough.'
"We've all had some inkling that something was wrong with
Sunnydale. At first, it was a vague impression, something
glimpsed in the corner of the eye, something uncanny. And then,
my eyes were opened. Some of you know the feeling, and some of
them did too. We at Sunnydale High School learned how cruel this
town could be, that nightmares could be real, and that monsters
do more than hide under the bed.
"But, there comes a time when you have to fight. There comes a
time when you have to strike back at the opressor, no matter how
futile or foolish it seems. No matter if it will get you
killed. Whether it's Billy Budd striking back at Claggett, a lone
man on a Beijing street standing up to a column of tanks, or a
scared teenager saying 'No more!' to a demon, you have to stand
up to evil. Otherwise, you might as well not be human.
"No one wants to die. I didn't want to be eaten, or to be stabbed,
or to have my blood drained to provide sustenance to a demon. But
I would like to think that if I had died in a successful cause, I
would have died happy. And if I had died in an unsuccessful
cause, I still would have preferred that to having run away. We
here have many things to regret, we can regret our friends'
deaths, but we cannot and must not regret that they or we were
willing to die that day."
Willow took a deep breath, and she looked for faces she knew in
the crowd. The Admores were crying. Jonathon had his arm wrapped
around Tom's shoulders, giving him comfort. She couldn't see and
didn't care about her parents, but she saw Xander look at her
with awe, Oz look with adoration, and Buffy and Giles with
understanding. Now they knew why she was willing to fight.
"Jonathon was right, though. We in Sunnydale must be the most
forgetful people on the Earth. You all know people who died or
disappeared under weird circumstances; I'd like people to stand
and read the names of those they know about. And if you aren't
sure, it's probably one of those weird circumstances. Sunnydale's
that sort of town."
Buffy stood up and called out, "Kendra". Xander stood and said,
"Jesse". Cordelia announced, "Kevin". Joyce added, "Pat", and
Giles added "Jenny Calendar".
People behind them started to add names. They heard names some of
them remembered: "Principal Flutie", "Dave and Fritz",
"Dr. Backer", "Morgan Shay", "Lester Worth", "Mr. Platt",
"Theresa", "Mrs. Kalish", "Dr. Gregory", and others. Then, some
people added names they didn't recognize, people killed years
before: "Alice DeVane", "Tommy Cho", "Justine Apple", "Lou Ann
Smith", "Deborah Diamond", "Maxie Gardiner", "John and Marsha
Little", "Brian Hart".
The audience was silent for a moment, and then Father Abernathy
added "Father James O'Grady". People called out additional names
for the next ten minutes, and finally an elderly man said, "My
wife, Donna Bartle Byner". Everyone remained standing for a
minute, and then Willow spoke again.
"All these people, and many more, were killed by this town, by
vampires, by demons, by monsters from nightmares. I don't blame
anyone for blocking it all out, but we owe it to all of them to
remember. Please rise for the Mourners' Kaddish on page
3. 'Yisgadal, V'Yisgadash, Sh'mei Raba....'"
Willow returned to her seat, and Father Abernathy returned to the
podium.
"We are here tonight to commemorate an act of sacrifice and to
learn what lessons we can from it. In this church, we pray to He
who willingly sacrificed Himself to save this world; now we
remember twelve who sacrificed themselves to save this town. Our
friends wanted to live, and it is proper to love life. It must
not be one's only goal. That they fought hard to live does not
lessen their sacrifice one bit, for God weighs our hearts, our
souls, our thoughts. Our Lord sees their genuine willingness to
give everything for their fellow man. Sees, for God and the
immortal soul are eternal. And I am sure that God does not find
them wanting.
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, in memory
of He who sacrificed all to gain all, we commend the souls of
these men and women to our God. For they knew the Good and turned
away from Evil, for they acted justly, for they loved their
fellow man more than life itself, and because You weigh the souls
of all mankind, we pray that you gather them into the palm of
Your hand, that You succor them, that your regard them with Your
Holy countenance, and that You pring peace and healing to those
they left behind. For though the body is transitory, the soul is
eternal, and we pray You find them deserving of eternal life with
You.
"And when we face our moment of doubt, we pray that You inspire us
with grace, that You remind us of what our friends have done, and
that we profit by their example. And let us say, Amen."
Father Abernathy returned to his seat, and the SHS Band returned
to the front of the church. The band master raised his baton, and
they began to perform Aaron Copland's Fanfare for the Common Man.
After the fanfare, the band returned to their seats, and Giles
took the podium.
"All these were honoured in their generations and were the
glory of their times.
There be of them, that have left a name behind them,
that their praises might be reported.
And some there be, which have no memorial; who are
perished, as though they had never been; and are become
as though they had never been born; and their children
after them.
But these were merciful men, whose righteousness hath
not been forgotten.
With their seed shall continually remain a good
inheritance, and their children are within the
covenant.
Their seed standeth fast, and their children for their
sakes.
Their seed shall remain for ever, and their glory shall
not be blotted out.
Their bodies are buried in peace; but their name liveth
for evermore."
Ecclesiasticus 44: 8--14
Giles returned to his seat, and Oz and Devon took their places
again. They started to play a soft instrumental version of an old
song; Xander and many in the audience swayed as they heard the
words in their heads: "Was eight years old, and running with a
dime in my hand." The audience was silent until the final
chorus, and then everyone began to sing gently, like a
dream. "This is my hometown. My hometown, my hometown, my
hometown, my hometown." As Oz's guitar and Devon's harmonica
trailed off, the audience changed things slightly: "Our hometown,
our hometown, our hometown." Finally, the audience stilled, and
Oz and Devon returned to their seats.
Joyce handed Buffy some sheets of paper, and Buffy walked slowly
to the podium. She faced the audience, smoothed the papers, and
then she turned to the side, facing some of the photographs.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you. I would have given most
anything--I would have died myself--if it could have made this
day unnecessary, but I saw no way to do it. Mayor Wilkins was
just too powerful, and the demon he was to become was just too
big.
"But, I want to thank you. [She faced forward again.] And you. I
called for your help, and you believed me. You trusted me. You
didn't bat an eye, and what's with that expression anyway?
[Willow glared at her.] When I told you that the Mayor was going
to turn into a fifty-foot long snake-thing, they and you didn't
laugh, didn't scoff, didn't ignore me. People shook their heads
and said, "It figures," but all of you helped, all of you fought.
"I'm sorry. I knew some of you were going to die. I knew very well
that some of the people I called to fight wouldn't make it. It's
a terrible thing to know. But because we were all willing to die,
most of us survived. Our families, our town, and our world
exists today because we stood up to evil. The price was terrible,
but we paid it because we had to.
"I can't tell you what this all means; I don't know what it means
to me yet. We'll all have to figure this out ourselves. What can
I really tell you?
"I can tell you something, though. I think Graduation finally
brought us all together. We had the jocks working with the Goths,
the fashionistas working with the nerds, the musicians working
with the card-players, and the skateboarders working with the
regular crowd. After this, none of us will ever be able to pass
each other by on the street again. At long last, and sadly,
Sunnydale is finally, in spite of itself, a community.
"There's no ending to this. I can't wrap it all up with a moral. I
can't say: 'And they lived happily ever after.' I can't lie to
you and say that everything will be all right, because none of
you would believe me. All I can say is that our friends did
Good, and our friends did well. In the nights to come, when you
dream of the friends we lost, remember that. Know it. The town of
Sunnydale is cursed, cursed to be a home for monsters and
demons. But in the lives of our friends, and of yours, it is
forever blessed."
Buffy returned to her seat, and Father Abernathy came forward
again. He gestured to someone the audience didn't see, and then
the church bell rang thirteen times, for the ten students, for
the two teachers, and for Principal Snyder.
"We've prayed for the souls of those we lost, and we've remembered
them. It remains to us here to go on and live inspired by their
example. Mourn them, but do not despair, for we hope to see them
again."
May the Lord bless you and keep you.
May the Lord cause His face to shine upon you and be gracious
unto you.
May the Lord turn His countenance upon you, and grant you peace.
The service ended with a candlelight procession to the ruins of
Sunnydale High School. The Sunnydale police, of course, did not
interfere. They arrived at the school, and they left the
photographs and tokens of their friends at a makeshift shrine,
along with bouquets of flowers. Then the band's bugler played
"Taps", and the mourners returned to their homes.
