"How did you know Maryanne, Mr. ...what was it again?" Ori's mother's eyes, neatly lined in black, pierced Mike like a hatpin. He had a moment of confusion, wondering who the hell Maryanne was. People dressed in black circled around them, cawing quietly and picking at shiny objects.
"Just Mike is fine, Ma'am. She was a friend of a friend." Where the hell is Julie?
"I see. And you felt it was...appropriate for you to come here?" Her eyes darted from the streaks of blue in Mike's hair to his green nail polish to his red Doc Marten's.
"I, uh, I just wanted to, uh, pay my respects?"
The outside door opened with a blast of warm air, like a relief. Julie stood, hands clasped in front of her, looking around uncertainly. Mike watched Ori's mother's eyes narrow as she forgot all about him in the presence of this new threat.
Julie walked towards the casket.
Mike loved Julie in a completely platonic way, mostly, and was deeply concerned about her happiness. So when he heard that Ori had been killed, he knew that he had to come to the funeral, to offer support and comfort, to keep Julie from doing something stupid like throwing herself into the coffin, and, last and shockingly least in terms of moral uprightness, to see if she was considering men on the rebound. Probably fortunately for all concerned, he did not let this last fact show. Now, he moved to intercept Julie and Ori's mother at the coffin.
Even dressed all in black, Julie was a tropical bird to the mourners' crows. Her hair fell in bright copper curls to the waist , and at six foot three she stood a full head taller than any of Ori's relatives. She stopped beside a spray of white flowers and looked down at the body for too long. Then she looked up into the eyes of Ori's mother.
"What happened to her hair?"
The older woman's mouth tightened. "I think that you should leave now."
"She always had such beautiful hair."
Ori's mother puffed herself up for a long speech. "Listen, you, I don't know exactly who you are, but if you're one of Maryanne's little 'friends' you can just turn right around and leave, missy. We are here to mourn the passing of the good, honest girl my daughter was, whether that passing happened yesterday or five years ago. And I know that where she is now, the last thing she needs is a harlot like you soiling what's left of her reputation!"
"What?" Julie focused on the other woman's head for the first time.
"I don't think Maryanne would have wanted you here!"
Julie's flushed deep crimson. She bared her teeth in an animal snarl and breathed, her hair seeming to rise as it stood on end. Mike saw what was coming and tried to head it off.
"Julie--don't--"
It was much too late.
"Who--who--" Julie screamed at the top of her lungs. "WHO THE *FUCK* IS MARYANNE?"
"Just Mike is fine, Ma'am. She was a friend of a friend." Where the hell is Julie?
"I see. And you felt it was...appropriate for you to come here?" Her eyes darted from the streaks of blue in Mike's hair to his green nail polish to his red Doc Marten's.
"I, uh, I just wanted to, uh, pay my respects?"
The outside door opened with a blast of warm air, like a relief. Julie stood, hands clasped in front of her, looking around uncertainly. Mike watched Ori's mother's eyes narrow as she forgot all about him in the presence of this new threat.
Julie walked towards the casket.
Mike loved Julie in a completely platonic way, mostly, and was deeply concerned about her happiness. So when he heard that Ori had been killed, he knew that he had to come to the funeral, to offer support and comfort, to keep Julie from doing something stupid like throwing herself into the coffin, and, last and shockingly least in terms of moral uprightness, to see if she was considering men on the rebound. Probably fortunately for all concerned, he did not let this last fact show. Now, he moved to intercept Julie and Ori's mother at the coffin.
Even dressed all in black, Julie was a tropical bird to the mourners' crows. Her hair fell in bright copper curls to the waist , and at six foot three she stood a full head taller than any of Ori's relatives. She stopped beside a spray of white flowers and looked down at the body for too long. Then she looked up into the eyes of Ori's mother.
"What happened to her hair?"
The older woman's mouth tightened. "I think that you should leave now."
"She always had such beautiful hair."
Ori's mother puffed herself up for a long speech. "Listen, you, I don't know exactly who you are, but if you're one of Maryanne's little 'friends' you can just turn right around and leave, missy. We are here to mourn the passing of the good, honest girl my daughter was, whether that passing happened yesterday or five years ago. And I know that where she is now, the last thing she needs is a harlot like you soiling what's left of her reputation!"
"What?" Julie focused on the other woman's head for the first time.
"I don't think Maryanne would have wanted you here!"
Julie's flushed deep crimson. She bared her teeth in an animal snarl and breathed, her hair seeming to rise as it stood on end. Mike saw what was coming and tried to head it off.
"Julie--don't--"
It was much too late.
"Who--who--" Julie screamed at the top of her lungs. "WHO THE *FUCK* IS MARYANNE?"