Chapter 13
The funeral was held two days later. Sango's family flew to DC where there was a memorial service. The place was packed: even the president came to say farewell to the nation's best spy. If she hadn't been crying so much, Sango would have stopped to realize how many people around her she didn't know. Her father's mother and father were there, and his sisters and brothers, but none of her mother's side of the family was there.
There was a ceremony before he was buried, where fifteen or so people got up to say something about Sango's father. Here, she almost halfway listened. She may have been horribly upset, but she figured now was the best time to learn about her father. It was almost as if he was a completely different person. Apparently, her father had looked death in the eye on more than one occasion. He had been to Iraq, Africa, Paris, Japan, and many other places she had never even heard of. All these men had gone with him, and it almost made her cry to think that they knew him better than his own daughter.
Many of the men and women gave Sango's mother flowers and said their respects. Kohaku and Sango sat next to their mother, silently crying and holding onto each other. Sango's mother hadn't cried much; she was in too much shock.
After the funeral, they were invited to the White House for dinner where they were served plate upon plate of food, but only a few bites were really eaten.
The next day, the three of them flew back home, where they picked up their lives from where they were. Kohaku went back to school the next day, and Sango's mother went back to work. Sango, on the other hand, went into denial, pulling her punk wardrobe out of the back of the closet and told her mother she was walking to school each day, though she would walk halfway there and back, crawling into the garage and hanging out at home the whole day, eating only potato chips and Dr. Pepper.
Of course, her mother found out the third day, but let Sango continue for she felt like doing the exact same thing.
Every day, the phone would ring ten times after school let out. Every day, Sango would get a full bow of emails. Every day, a new letter would come. Every day, Sango got more and more happy with the idea of staying at home for the rest of her life.
After a week, Sango got fed up with the never-ending phone calls. She got onto her mother's computer and sent out an email to Miroku and Kagome. It read:
Miroku, Kagome, and anyone else who I know will find this email:
I am alone,
Too hard to find. Dead to the world,
I need time to unwind.
Rescue me not,
For I will ignore. You could say I was out to sea,
Without an oar.
I may be depressed,
I may be crazy. But die I will not,
So please leave me be.
My ears are plugged shut,
In circles I run. But rescue me not,
It will not be fun.
*** Guys, look, I'm not dead, I just need a while alone. The phone line is going off. I will not check email or the mailbox anymore. One thing I will let you know is that I am not suicidal, and if anything happens, you will find out. Love ya,
Sango *****
Sango pressed the send button and sighed, knowing this wouldn't stop the letters. But now she couldn't say she didn't try. She dragged her feet up the stairs and into her room and onto her bed, where she slept until the next morning.
*****
"Bye mom." Sango kissed her mother's cheek and walked out the door. Fifteen minutes later, Sango was back in her mother's room, checking her email. Nothing. Only bulk mail. Sango was in a better mood, and she figured: what the heck? So she checked her bulk mail. And to her surprise, it was a forwarded email that's title read: FW: fw: Love Card for Sango. Sango's eyes widened as she clicked on the card. The computer took thirty seconds [if you think about it, that's pretty long to open an email. Try opening an email on a DSL and it only takes five second at the most.] To open the whole email, that was covered with signings. The original message at the very bottom read:
The Director of the CIA died, and left his wife and two children behind. Many of us were good friends with their dad and his wife, but never really knew his daughter or his son. I didn't even know he had a son until the funeral. Anyway, his daughter's name is Sango, and she was very, very special to her father. He never, ever stopped talking about her. So I sign and send this email to someone I know will sign it to. Hopefully he will know who to send it to. Do not send it to more than one person. Just sign it and send it to someone who you know will send it. Hopefully, one day, Sango will get this email.
Signed,
George W. Bush
President of the United States
Sango gasped. Over two hundred signatures were signed with their own little notes of encouragement. And at the top of the list were Miroku and Kagome's signatures. A tear came to Sango's eye and she stormed out of the house, grabbing her backpack and running the four blocks to school. She didn't even realize she was still in her pajamas. She just had to see him.
She ran into the school and through the cafeteria to that same table in the corner where she and Miroku had sat ever since they started going out. There Miroku sat, with Kagome next to him, both of them eating in silence. They never saw her coming.
Sango tackled Miroku, and they both flew onto the cafeteria floor. Sango hugged Miroku as she landed on top of him, burying her head in his shoulder.
"Sango, what are you doing?" Miroku gasped, barely able to breathe for the breath was knocked out of him and Sango wasn't the lightest person in the world, what with a strict diet of Dr. Pepper and chips for a week. He managed to hug her, but she rolled off him anyway, only to be tackled by Kagome.
"SANGO!" Kagome squished her much like she did Miroku, and now there was a small crowd around the three of them. When Kagome finally let go of Sango, they all sat there, one of them in her pajamas, talking and laughing and hugging. Thirty minutes later, the three walked back to Sango's house hand in hand, Sango in the middle, of course. They hung out there the rest of the day, and Sango's dad wasn't mentioned. It wasn't that he was forgotten, he would never be forgotten, but Sango had had enough time to mourn and now all she needed was her friends.
The funeral was held two days later. Sango's family flew to DC where there was a memorial service. The place was packed: even the president came to say farewell to the nation's best spy. If she hadn't been crying so much, Sango would have stopped to realize how many people around her she didn't know. Her father's mother and father were there, and his sisters and brothers, but none of her mother's side of the family was there.
There was a ceremony before he was buried, where fifteen or so people got up to say something about Sango's father. Here, she almost halfway listened. She may have been horribly upset, but she figured now was the best time to learn about her father. It was almost as if he was a completely different person. Apparently, her father had looked death in the eye on more than one occasion. He had been to Iraq, Africa, Paris, Japan, and many other places she had never even heard of. All these men had gone with him, and it almost made her cry to think that they knew him better than his own daughter.
Many of the men and women gave Sango's mother flowers and said their respects. Kohaku and Sango sat next to their mother, silently crying and holding onto each other. Sango's mother hadn't cried much; she was in too much shock.
After the funeral, they were invited to the White House for dinner where they were served plate upon plate of food, but only a few bites were really eaten.
The next day, the three of them flew back home, where they picked up their lives from where they were. Kohaku went back to school the next day, and Sango's mother went back to work. Sango, on the other hand, went into denial, pulling her punk wardrobe out of the back of the closet and told her mother she was walking to school each day, though she would walk halfway there and back, crawling into the garage and hanging out at home the whole day, eating only potato chips and Dr. Pepper.
Of course, her mother found out the third day, but let Sango continue for she felt like doing the exact same thing.
Every day, the phone would ring ten times after school let out. Every day, Sango would get a full bow of emails. Every day, a new letter would come. Every day, Sango got more and more happy with the idea of staying at home for the rest of her life.
After a week, Sango got fed up with the never-ending phone calls. She got onto her mother's computer and sent out an email to Miroku and Kagome. It read:
Miroku, Kagome, and anyone else who I know will find this email:
I am alone,
Too hard to find. Dead to the world,
I need time to unwind.
Rescue me not,
For I will ignore. You could say I was out to sea,
Without an oar.
I may be depressed,
I may be crazy. But die I will not,
So please leave me be.
My ears are plugged shut,
In circles I run. But rescue me not,
It will not be fun.
*** Guys, look, I'm not dead, I just need a while alone. The phone line is going off. I will not check email or the mailbox anymore. One thing I will let you know is that I am not suicidal, and if anything happens, you will find out. Love ya,
Sango *****
Sango pressed the send button and sighed, knowing this wouldn't stop the letters. But now she couldn't say she didn't try. She dragged her feet up the stairs and into her room and onto her bed, where she slept until the next morning.
*****
"Bye mom." Sango kissed her mother's cheek and walked out the door. Fifteen minutes later, Sango was back in her mother's room, checking her email. Nothing. Only bulk mail. Sango was in a better mood, and she figured: what the heck? So she checked her bulk mail. And to her surprise, it was a forwarded email that's title read: FW: fw: Love Card for Sango. Sango's eyes widened as she clicked on the card. The computer took thirty seconds [if you think about it, that's pretty long to open an email. Try opening an email on a DSL and it only takes five second at the most.] To open the whole email, that was covered with signings. The original message at the very bottom read:
The Director of the CIA died, and left his wife and two children behind. Many of us were good friends with their dad and his wife, but never really knew his daughter or his son. I didn't even know he had a son until the funeral. Anyway, his daughter's name is Sango, and she was very, very special to her father. He never, ever stopped talking about her. So I sign and send this email to someone I know will sign it to. Hopefully he will know who to send it to. Do not send it to more than one person. Just sign it and send it to someone who you know will send it. Hopefully, one day, Sango will get this email.
Signed,
George W. Bush
President of the United States
Sango gasped. Over two hundred signatures were signed with their own little notes of encouragement. And at the top of the list were Miroku and Kagome's signatures. A tear came to Sango's eye and she stormed out of the house, grabbing her backpack and running the four blocks to school. She didn't even realize she was still in her pajamas. She just had to see him.
She ran into the school and through the cafeteria to that same table in the corner where she and Miroku had sat ever since they started going out. There Miroku sat, with Kagome next to him, both of them eating in silence. They never saw her coming.
Sango tackled Miroku, and they both flew onto the cafeteria floor. Sango hugged Miroku as she landed on top of him, burying her head in his shoulder.
"Sango, what are you doing?" Miroku gasped, barely able to breathe for the breath was knocked out of him and Sango wasn't the lightest person in the world, what with a strict diet of Dr. Pepper and chips for a week. He managed to hug her, but she rolled off him anyway, only to be tackled by Kagome.
"SANGO!" Kagome squished her much like she did Miroku, and now there was a small crowd around the three of them. When Kagome finally let go of Sango, they all sat there, one of them in her pajamas, talking and laughing and hugging. Thirty minutes later, the three walked back to Sango's house hand in hand, Sango in the middle, of course. They hung out there the rest of the day, and Sango's dad wasn't mentioned. It wasn't that he was forgotten, he would never be forgotten, but Sango had had enough time to mourn and now all she needed was her friends.