August 5, 2003

The remnants of tears stain my face. They dried hours ago, but the feeling still lingers as a reminder of my sadness. The past two days I have mostly been stuck in a numb trance. Time flows by without me noticing. My thoughts remain non existent, except for the random bouts of silent crying that appear every few hours. I haven't wanted to eat anything, but Nick always forces me to eat a small amount each day. The tone surrounding the rest of the group is somber. On the outside Luke seems to be holding himself together well; on the inside I imagine he is falling apart.

In a moment of clarity I decide that my parents need to be honored. The world as I once knew it is gone, but my parents still deserve a funeral service.

I stumble out of the RV to find the rest of the group shocked to see me come outside on my own free will. Their eyes hold signs of their own sadness and pity for me.

"I want to hold a funeral for my parents. I know we don't have their bodies to bury, but they deserve to be honored," I say.

They stare at me for a moment, surprised and unsure of what to say, until Pete speaks, "I think that's a great idea. I can put together some wooden crosses for them if you'd like…"

"I'd like that, thanks," I say. "Somebody come get me when it's time."

Luke tries to get my attention, but I purposely ignore his calls and Nick's pleading eyes as I lock myself in the RV.

Time ticks by, but I have no idea how long I sit in the RV. Eventually I hear a gentle knock on the door. By the light taps I can tell whoever is on the other side is trying to be empathetic. I heave myself toward the door and unlatch it ever so slightly. I peak through the cracked door to see Nick, who is exactly who I expected to see.

"Hey, Bea. We're ready whenever you are." His hands are in his pockets. He speaks softly, like he's afraid I'll break down at any moment.

He leads me to the others, his hand hovering behind my back. They stand in a circle with their attention grasped on the ground in front of a large oak tree. My presence becomes known by them and they part from their formation to allow me to see what they were looking at. At the base of the tree are two handcrafted crosses planted into the ground. The left one reads Bethany, while the one on the right reads Patrick. Directly in front of them lies a pile of wildflowers, likely Martha's doing. Blinker is in a deep slumber next to the makeshift grave sight. He hasn't been the same as the puppy I once knew for several months, but he's grown even weaker in the short time since my parents died.

"Should we say something?" Luke breaks the somber silence.

"Yeah, we should. But I don't want to go first," I tell him.

"Maybe we could all go around and say something about them? I can start, and Bea can go last," Luke says, looking around the group to see the rest of us nodding in agreement.

"I don't know if anything I can say about them will be able to do them justice, but I'll try my best," he starts. "Growing up on a farm in the middle of nowhere of course you'd expect me to be close to my parents. But I wasn't close with them just because of that. I was close with them because they were the best parents and people to ever live. That sounds like a pretty crazy claim, but it's true and I've known it's true since I was really young. No matter what we seemed to do as kids, they never seemed to get that mad. I could break something or not do a chore right and I would be so scared to get yelled at. But they never yelled unless I really deserved it. Mom would use it as a learning moment, and Dad would use a joke to help me learn to do better next time. I really learned a lot that way, and I'm thankful for it. I don't know where or who I would have been if I had different parents. I don't even want to think about that. I just… can't believe they're really gone. I made a promise when I was a kid that I would always protect my little sister, and I'll always keep it. So just… rest in peace, Mom and Dad."

The last of Luke's words fade out as he claps his hand over his face to hide his tears. Pete squeezes his shoulder to steady him. Luke's words and his actions provoke me to sob. Nick pulls me into his side for comfort.

The next few minutes pass with the sound of my vociferous cries being the only thing able to be heard. I eventually calm myself down and release Nick's shirt from my tight grip. His shirt is soaked with my tears.

Pete speaks up next, "I always had friends, but I never really had a best friend. That all changed when we moved across the street from Pat and Bethany. Pat and I gave each other shit, but he truly was my best friend. Bethany truly was the perfect person for him; she was able to put up with all his jokes. Working with the both of them on the farm brought me so many good memories. I'm sorry I never let Pat beat me at poker. You know, he wasn't half bad."

Pete's speech makes me smile instead of cry. He knows my dad was terrible at poker, but he gave my dad some credit.

Martha begins her speech, "Before we moved to the country, I was just getting by and living life for my son. I worked so hard everyday just to come home to a deadbeat that didn't treat me or my son right. When Pete finally convinced me to move to the countryside I figured I would just get a job in the next town over and continue just getting by. I felt like a horrible mother, like I couldn't provide my son with a good life. Within minutes of moving in, the sweet little family from across the street came to introduce themselves. The kids became best friends with my son; they were the first kids his age to actually be nice to him. The parents offered Pete and I both to work on their farm. I was so thankful to them. Pete and I got to relive our childhood memories of working on a farm, and my son got to have that experience too. Bethany was especially good to me. I could tell that woman anything, and she'd never judge. She helped me realize my true potential, and that the past wasn't my fault. The two of them were a blessing in my life, and I can't thank them enough."

Nick releases his grip on me momentarily to hug his own mother who is in tears. After she wipes them away he starts his own speech.

"Before we moved to the countryside I didn't get to do a lot of fun stuff. I didn't have any friends, we didn't have a lot of money, and my mom was always working. When we moved I got to see another perspective of things. My mom still had to work a lot, but I actually got to work with her. And she actually was able to attend my school functions. We still weren't rich, but I got to experience going on a vacation. Of course I was kind of a hassle as a kid. I was such an idiot at times, and I got so mad at myself sometimes. Pat and Bethany never got mad at me. They both were always so encouraging. It was hard to be upset while in their presence. Not only were they great people, they also created two of the coolest people I know."

He provides me with a small, supportive smile. I take a deep breath and prepare myself to speak.

"My mom and dad were the most unique people I ever met. They rarely got frustrated or mad, even with my 'wandering off' problem I had when I was young. Every time I would wander off I would get scared they would be mad at me when I was found. Every time they found me they would express how glad they were that I was okay. Of course I always had some sort of punishment, but they never yelled. I think that ultimately why I stopped wandering off- because I felt so bad for making them worried. Not one person on this planet hated my parents. Every single person they came into contact with loved to be around them. They provided everything for me, both physically and mentally. My dad could cheer me up no matter what. My mom would keep any secret I told her. I really can't believe they're gone. It happened so fast, and my body just made a decision. They were in so much pain, so I did the hardest thing I'll ever have to do. That decision will haunt me forever, but I think it was the right thing to do. They did everything for me my entire life, so I had to do that one thing for them no matter the emotional toll. I don't know where they are, but I hope they're somewhere nice. I'm going to have to find a way to live without them, because I know they wouldn't be happy to see me moping around for the rest of my life. I love you, Mom and Dad."

I'm surprised and honestly proud of myself that I managed to not cry at all. When I step back to my spot next to Nick, everyone's eyes are on me. They likely were expecting a break down. Their eyes full of pity are just too much to handle. I glance around the gravesite once more before walking back to the RV, my steps rapid. Once inside, I take deep breaths to calm myself. I appreciate their support, but I need some time alone to process recent events.

A few minutes pass, and I manage to get my breathing under control. I hear the door open; this time the person doesn't bother to knock. I already know who it is without looking.

As I sit against the wall my eyes examine a stain on the carpet. Nick is silently standing by my side.

"You remember that stain?" I ask.

Nick struggles to view the faded stain. "No, not really."

"I do," I say. "I was fourteen. You were fifteen. We were on a camping trip. We were all planning to go on a hike one evening, but you refused. Your mom tried to force you to come, but you just wouldn't budge. Pete said to just leave you behind if you were gonna' act like that. Luke convinced me to come with everyone, otherwise I would've stayed with you. Somehow you got a hold of some whiskey. I think you bought it off of some college kid that was camping nearby. You were really drunk when we got back. Pete was so pissed. He tried grabbing the bottle from you, but it fell. The last few drinks stained the carpet. He was even more mad that you had soiled his precious RV. I stayed up half the night scrubbing the hell out of that stain so that he wouldn't be so mad at you. That's why it's so faded."

"Jesus… I think there's a reason why I tried to block that memory out. Why'd you randomly think about it?"

"I'm sorry. I just saw the stain and I thought about it for some reason." I feel like a jerk for bringing it up. That time period was rough for Nick, and it was wrong of me to remind him.

"No, don't be sorry. Fuck, I was a real terror as a teenager, wasn't I? I'm surprised anyone put up with me." He slides down the wall into a sitting position next to me.

"That time period was really rough for you. I mean for weeks before that trip your dad kept contacting you, harassing you, and asking for money. The worst part is you never even told your mom or Pete. They would've been more understanding if they'd known."

"No," Nick insists. "They didn't need to know. My mom would just get all depressed and Pete would get all pissed. But yeah, my fucking prick of a dad doesn't talk to me for nine years and then out of the blue acts like I owe him something? Fuck that. That night I got drunk was a blur, but that was the first time I ever drank. Of course I stupidly started using it as a coping mechanism after that day."

His clenched fists and angrily contorted face force me to intervene. My hand glides over his, and almost instantly his fist is unclenched and our fingers are intertwined. They fit together perfectly; they always have.

"I am really sorry for bringing it up. It was dumb, but I wasn't thinking super clear for a minute."

"Really, Bea, don't worry about it," he reassures me with his beautiful smile. "I just came to check on you. Everyone is kinda' worried, you know?"

I scoff. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'll be sad, but I'll get over it. I just need some time to process, and I feel kind of awkward when I do it in front of everyone."

He takes his hand away from mine and stands, although I wish he would stay. "That's good to hear. I should go tell the others, so they don't worry."

I get to my feet and stand in front of him. The top of my head doesn't even reach his shoulders. I do a combination of standing on the tip of my toes and pulling him down to my height. He corporates wholeheartedly, allowing me to plant a kiss of his cheek. When I pull back, I can see in his eyes that he wanted more. I want more as well, but the both of us know that we can't.

"What was that for?"

"A thank you. For everything." I tell him.

He smiles, making my heart flutter. "Don't mention it. And thank you, Bea. You've had to put up with a lot of shit from me. I appreciate it so much, especially the fact that you went through the trouble of trying to clean up that stain. You never told me about that until today. I don't know what I would do without you."

I wink at him. "Don't mention it."