A fluffy funeral chapter - strange but true...


The funeral was supposed to take place at 11 am and Patrick had arranged with his grandparents to be there an hour early to prepare the chapel together with the undertaker. Apart from the family, the team, and Andy and his wife, he didn't expect anybody else to come, though after the events from Friday night he anticipated the local media would make an appearance.

When Patrick and Teresa arrived in her car at 9:45, the cemetery was crowded with people. They presumed that another funeral was taking place until he spotted Pete and Sam. "I'll be damned," he exclaimed. "There's a whole bunch of carnies out there. And here I thought Alex had managed to alienate just about everyone." He shook his head and sighed.

Lisbon squeezed his hand and they left the car. Before long Patrick was surrounded by dozens of illustrious people hugging him, shaking his hand, and wishing him well, all of which he greeted warmly. "Thank you guys. It's really very nice of you all to show up. I'm sure Alex would have appreciated it. Thanks for coming."

Pete chimed in and explained, with affirmative nods from the rest of the crowd, "We're not here for Alex, Patrick. We're here for you."

"Yeah," a small old man with a long beard agreed. "Ye know carnies never meddle in other carnies' affairs, but Alex never did right by you, boy."

Consenting murmurs could be heard. "Ye not s'posed to speak ill of the dead, but ye dad wasn't a good man, Paddy," a matronly woman declared. Teresa recognized her as the one who'd gifted her with a delicious candy apple during their fateful visit to the carnival two weeks ago.

Patrick looked completely overwhelmed. "I don't know what to say. Thanks, I'm really touched," he said honestly. "I thought since I left you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me anymore and…"

Another carnie interrupted him. Lisbon was rather sure he owned one of the rides she'd been on. "Nah, Jane. You had to get away from your old man. And that Ruskin girl of yours was never cut out for carnie life anyway. I told her granddad that all the time. She was a smart one, not made for manning ferris wheels or something like that."

"Though I'm not sure about you and that cop lady," Sam chimed in with a critical look.

Patrick put an arm around Teresa's waist and pulled her close, his expression turning hard and cold, "None of your business, Sam. I love her and I won't accept anybody giving her a hard time. If you can't deal with that you better leave."

A murmur went through the crowd after this, but no one left. On the contrary, statements like "About time he moved on," could be heard.

"Mr. Jane? Mr. Jane?" a nervous voice could be heard.

"Ah, Mr. Sterling. Good morning," Patrick greeted the undertaker who'd just managed to get to him through the crowd.

"Mr. Jane, are all those people here for your late father's funeral?" the portly gray-haired man inquired. Patrick nodded. "But you said it would be a very small service? Should I try to organize additional seating arrangements?"

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I didn't expect that many people to come. If you could arrange something, I would be most obliged. Can I assist in any way?" Jane asked politely.

"Your grandparents just arrived, Mr. Jane. You probably didn't see them. I hardly recognized you amongst all your guests either. I don't want to intrude on your reunion with your friends here, but it would probably be a good idea if you accompanied me to the chapel now," the undertaker suggested courteously.

"Yes of course, Mr. Sterling." He turned to the crowd. "Sorry, guys. I have to leave for now. I hope we get the chance to catch up later."


Inside the chapel Jonathan and Elisa were waiting for them. "Who are all those people, Patrick?" his grandfather asked curiously.

"Just some folks from, well, you know. My former life," Patrick answered bashfully. He turned on his heels and headed over to the undertaker in a hurry to help him placing additional chairs in the room.

Teresa shook her head at her lover's behavior. "He still thinks you have a problem with his unorthodox upbringing amongst carnies." She pointed outside. "They've all come to support him. I think it's rather touching. I guess Patrick's afraid you won't like it," she tried to explain.

"But that's wonderful," Elisa said. "Even though it's still rather strange to imagine Alex and Patrick as traveling people, it's fitting for the occasion, isn't it? It's been our son's chosen way of life after all."


By the time 11 o'clock had arrived the chapel was brimming with people. In addition to the carnies, a lot of CBI employees had found their way there, including agents from other teams and all sorts of maintenance staff. Somewhere in the back she was sure she'd spotted Madeleine Hightower and Teresa recognized quite a few people from cases they'd worked, as well as some folks from the DA's office to her great surprise. She even identified Sam and Harriet, the owners of the Fir Tree, in the crowd. Unfortunately the media was also present and, to Patrick's utter shock and dismay, Director Bertram himself had made an appearance as well, probably for PR reasons.

The first row was occupied solely by close friends and family. Apart from the Janes and Teresa, Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt sat there, Andy and Sheila as well, together with Danny Ruskin, who'd also shown up to Patrick's complete astonishment.

The service had been meant to be short and low key, the only personal elements being Elisa and Mary playing Brahm's Cradle-song on the violin and the piano and Jonathan saying a few words. The last part had turned out to be the highlight of the whole affair because his speech had been followed by roaring applause - a rather unusual occurrence during a funeral service – first initiated by some of the carnies, but carried on by most of the guests in the end:

"Good morning, everybody," Jonathan started, standing in front of the crowd. "I think it's safe to say that we're all a bit overwhelmed by the many people who're gathered here today. We didn't expect it at all, or rather my wife and I didn't have any idea what to expect and our grandson here didn't warn us about the fact that he had so many friends and acquaintances." He cast a fond smile at Patrick. This caused some choked down snickers.

The oldest Jane cleared his throat and continued carefully, "I know that this is supposed to be a time and place to remember Alexander Jane, my oldest son, and recognize and celebrate his life and achievements. However, I have a hard time finding the right words."

He sighed. "For over four decades I didn't know where he was and what he was doing or whether he was still alive at all because he decided to leave his home at the age of 19 and cut all ties to his family. Our history is a troubled one. We only ever heard about him again two weeks ago and that was when we learnt about his violent death." He paused a moment, taking in the silent, attentive crowd.

Releasing a deep breath, he went on, "It's hard for a father to say it, especially on the day of his funeral, but my son Alexander wasn't a good man." A lot of murmurs erupted after that, and Jonathan stood up even straighter than before and said in a firm, strong voice, "I can't and I won't stand here in front of you and lie about his great deeds and many accomplishments because many of you knew him and wouldn't believe me anyway." Affirmative whispers were audible. "He didn't, however, deserve to die the way he did, violently at the hands of a man who has caused my grandson so much grief and heartache already."

He paused again to collect himself, before he continued with a warmer expression on his face. "And there is in fact one positive thing to mention about Alexander, one great deed of his, if you want. A wondrous one, that has helped my wife Elisa and me to deal with this whole tragedy. During this time of grief we've been granted a great gift. The best we could possibly wish for and even more appreciated because it was so totally unexpected." He took a step forward at that and placed a hand on Patrick's shoulder. "We've been blessed with getting to know a wonderful man, our grandson Patrick. And because of him I'll be able to remember my son Alexander James Jane in a favorable light. Thank you."

That's when the applause had started and to Patrick's utter consternation and embarrassment even cheers with his name could be heard. "Please shoot me now," he muttered in Teresa's direction, but she'd just snickered quietly and squeezed his hand discreetly, not daring to show open affection in front of so many CBI people. He then glared at his grandfather, who'd retaken his seat by Patrick's side. "How could you?" he spat at him under his breath. "This is a nightmare. There's even media present."

But Jonathan only patted his thigh and answered, completely unperturbed, "I only told the truth, son. And it seems like the crowd agrees with me."

Andy got up from his chair at that point and announced, "As our Patrick here couldn't be bothered to arrange something I've taken the liberty to do so for him: there'll be a funeral party at the Fir Tree starting in one hour. You're all welcome to join us there, well, not the media, sorry folks."

Another round of applause and cheers followed and the undertaker stood by in obvious discomposure.

"That sounds like fun," Elisa said quietly to her husband. She'd needed a few minutes to regain her poise after her husband's speech and in light of her son's funeral. The whole affair had finally caught up with her and she'd been more affected than she'd expected. But the developments of the last minutes had helped her deal with it. "This is by far the most unusual service I've been to," she added. "It's strangely fitting, isn't it?" she asked him.

"I couldn't agree more, Elly. I guess I got a bit carried away myself. But I was so touched by the fact that so many people have come to show Patrick their respect. It's good for him to see this. You want us to join the party?" She nodded eagerly. "Me too."


As soon as the service was over the media surrounded Patrick like vultures. "How are you feeling about Red John killing your father, Patrick?" was just one of the most prominent questions fired at him. But he refused to say a word. They turned their attention to Teresa instead. "Agent Lisbon? Have you heard that one hour ago the Department of Justice removed Gale Bertram from his position as CBI's Director effective immediately? Any comments?"

She just shook her head and tried to steer clear of the crowd, which grew more and more intrusive, until Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt stepped in and formed a protective wall around their teammates, assisted by agents from other units. They escorted Lisbon and Jane to their car and were thanked profusely by them.

That Bertram had been present at the service turned out to be a blessing in disguise because he caught the attention of the media immediately afterwards considering he'd just been fired, and so no one cared to bother the Janes or other guests.


The party at the Fir Tree turned into a memorable event for everyone present. All the carnies had joined and quite a few CBI people, as well as the entire remaining Jane family. There were musicians, jugglers, magicians, and other artists amongst the variegated crowd, so there were little show acts going on everywhere. Alcohol was flowing freely, so spirits were high, but only in a cheery way.

Patrick had a blast and was the heart of the party. And those who'd only known him during recent years had never seen him so unguarded. After a few beers he lost his suit jacket, unbuttoned his vest, and rolled up his sleeves. Another beer later he let himself be dragged onto the impromptu stage that some of the carnies had set up with the pub owner's help, and jammed merrily away on a borrowed contrabass together with a bunch of other musicians. Even his grandmother joined in with her violin after some prodding from her other grandchildren and to the vocal cheers of the crowd, and more and more people started to dance.

Jonathan and Matthew enjoyed themselves as well and learnt quite a bit about both Alex' and Patrick's lives that day. They were amazed at the friendly welcome they got everywhere. Most of the carnies seemed to be unusually inclined to include everyone into the party, which led to some pretty strange conversations considering the normally very strained relationship between them and members of law enforcement.

Especially notable were the – futile - attempts of no less than five clowns to make Cho laugh and Danny Ruskin's desperate efforts to teach Rigsby how to pick pockets, which in the end succeeded, where the clowns had failed: it made Cho shake with laughter, doubtlessly helped along by a few drinks.

Other momentous events were the time when Samantha came over to Teresa and brought her a tequila with a friendly nod, and when Paul plucked up his courage and gave a little magic show of his own supported by several professional magicians who'd coached him beforehand (Jack Hellion amongst them), after Patrick had introduced his cousin to them.


All in all, everybody had a good time and most of the attendees ended up more or less squiffy. Sam and Harriet threw them all out at eleven pm, and considering their inebriated state, Patrick and Teresa took a cab home after loud and cheery goodbyes from the others.

Patrick was in fact completely wasted and was giggling the whole way home. She had a very hard time getting him inside because he was rather unsteady on his legs and insisted they should go and party some more.

She couldn't really be mad with him, though he was taxing her patience even more than usual. But this was the first time she'd seen him that way, and she was extremely glad to realize he was a very friendly and cute drunk, rather than a violent and rude one. That would have been a real problem for her considering her past experiences with a violent alcoholic for a father. Well, actually, she had seen him drunk once before, when they'd worked the Santa-Clause-killer-case. But he'd been much more in control back then. Still, he'd been just as sweet that time, so chances were that this was his usual behavior when inebriated.

At the moment Patrick was happily prattling away about this and that, waxing poetic about the prettiness of the most absurd things like street lights and picket fences, concluding with the verdict that his 'Tre-se-se-sa's' beauty still overshadowed everything else and that he was the 'luckiest-est' man in the world. One could hardly stay annoyed with a guy talking like that…

By the time she'd finally convinced him that the only other party tonight would be the one taking place inside their home, nearly twenty minutes had gone by since they'd left the cab only a block away. Though she wasn't really sober herself, she was in complete control of her faculties and managed to make some tea and got him to drink two mugs before he went out like a light on the couch. She took off his shoes, pushed him over, and pulled up his legs so he was at least reclining, put a huge glass of water and a bottle with pain relievers on the coffee table, covered him with a comforter, ruffled his hair lovingly, and gave him a goodnight kiss on his cheek, which made him smile in his sleep.


TBC

Reviews are like an inebriated Jane - a sure way to put a smile on my face... and I won't even suffer from a hang-over (though Jane might...).