Chapter Fourteen – Day Nine, Day Time

We are still holding hands as we walk towards the church listening to the funeral bells. Wheeler tenses when I mention Uncle Dimitri, and though I point out that he was fine with us after the ceremony - even if he was embarrassed by his earlier outburst - he quickly changes the subject.

Grandmuska is walking beside us. She seems quiet and sad, I know it is only natural but it makes me feel worse to see her like that and I wish again that Mishka were here for her, not for me, I have my Yankee.

Unconsciously, I squeeze his hand, only realising what I did when he returns the gesture, and turns his head to give me a smile.

The bells make a beautiful sound but it is a mournful one, intended to express sorrow and grief over the loss of the deceased. All this is supposed to help us, but I can feel a slow depression creeping over me and I think, the beginnings of a headache.

I wonder now if this was a mistake, especially after last night. I was so adamant about coming here, regardless of the personal cost, but it was Wheeler that ended up picking up the pieces. That is not fair to him, especially since he also has to deal with his own memories of James...

I chew on my bottom lip as I try to deal with the guilt I am feeling, completely lost in my own thoughts, and so I am surprised when Wheeler suddenly drops my hand. Instead, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me against his side. "You don't have to do this."

I swallow. "I do but... you do not. It was selfish of me to ask you, I know it is bringing back bad memories."

He looks down at me, not speaking for a moment as he searches my eyes, for what? If I am really okay with him not coming in? I am if that is what he needs to do.

"But you still want me with you right?" He asks as if he is just checking, but I see the anxiety in his eyes.

"Always..." I reply instinctively and then try to cover my embarrassment "I mean, why would I not want you with me? We are good friends Da?"

"Da." His eyes clear and he gives me a squeeze. "Don't worry about me Babe, I'm fine and I'm not going anywhere."

I hear Grandmuska chuckle quietly at our conversation and my cheeks flush. I dare not look at her and I walk on in silence until Wheeler asks me a question.

"Hey Babe, does the number of domes and color of the dome mean anything?"

I cannot help being please that he noticed, I have sometimes thought that he does not pay attention to what is going on around him… I am glad I was wrong. "Da. Very observant of you Yankee!"

"I told you, I couldn't wait to see the difference…so what's it mean?" He actually sounds interested, but I will try to keep the explanation short so as not to bore him.

"For example on this church, one dome symbolizes Jesus, as does the gold color. Some churches, you will see three domes which symbolize the Holy Trinity…green domes also signify the Holy Trinity. Blue domes mean the Spirit of God and you will see black domes in monasteries."

"Cool. Thanks."

"You are welcome…"I tell him, pleased by his response. "Just wait until you see the inside!"

"We must buy a candle and place it in the stands in memory of Boris." I whisper as we enter the church. In fact we should buy one each but I will not ask my friend to do that. He surprises me again though, by buying one anyway.

My cousin's body has already been brought here, the coffin having been placed in the middle of the church with its lid removed so that we may look on him as we stand around it during the ceremony.

The mourners that have already arrived are mostly friends and they move aside to let us stand closer, being family. I know paranoia is a symptom of the withdrawal and I try not to let it take hold, but I could swear they are staring at me.

Uncle Dimitri is standing beside the coffin, gazing down at his only child with tears streaming from his eyes.

I want to comfort him but as I move forward, Wheeler places a restraining hand on my arm and shakes his head. I hesitate for a moment, still torn by indecision until my grandmother nods and whispers. "Listen to him, your uncle is not yet ready to forgive."

I swallow and nod my acquiescence but my insides are still in turmoil. I do not want to create a scene but at the same time I want to scream at my uncle, demand that he forgive me, tell him that he is the one who should be apologizing for what his son did to me, and cry with him for what we have both lost.

Instead, I stand there in silence with the comforting warmth of Wheelers hand in the small of my back, waiting for Father Koslov to begin the ceremony.

The service begins very formally, and follows the pattern of Saturday Matins.

The melodic chants are so beautiful they lift my heart, but the readings speak of Gods love and forgiveness and I ache with shame that my own heart is inadequate to offer the same.

I wonder if they have the same effect on Wheeler and how much he is understanding. The forms have power, especially here and I do not think anyone who hears them can remain unaffected, even if they do not know the words.

Tears fall down my cheeks unchecked, but that is okay, there is no need to hold my grief in check here, and it would be wrong, even destructive to do so.

Father Koslov is censing the body... Boris… inside the casket as we sing. If we moved forward just a little, I would be able to see my cousin but I am afraid. I will have to though, before this is over, I will have to look on him again.

Now comes the blessing with holy water and the prayer of absolution, which will be placed in Boris' hand...

It feels like it is going on forever.

I held Mishka's arm throughout our Papa's service but it did not seem so long and now that the hymns have given way to scripture readings, I can feel my eyes drooping, what is the matter with me? Oh... the withdrawal... I just hope I can keep it together, I cannot fall asleep or faint here! I do not need anything else to go wrong between me and Uncle Dimitri either.

I reach behind me and take Wheeler's hand, pulling it around me so that I can lean back against him. I know it might look a little inappropriate but I do not care, he is keeping me upright.

"Boris was a good and kind young man." Father Koslov says, to my surprise, in English. "He loved God and he loved his family and those of us who are left behind will miss him dearly."

He continues with stories from my cousin's childhood that he has gathered from friends and family. Each one shows the person we have lost, but even though I remember some of those occasions I am having trouble reconciling it with the young man that betrayed me… I do want to forgive him, if only I could forget.

There is no one here who cannot speak Russian but Wheeler… which means my Uncle must have asked Father Koslov to do it for his sake… except that he would not! I can feel myself getting angry. The only reason for my Uncle to ask for this part of the ceremony to be in English is if he was trying to make a point to Wheeler about how nice Boris was… what could Wheeler have said to him? But it is my Uncle I am annoyed with, how could he use Boris funeral service to get back at my friend… and me?

I look up at Uncle Dimitri and I know my feelings are written on my face. So are his, they are of contempt… bozhe 'moy how can he? I suppose I must accept that it is not just my cousin I have lost… I give an involuntary sob at the thought and Wheeler tightens his grip comfortingly.

Koslov leads us in a prayer for Boris resurrection and eternal life and I breathe a sigh of relief that it is almost over. Except that the worst is yet to come.

As the Father calls us to come and say a final good bye, I step out of Wheelers reach and join my Grandmother at the side of the coffin. I know she is hurting too and I want to comfort her, but I do not have the strength.

Wheeler's hand is in the small of my back again, I guess he followed me. I am glad he stayed close.

Boris looks so peaceful laying there, just asleep as we say, and now he is my little cousin again… the one that followed me around and tried so hard to please, and the one who did his best to cheer me up when I was alone and hurting.

I can feel my tears begin to fall anew as I lean down to place a kiss on his cheek, goodbye Boris, be at peace.

As I straighten up again Wheeler's hand moves to my shoulder, his thumb rubbing the base of my neck and sending chills down my spin. It is not enough to relax me but I feel my muscles begin respond... I could really use a massage right now.

I give him a small smile and he runs his hand down my back before taking my hand and lacing our fingers together... I know it was only a friendly gesture but I doubt it looked like that and I can feel my cheeks getting warm.

My grandmother is next to kiss Boris so I step away from the casket without releasing Wheeler's hand.

It never occurred to me that he would pay his last respects to my cousin, so I am surprised when he makes the sign of the cross and says a silent prayer.

I wonder too what my Uncle will make of it and take a surreptitious glance at his face. He is crying but there is a distance in his gaze that suggests his thoughts are far from here. Not that I doubt he is thinking of Boris.

When Wheeler moves away from the coffin I squeeze his hand in a silent thank you. He did not kiss Boris but that does not surprise me, he has very definite ideas about what straight guys do not do... But then maybe he does not realise it is a tradition and not just something I did because he was my cousin.

He is looking at me deeply with that expression he uses when he thinks there is something wrong. Then he lets go of my hand and pulls me close, giving me something to lean against. I did not realise how much I needed this closeness.

He tries to wipe away my tears, I am not sure there is a point, there will just be more to replace them, but I appreciate the gesture.

Wheeler then produces a handkerchief and proceeds to clean me up. It makes me want to chuckle, he did not need to do this – I have my own tissues I just was not bothering – but it does help lighten the feeling in my heart. My Yankee was right, I could never have done this alone.

When he is done he gives me the handkerchief and I give him a smile in thanks, leaning back into his side and the arm that is still encircling me.

Now everyone has given their final fairwells, Father Koslov will anoint the body with the sign of the cross, and the casket will be sealed. Once it is done we can head outside to the grave, something I will be very grateful for because the air is thick in here and I feel light headed, and even if I am cold, I need to breathe.

To Be Continued…

And don't forget, to get the full affect of the story, you HAVE TO read Wheeler's side of the story in Chapter 14 of Becks7's Co-Dependents