Dying Wish

[6] Anomaly

What a day this would be.

I'd never dressed for a funeral, let alone for someone I'd never met, so I went with what I thought would be the most appropriate. I think I did a pretty good job, considering. I wore my darkest jeans, chest covered in a white Alpha shirt, without the tie. A green blazer felt a little... loud. Instead, I wore my black bomber jacket, ready to wear it the whole time.

Cryptic text messages ordered me. They came from an unknown number.

Funeral this Saturday

(That would be February 20th).

Take the train past Clearview to Kennel Street.

Go to the church on the corner.

That could only be my great disruptor.

So why did I go? Why put myself through this? I wasn't in danger, if you were worrying. At least, it didn't seem that way. It'd been more than a week since Smiley's. During this time, Alice had several chances to do to me what I knew she'd done to that guy. I'll be honest, this didn't feel like some sort of violent ambush. I hoped not anyway. I went to end the awkward friction. Enough was enough.

I'd catch Alice looking my way in the halls, then I'd end up glancing at her during lunch. She wasn't speaking to me, so I wasn't speaking to her. In my head, our friendship had fizzled. Today was about her lips confirming or denying this. Straight up. No games. No playful banter.

Either way, it'd be fine. More than fine, actually. Especially knowing what I knew about her. A mutual parting would be like a slap on the wrist compared to what it could be. I would promise Alice to keep her secret and that would be the end of it. Hopefully, that would be enough to get me home alive. Sounded simple enough.

Too bad for me, right? Nothing about what Alice would tell me was simple.

A dying sun set the sky ablaze in orange, this covered me to the white structure. I had to walk there. But I crept through the doors, hands pocketed. One of the white gloves extended me the face of a smiling stranger. It was light. Too light. Some kind of error, I thought somberly.

My body escaped the current going into the main cathedral. I scaled a side staircase to the curved pews of the mezzanine. The air was dry and I was alone. No one down in the main cathedral noticed my intrusion, everyone was too busy wearing their soft smiles. Talking. Chuckling. Giving honor to the picture up front. An enlarged copy of the photo I held. I was too drawn into a powerful energy to react to the flutter of the windowpanes. A voice cut through the haziness in my head.

"Convenient. You're already up here."

"I thought it was more respectful," I said to a black-laced dress, "Alice." There was a pause. A chance for the tension to slip in and achieve an ultimate crescendo. I was the one who broke it, asking, "What's this all about?"

Motion in the cathedral prompted her reply: "Service is starting soon. We should take our seats." Alice descended the left wing. I followed, but the iciness of her small body occupied the entire pew.

So, there I sat in the pew behind her. Being more on her shoulder, I could see the tight tuck of her elbows; those tiny fingers were probably interlaced in her lap. I also caught a glimpse of her eyes. Soft, yet fierce.

Meanwhile, I placed the program beside me. Fists in my pockets, my hips on the edge of the bench, I sat like this for over an hour, solemnly, struggling to see what Alice saw so easily.

The service ended with the shiny brown casket hoisted onto six shoulders. An image flashed into my head as they glided out (I'm not proud of this): one wrong step, one trick knee, and things would get reeeaaally interesting. My lips were ready to pinch. Nothing of the sort happened, though. The man in the satin robes sashayed away. Then the family limped in tow. Everybody stood, including Alice and me. It was then I learned what she was paying attention to...

Alice said to me, "Born: August 6th, 1945. Died: February 16th, 2022. And on his grave, there'll be a dash. Every moment of happiness. Every lie. Every failure and every regret. It all goes there. The hours spent in traffic. The minutes spent brushing your teeth. How a small dash can fit all that, every single second, I think it's beautiful. But you don't get that without this. Without death, nobody gets their dash. How sad would that be? All the bonds formed, all the dreams chased, all the love shared. Endless life makes it all meaningless. It mocks the real thing."

Everyone left but us.

Now felt as good a place or time as any. The voice I lost in Smiley's found me.

"Alice, you—"

"Gray, I—"

Our voices overlapped.

"You go first" she said.

I frowned.

"...You killed them, didn't you?"

"Only one."

"Why?"

"Because I had to... They... They were after this—"

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