Breathing In

11

As I walk out of the brooding hallway, overwhelmed with what I just learned, I see Josh and Char gesture to me.

"It's starting." They mouth. I head over to where they stand in front of the dark casket, and look at my uncle Curtis. He looks so peaceful. This is what he should've had all this time. He deserved better. He invented a cure, but gave it up so people would live, I think. This is the Charlie I knew.

I realize in a moment how lucky I am to have had such an uncle, who cared so much. A pastor introduces himself, and I drift in and out, his words combining with my thoughts. A few people stand up to say some words. I hardly pay attention, until I hear my name.

"Rebecca Lee was Charlie's pride and joy. Every holiday, she would come, and I would watch as she grew older and older, while Curtis grew with her." A single tear escapes my face as one of Curtis' long-time neighbors continues to talk. I hear words of wisdom, sadness, and joy. Memories, and dreams fill the room. Now, it's not just me that has tears streaming down my face.Char and Josh, even though they barely knew him, look solemly at the open casket, where Charlie lays with his eyes closed, and a small smile playing on his lips. All I can hear is the quiet sobbing of sad people, crying for what they have lost and what Charlie will never have.

Finally, the speakers finish, and close the casket. As it is taken outside to the graveyard near the church, my mind wandered back to Curt Astroe. What could he have to gain from telling me all of that? Part of me is on guard, for when he comes back and tells me to tell the world, or be who Charlie would've wanted me to be. I won't, I know.

I see, over near a frozen fountain, James. His eyes look wet, and I head over to comfort him.

"Hey, James. You okay?" I ask. Through sniffles, he answers.

"Yeah -sniff- I guess. I just, I mean. I can't believe it. For the longest time, I haven't accepted it. It just seems so real, now."

"James," I say, "I know how you feel."

"No, you don't. Charlie was, well he was not really who you thought he was." James says quickly, then shuts his mouth and looks regretful.

"Oh, you mean how he invented a cure for cancer, but let his brother steal it so millions would be saved? Because that sounds like him." I say, and I am rewarded with a face full of surprise.

"How do you-never mind. Well, your dad isn't as bad as he's made out to be, either." He says.

Though I feel bad about one-upping him again, I say anyways, "Oh, well, since my dad took the cure to save millions..."

I am suddenly struck with what I have said. I only just learned this, and here I am, bragging about it to my friend, who is crying at a frozen fountain in the harsh winter wind. My face falls, and it must be obvious.

"Hey, what's up with you? I guess, maybe, " James pauses, thinking. "Maybe you just learned it." He says, and I try to hide my reaction from his expression catching eyes.

"Well..." I say. I think about the mysterious man from the hallway, and stop. Maybe that man has something he wants from me. He probably told me for a reason, and suddenly defensive, I shut my mouth. More and more people pour out from the tall and brooding church doors, and I turn to leave.

"I'll tell your dad you were here." James says, and leaves.

Suddenly, as quickly as it began, the funeral is over. Crying people hang around the grave, but I know it won't do me any good. We all climb in the car and head home, as I still question the Curt fellow.

"Becca, are you okay?" Char asks, her voice strangely thin.

"Yeah." I say, through sniffles.

"Oh, hey, Becca. Where were you before the ceremony? Me and Josh couldn't find you. Or James or your dad, for that matter."

"Well, I saw James after the ceremony, but never saw my dad." I say, easily deflecting the question.

Charlotte, oblivious to the non-answer I gave, asks more questions, but I tune out, only answering simply, like no, yes, and the occasional, I'm good.