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"... Amelia Alvarado would like to say a few words..." he said, making my spaced-out brain clear as my head snapped up to watch her walking out from the back room in a simple black dress and black ballet flats. Her hair was braided to the side and fell down toward her breasts, simple and elegant. I couldn't see her eyes well from a distance, but they did have the distinct look of puffiness that either meant sleeplessness or tears, or both.
She cleared her throat a little awkwardly as she stood at the podium, looking out at the crowd with a palpable sort of anxiety until her gaze fell on a group toward the back, people I assumed belonged in her group, were part of her comfort zone. She spoke directly to them.
"I didn't know Ben like many of you did. I didn't have that kind of history. But when I moved in next door to him, I felt something in him, something I recognized in myself, a need for someone to understand, to get us. He wasn't in the best place, as many of you know, but that didn't stop him from looking out for me. He used to open the door when I was walking home from work at night and remind me to lock up. And once, when my shower broke and water was spraying everywhere, he came running in and fixed it for me. Then he got his life on track and made amends for some of his wrongdoings. Not all of them," she said and suddenly her gaze landed on mine. It was just for the barest of seconds, like she couldn't stand to look at me for some reason. "But he was trying. See? I think by not knowing his history, I got to know the man he had always meant to be. And that man was kind and generous and determined to do right. He was..." her voice broke slightly and her hand rose to press up to her brow for a minute. I clutched the bottom of the pew to keep myself from rushing up there and putting an arm around her. Her grief was a palpable thing, reverberating from her body and surrounding me. A second later, she took a deep breath, shaking her head as if to clear it. "He was my only real friend and I feel really blessed to have gotten to have him in my life. Thank you," she said, pressing her lips together as she flew from the altar and disappeared into the room she had emerged from.
Father Sanders stood up again, saying a prayer and calling the pallbearers which included me, Dade, and, unbelievably, Breaker. I didn't know how he pulled that off, but he had somehow made that happen. He really was my brother. Maybe not by blood, but by everything that mattered.
The cemetery was old and unimpressive, the grass a prickly mix of brown and green. My father was being buried in a plot beside his father, far away from the spot my mother was buried. I found that somehow fitting. She escaped him in life, who would condemn her to an eternity beside him?
The service started and Alex snuck away from the crowd and stood beside me, taking my hand in hers. I think it was more her living through an old memory; her mother's funeral, more so than it was for me. I squeezed her hand hard, looking around at everyone gathered. Death brought everyone out of the woodworks, even his old boss who hated his guts. A few feet away, my grandmother was crying crocodile tears, loudly, supported by a bunch of her lady friends.
Across from me, however, was Amelia. And there was nothing insincere or attention-grabbing about her grief, her silent and endless tears she didn't even bother to wipe away. Her shoulders slumped further and further as the service dragged on, her legs looking like the didn't want to carry the burden of her pain anymore as she bent slightly forward into herself, her arms wrapped around her belly.
Father Sanders finished and everyone slowly started to move away and I dropped Alex's hand, making a beeline for Amelia whose body was shaking with violent sobs.
"Angel, hey..." I started, reaching my hand out to rest on her arm, wanting to pull her close and wrap her up, try to steal some of her sorrow.
But her entire body jolted at the contact, her head snapping up toward me before she wrenched away and started running as far and as fast from me as she could.
"Come on, Johnnie," my meema said, coming up to me. "We have to get back to my house. Everyone is going to be gathering soon."
I pulled away from her, my chest feeling tight. "Yeah, ma'am. I just... I need to do something first." With that, and no word to any of the people who actually cared, I made my way to my car and battled the traffic of literally fucking everyone in town in my mission to get back to the apartment building and check on Amelia.
It took me the better part of half an hour before I parked and hopped out, hauling ass up the stairs. I went to her door, reaching for the knob without a second thought, knowing it would be unlocked. I walked through her apartment, following the sound of her cries to her bedroom where I found her laying in the center of her bed, curled up on her side into a ball on top of the blankets, her hands covering her face. I kicked off my shoes and moved to the side of the bed, getting in behind her and curling my body around hers, one of my arms going under her head, the other wrapped tight around her middle, squeezing her tight. My face nestled into her neck as she let me hold her.
It felt endless, how long we laid there like that, until she completely drained her misery.
She sniffled for a long time, wiping at her eyes before slowly trying to turn in my arms. I loosened up my hold and let her, stroking a bit of hair that escaped her braid off of her face and behind her ear. "You okay, sweetheart?"
