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“Thank you. Appreciate that.”
“Anything else you need, anything, you just let one of us know.”
Mack nodded.
Crash replied from the back. “Thanks, man. For everything.”
Boot nodded.
Crash looked out the window, watching the scenery flash by. When they got closer to downtown, he leaned forward. “Hey, brother. There is one thing you could do.”
“Anything, brother.”
“Drive by my grandmother’s place.”
“Crash, not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I need to see it.”
“There’s not much left, Crash,” Boot warned.
Crash stared at him in the rearview.
“All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Boot made several turns, finally pulling down the side street. As they got half way down the block, the burned out structure came into view. It was surrounded by yellow police tape. Boot slowed the SUV to a stop in front.
Crash rolled his window down and stared at the blackened and charred remains of the house that had been the only home he’d ever known growing up. The house where the only two family members he’d had left had died. He could only hope to God that the smoke inhalation had gotten them before the fire reached them. His jaw ticked with the emotions churning through him.
Angel, who was sitting in the back, between himself and Cole, reached over and squeezed his hand. He took in a long deep breath and pressed the button on his door, the window sliding slowly back up. “Go.”
Two nights later…
Both caskets were in the same viewing room at the funeral home. Cole stood in front of Crash’s grandmother’s closed casket, his arm draped around Angel, who stood at his side. His eyes moved from the beautiful spray of white roses that lay over the casket to the framed photograph. He squeezed Angel. “I always called her Mama Rose. Growing up, I used to be at their house more often than my own. She always fused over me, made sure I had enough to eat.”
Angel squeezed him back. “I’m sorry, baby. I know she meant a lot to you.”
“Yeah.”
“At least you got to come out and see her that last time.”
“Yeah.” Cole twisted his head to look to the side, where Crash stood across the room in front of his sister’s casket, hers covered by a spray of pink roses. Ace was by his side. Both their heads bent, their hands in their pockets. He saw Skylar walk up to him and Crash put one arm around her, pulling her close, their heads bent together. Cole could see her shoulder’s shake as she cried. Then he watched one of Crash’s hands come out and wipe at his eyes, and he looked away, knowing in another second, he was going to lose it himself. He murmured to Angel, “I don’t know how he’s going to get through this.”
“He’s strong, Cole.”
“Christ, baby, in the space of a year he just lost his whole fucking family,” he whispered back brokenly, his head bent.
“No, Cole. He still has us. He still has all his brothers.”
Cole choked up. “Yeah.” He sniffed, trying to take a deep breath. “Yeah, he does.”
The procession to the cemetery the next day was a long one. Crash followed immediately behind the two hearses, riding one of the bikes that had been provided. Behind him was Cole and Mack, also on bikes. Then came Butcher, the President of the Birmingham chapter and all his men. Behind them was a car carrying Angel and Ace and his immediate family. And behind that was a long line of cars containing neighbors, church members, and friends.
They buried them beside the three grave stones already standing i
n a row. Crash’s grandfather, his mother and his brother. And now they would lay his grandmother and sister with them. The graveside was crowded with people. Although there weren’t really any other family there other than a couple distant cousins, there were a lot of people that loved his grandmother and sister. That was evident by the crowd of people standing around the graveside. Half the neighborhood and most of the congregation had turned out, along with many of his sister’s and Ace’s friends from the artist community.
Scanning the faces, Crash recognized some, others, not. He sat in the front row of metal folding chairs with Cole, Angel and Mack on one side, and Ace on the other side, whose family took up the second row. Crash’s leg was jumping a mile a minute, his knee bouncing up and down. He just wanted to get through this day. If he could just get through this day, he’d be okay. He kept telling himself that. Just get through today. That’s all he had to do. Just make it through today.
After the minister said his final words over the gravesite, the mourners began to disperse, some stopping by to give Crash their personal condolences.
