It felt as though I had been disconnected from reality. I floated past dark blurs of people, only slightly aware that Al was at my side. A heaviness hung in the air, infusing my entire being with sorrow, as I made my way closer to the end of the aisle between the dark wooden benches. Streams forced their way from my eyes, as I caught a glimpse of perfectly-groomed, red and gray hair in the casket ahead.
People had died in The Facility before, but I had never been introduced to the face of death with such brutality. The closest thing I had ever known to a father was lying in front of me, hands folded across his chest, with a final expression of disharmony plastered on his still face. I knew that peace was nowhere to be found in Eddie’s closed eyes.
My knees wobbled unsteadily. My legs seemed to have removed themselves from my control. Al’s grasp on my arm tightened; he now held the weight of my entire body, but managed to escort me to one of the seats in the front row.
Forcing myself into some sort of awareness, I realized I was sitting next to Eddie’s sobbing wife. I attempted to reach for her hand, but she pulled it away sharply.
“Emmy... I’m so sorry,” I said. My voice felt foreign and cold.
Emmy lifted her puffy red face from a flowery handkerchief to meet me with such fury I never knew existed in the world. She did not accept my condolences, instead silently moving to a bench on the other side of the aisle.
I lowered my head, tears still making their way down my cheeks. I felt a hand on my chin, and allowed it to direct my face toward Al. His eyes collided with mine, as his words rang throughout my head.
‘This is not your fault,’ Al said firmly, without actually speaking.
I lowered my head to Al’s shoulder, tuning out the sounds of muffled shuffling as various employees of The Facility filtered into their seats.
Perhaps it was insensitive of me, but the eulogies and speeches made by voices and faces I didn’t recognize sounded like nothing more than inaudible rambles. I was in a world of my own, hidden away inside my head. The instrumental band at the back of the room provided a mournful soundtrack to the memories that replayed themselves in my mind.
I thought of the last time I saw Eddie, pacing nervously after I had caught Al on fire. I thought of the last words I would ever hear from his mouth. ‘Take your time, and do your best. I believe in you.’ I wished I had spoken to him since that day.
I thought of Eddie and Emmy’s anniversary, a few months before Al had arrived. Eric and I made them both breakfast in bed, cleaned the entire house spotless, and arranged for them to spend the entire day in spa treatment.
My graduation from tutoring. Eddie had organized a ceremony that was exactly like the ones I had seen in movie, except that it was in the back yard of his house, and I was the only one in a cap and gown.
My sixteenth birthday. Eddie had set up a small golf course, and taught me how to drive. He thought he was so clever.
My ‘goth’ phase. Eddie had spiked his hair, and wore black eyeliner for a week. He said it was so I wouldn’t feel like an outcast, but I was pretty sure it was just his way of trying to prove how ridiculous he thought I looked.
When I was fourteen, Eddie decided it was time to have ‘The Talk’ with me. He had basically gone over everything I learned in Sex-Ed, but with a much more embarrassed expression than my tutor. That particular talk had somehow ended with Eddie and me playing video games.
At twelve, Eddie discussed with me why flooding William’s office was wrong. ‘Hilarious... but wrong.’ He had ended the conversation with a hug, and the comment ‘maybe next time,’ which I had never understood.
For my tenth birthday, Eddie gave me some of his favorite comic books. He said they reminded him of me, but that I was different because I didn’t have weaknesses like the other super-heroes.
Six years old: I was wobbling around on top of a little pink bike with no training wheels. Eddie said he wasn’t going to lie to me by telling me he wouldn’t let go. He told me he would have to let go, otherwise I would never learn to do it on my own.
I pushed back even further into my memories, to things most people would have forgotten long ago. There was no way of knowing if I was fabricating the memories from stories I had been told, but they seemed real to me.
I remembered giggling as I took my first step, Eddie’s face beaming as his arms reached out for me.
I remembered putting my tiny little hand on Eddie’s cheek as I spoke my first word: ‘smile’.
Then, I remembered something unfamiliar. There were shouts and screams, bright lights and loud, crashing noises. I was an infant, swaddled in a deep blue blanket, looking into the face of a woman I had never seen before. Her hair was the color of sunshine, and it tickled my nose while she ran with me through white halls.
I lowered my eyebrows, looking to Al after realizing he had been watching me through my reminiscence. His kind eyes closed, nodding as his voice entered my head.
‘In time,’ his voice said.
Al led me through the slowly moving line of people, following the pallbearers to a room off of the one we had just been in. Attached to the back wall was a shiny metal door, a small window glaring gloomily at us from the top.
There was no cemetery in The Facility. It wouldn’t have been practical. There were no headstones with dates and quotes for loved ones to place flowers on, or to visit on anniversaries and birthdays. There was only the crematorium, used to reduce human beings to ash and dust, after which they would then be placed in a plain, silver urn.
It had become customary to watch as the cremation process began, though I never understood why. It seemed so violent and cruel to stand by as your loved one was burned.
The heavy door was shut with a dreadful thud, Eddie’s lifeless body locked inside. We all stood in silence, staring at the small dark window. Emmy’s sobs rang throughout the room, as flames licked their way up to our line of vision.
Emotion overwhelmed me to the point that I felt nothing at all, only emptiness. I stared blankly at the window, unable to comprehend that I would never see the man behind that door ever again. Something possessed me to look around the room, at the faces that were witnessing this horrible event. I found some sort of comfort in seeing that I was not the only person to seem so detached. Many faces were tear-stained, but many were distant. Suddenly, I realized a face was missing entirely from the crowd.
On the day of his father’s funeral, Eric was nowhere to be found.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Effective