Watch

by Cass J. McMain

  The pastor took his position again and led everyone in hymns.

  Todd waited until nobody was looking, and flicked Scott on the ear. Scott quietly flicked him back. They got four flicks in each before Pam caught them and made them stop.

  Chapter 3

  …how many thousands of books have I read on this, and yet cannot find any surety…they do not agree, and I am maddened by it.

  Pam carried the urn carefully upright, as though it contained liquid that might spill.

  “So those are his ashes?” Todd asked. “Gross.”

  Pam nodded. “Yes, they’re his ashes. And they aren’t ‘gross’. I would have preferred a proper funeral, but this is what he insisted on.”

  “You’re going to put them in the house?”

  “On the fireplace. Probably. Maybe.” They reached the car, where Scott was already waiting for them. “Here, Todd. You take these ashes. I have to go talk to the Pastor for a minute.” When Todd made a face, Pam shoved the urn at him. “Just take them, Todd, OK? I haven’t got time for this.”

  He took them.

  “And do not scare your little brother,” she shot at him over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  Todd sat in the front seat and put the urn on the floor between his feet. It was heavier than he had expected. He looked back at Scott, who was tracing his finger on the car window, leaving greasy trails. “Mom’ll rip you a new one for that.”

  Scott shrugged, then leaned forward to peer at the urn. “So… those are Grandpa’s ashes?”

  “Yep.” Todd reached down and touched the lid. “I wonder how full the jar is. Urn. Whatever. It’s heavy. I thought ashes would be light.”

  “How’d they get the ashes out?”

  “Get the ashes out of what?”

  “You know. I mean, how’d they…make them?”

  Todd laughed. “Retard. They burned him, what did you think?”

  Scott’s eyes got wider. “They really burned him? Like… just set him on fire?”

  “No, dumbass. In an oven.” Todd picked up the urn and shook it lightly, then looked back at Scott. “They have a big oven, special to do it in.”

  “How do they know for sure they’re dead? Do they ever burn someone up who isn’t? Like by accident?”

  Todd shrugged. “Sure, probably. I think they check, though.” He turned the lid and lifted it off the urn, peering inside.

  “Don’t! Todd, don’t!”

  “What? Shut up, little freak. You scared of the ashes?” He held up the open urn and waved it around, bringing it closer to Scott’s face. “Grandpa’s gonna get you, better look out.”

  Scott shrank back in his seat. “You’re a dick,” he said, turning away to look for their mother. He saw her on the sidewalk, talking to the pastor. Most of the people had left already. A few still filed out. Scott saw a car go past with Aunt somebody in it.

  “Did you ever meet that Aunt before? Aunt whatever they called her? The fat lady with the flowers?”

  Todd looked back at him. “Yeah, we met her a few years ago.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You did, too. You were just too young to remember.”

  Scott thought about this, watching their mother and the pastor talking. “I wonder what they’re talking about.”

  “I dunno.” Bored, he shook the urn again.

  “Why does it rattle like that?”

  Todd paused a moment. “Bone chips. They don’t all burn.”

  “Nuh uh.”

  “Yuh huh. Look.” He leaned the urn over toward Scott. “See? Chunks of bone.”

  Scott peered into the urn, wide-eyed. “Ew. Gross. That’s Grandpa Moony? Like all of him? That’s all that’s left?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why didn’t they bury him? Why did they burn him?”

  “Mom said this was what he asked for.”

  “Ew. Why would anyone ask to be burned?”

  “Why not?”

  Scott blinked. “What if it hurts?”

  “Why would it hurt? Moron. They’re dead.”

  “What if they weren’t, though?”

  “Then it would hurt.” Todd settled the urn back between his feet. “But you think burying someone alive would be any better? At least this would be quick.”

  Scott stared out the window at a nearby hearse and thought about the coffin inside it. They made smaller coffins for children, he knew. He wondered how long would it take to die if they buried you alive. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine it. Would it be quiet? He thought it would be, unless you started screaming. Scott wondered how long he could keep from screaming.

  “How long can you live in a coffin?”

  Todd shrugged. “I dunno. Probably like…a couple of days, maybe? You’d run out of air before you starved.”

  “How do the vampires live in coffins then?”

  Todd snorted. “They don’t, moron. They come out at night. They just stay there in the day. And they aren’t underground. They just lean up against a wall or whatever.”

  Scott sat back in the seat, thinking about this. “Why do they have to use coffins? Couldn’t they just stay in the closet or something?”

  Todd shook his head. It had to be coffins. But he didn’t know why.

  Pam and the pastor walked back inside the church. “Where are they going now? I thought we were finished.”

  “I don’t know.” Todd opened the car door and stepped out. “Stay here, I’ll go see.”

  “Don’t leave me here with that… thing.” Scott pointed at the urn on the floor of the car. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, you have to stay. Someone might steal it. Don’t be a fucking baby.”

  Scott sat back, frowning. He’d tell his mother Todd had cursed, and left him alone. He should just get out of the car anyway, and go inside. If someone stole the ashes it would be fine with him. Besides, it was Todd who’d get blamed: Todd was supposed to be watching them. Scott knew his mother wouldn’t have made him sit here alone. It wasn’t safe to be alone. He locked the car doors and stared at the urn, wondering if it smelled smoky and ashy, like a fireplace or an ashtray. Wondering if, after a while, it might start to smell like a dead body.

  There was a tap at the window and he jumped. It was one of the ladies from the church; he had seen her inside helping them with the funeral. She wore black pants and jacket, but a yellow shirt. Scott thought the lady looked like a bee. He unrolled the window. “Mom went inside, I think. With the priest guy.”

  “Pastor. He’s a pastor.” The lady blinked rapidly down at him.

  “Oh. They went back inside.”

  More blinking. “Well, I have these… you know.” She held up a box. “I wanted to see if your mother needed them. Does she want them?”

  Scott shrugged. He had no idea what was in the box.

  “I’m sure she wants them. Here, you give them to her.” She thrust the box through the window, into Scott’s face, then looked deeper into the car. “Where did your brother get off to?”

  “He went to look for Mom. She was talking to the pr… pastor.”

  The lady nodded. “Yes, I’m sure she had many things on her mind, poor soul.” She looked at Scott sharply. “You be good for your mother now. She’s had a rough week, with all this. Her father and all. Quite a trial.”

  Scott nodded, frowning up at the lady. He didn’t know there had been a trial.

  “Alright then, you tell your mother I dropped those off with you, and let her know I said to call if she needs anything, alright, honey? Even just a shoulder, OK? We’re praying for her. You’ll tell her I said that?”

  Scott nodded again, and rolled up the window as the lady walked away. He breathed on the car window and watched as the fog started to clear from the edges, then drew a small “x” into the center. Why were they praying for his mother? And what was the trial about? He figured it must have something to do with his grandfather, and he squinted at the urn, then looked into the box the lady had given him. Memor
ial booklets. He held one up and looked at the photo of his grandfather on it. It was an old picture; he looked too young to be dead and burned up into ashes.

  He saw his mother and brother coming toward the car, and he dropped the booklet back into the box swiftly, as though it was something he wasn’t supposed to have.

  “Move over lame-o,” Todd said, shoving his brother. “Make room.”

  “Why?” Scott frowned, moving reluctantly under his brother’s stare.

  Todd pointed. Their mother approached, burdened with flowers. “No room in front.”

  “Flowers?” Scott whined. “What’s she want all those for? Aren’t they supposed to go on the grave or something?”

  “There’s no grave, dumbass. Remember?” Todd tapped his brother on the head roughly. “You want to sit in front with the ashes instead of back here with the flowers?”

  Dry-mouthed, Scott whispered back, “No.” He pushed to the side as his mother leaned in.

  “Ok, Scotty. Here, you hold these still so they don’t fly all over the car.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” Pam arranged the flowers slightly to clear the door. “And don’t get water on your suit, little man.”

  “That lady from before came and gave me this box.”

  His mother nodded but didn’t say anything. Scott put his hand out to steady the flowers as his mother joggled a second bunch into the car and slammed the door.

  He didn’t tell her the bee-lady was praying for her.

  Chapter 4

  The boys picked at their dinner. Their mother was on the phone; she hadn’t eaten any of her food.

  “Who’s she talking to?”

  Todd shrugged. “Dunno,” he said through a bite of potato. “Someone.”

  “Duh.” Scott dipped his spoon into gravy and looked at it intently. “She sounds mad.”

  “Yeah.” Todd got up and moved where he could hear better, and Scott followed him. Bits of conversation drifted past. She shouldn’t have kept it…it wasn’t… I know… it’s not the money…

  “She’s talking about Cousin Corky again?”

  Todd nodded. “Shh, I can’t hear.”

  “Is that what the trial’s about?”

  “What trial?”

  Scott told him about the lady. “Did they put Corky on trial for stealing the necklace?”

  Todd gave up trying to eavesdrop. “Don’t be stupid. One necklace? Nobody goes to jail for one stupid necklace. Unless it was worth a whole lot of money or it was really old or rare or something like that.”

  “Maybe Grandpa Moony’s necklace was really old.”

  “No.” Todd shook his head. “I don’t think so. It was just a normal one. I saw it before. It was just a cross. No jewels or anything on it, either.”

  “Then what’s the trial for?”

  “She didn’t mean that kind of trial, dummy. She means like in the Bible.”

  “The Bible? Didn’t the bible guys cut off your hand for stealing?”

  “I dunno. Probably.” Todd sat back down at the table and poked at his potatoes. “That’s still not the right kind of trial.”

  Scott nodded, looking at his mother’s untouched dinner. “Do you go to hell if you steal?”

  Todd shrugged. “Maybe. Shut up and eat.”

  With a sly grin on his face, Scott leaned over and poked his fork into a green bean on his mother’s plate and ate it. When his mother came back to the table, he waited to see if she would notice it was missing.

  She didn’t.

  After dinner, Todd went to a friend’s house to watch movies. Scott hung around in the house, following his mother from room to room. He wanted to ask her about the trial, but he had a feeling she’d be mad if he did. So he just followed her around, and after a short time she grew annoyed with him and told him to go outside.

  “Go play, Scotty. Leave your mother alone for a while. My God, you think I have nothing to do but entertain you.” She sat heavily on the couch and picked up a magazine. “I haven’t had a break from you all day. Now, go on.”

  Scott nodded and went out the front door, unsure what to do. He found his old tennis ball and took it around the side of the house, and bounced it off the wall and sidewalk there. Ka-thock, Ka-thock. It made little dustprints where it hit, until the dust was knocked out of it. He tried to hit the same marks again and knock them off. He got into a rhythm with the ball. It was soothing, and he let his mind drift.

  He still wanted to know what the trial was about. Todd had said nobody went to jail for a necklace, but he thought they could. They’d watched a movie in school once that talked about how bad it was to shoplift, and it showed the cops arresting a girl who had stolen some makeup. And that was just makeup. A necklace was worse.

  The girl was crying when the cops took her away, and then this big voice came on and said, “You may think shoplifting is fun, or a thrill. but it isn’t – Shoplifting is a crime!”

  Scott had never stolen anything, but now he wondered if it was fun. His friend Nick had stolen something. Two somethings, actually. Nick had come to school with two sexy magazines that he’d swiped from his brother’s collection, and he and Scott had hidden behind the big tires and looked them over at recess. That had been exciting, but maybe it was because they were stolen. Was it more exciting to be the one who stole it?

  Maybe. Maybe that was why Corky had stolen the necklace, for the fun of doing it. For the thrill. Scott thought maybe he should steal something one day, so he’d know how it felt. Not something big. Just something. So he’d have it. He could show it to Nick, maybe, and then they’d have something in common. Two thieves they’d be, then. Except Nick got caught. He hadn’t gone to jail though; Nick’s brother had beaten him up instead.

  Ka-thock. Ka-thock. Ka-thock.

  Chapter 5

  … when Vi found the cross she insisted she should have it. She wears it herself, and I am exposed again…What can I do? I am sorry, my love… you know I could not tell her the truth.

  Scott spent weeks thinking about stealing something. It did give him a thrill, just to think about it. But he had trouble actually working up to doing it. At school, he hovered near the teacher’s desk, looking at many small items she had there which he could easily take. His eye fell on a little statue of a pig, no bigger than a marble. He could swipe that, and hide it easily, he thought. When she turned her back, he would do it, he would slip it right into his pocket and take it home and hide it. Then he would know what it was like.

  The teacher wasn’t looking. Nobody was looking. He reached for the pig twice and though he was sure nobody would have seen him, he couldn’t bring himself to complete his act. He was surprised how hard it was to do this.

  Scott tried again that evening at the grocery store with his mother. This time, he managed to actually pick up something and hide it briefly. It was a gummy candy from the bulk food aisle. The excitement he wanted was there briefly, and he felt it run down his spine like a fingernail, but it went too quickly. This wasn’t enough. Nobody would be impressed with a theft of a little orange gumdrop. He couldn’t take this sticky thing to Nick and show him. After Nick came with naked girl magazines? From his own brother’s bedroom?

  No. It had to be something more than that, if he wanted to prove he could do it. It had to be something real, something daring.

  Scott stood in the store, gripping the mashed orange candy in his hand, thinking of what he might take that would give him what he was after. He was lost in thought when his mother and Todd came around the corner.

  “Scott, for the love of God, I’ve been looking for you. Put that damn candy back – you know I don’t let you have those candies from open bins. Anyone could have been handling them.”

  Scott opened his hand, revealing the thing inside. “But—”

  “No buts, Scotty.” She picked the candy out of his hand and dropped it back into the bin. “I’ve had enough of this from you. Why would you want to buy some candy that anyone could have been
having their hands all over? Unsanitary.”

  Scott hung his head as his mother ushered him up the aisle, lecturing about the filthy habits of others. They passed a young mother with a tot in her arms, and Pam gave her a look. “Kids,” she said. “I swear.”

  The young mother glanced up but said nothing, and Pam went on. “I can’t do a thing with this one. He thinks he can just have anything he wants. I don’t know why they even sell candies like this.” She prodded Scott to move along.

  He glanced back but couldn’t see the woman or her child. All he could see was his mother’s legs. Her hand gripped his head and turned it to face front, pressing him forward, and she kept talking about how much she hated the store and the candies and the way people’s children were. The way he was.

  Todd walked in front of them. When they reached the register line, Todd moved into place behind Scott and started poking him in the back. Scott bore all of three pokes before lashing out.

  “Quit it!”

  “Make me!”

  Pam grabbed each boy by an elbow and shook them. “Cut it out, the both of you. This is not a playpen.” Her eyes flicked sideways at the woman ahead of them in line, then back to the boys. “You will be the death of me, I swear it.”

  When they got to the car, the boys sat in their seats and waited while their mother loaded groceries into the trunk. She was muttering, but they couldn’t hear what she was saying.

  “Is she mad at us still?”

  “Probably.”

  Scott turned around in his seat, trying to see her face, but he couldn’t. “Why’d she say we’ll be the death of her?”

  “It means we’ll kill her.”

  “We will?”

  Todd rolled his eyes. “No, moron. It’s just a thing they say. You know. Like when they say you’ll freeze to death.”

  “Some people do freeze to death! I saw it on the news once.”

  “Yeah, so? People kill their parents too. It’s still just a saying.”

  Scott shook his head. “No, they don’t. Do they?”

  “Sure they do. Last year, there were these brothers in Arizona, and they killed their mother and father, plus their sister and her boyfriend.” Todd leaned closer. “The one brother tied them up and then the other one stabbed them.” Scott didn’t say anything, so Todd went on. “Forty seven times, total. Between them, I mean. The mother had fifteen stab wounds.”