The Obituary Society

by Jessica L. Randall

  They all clucked and nodded their heads.

  “Sheryl Paulsen finally passed away,” Betty began. “Remember her? She had that boy that wrote for the newspaper in Papillion. They thought she was doing so much better. They took her to the cancer center and everything. But it came back and she got bad fast.”

  “Sheryl was a good person,” said Leona. “She didn't deserve that. I'd rather go quickly. Even if it wasn't in a nice way. He got better than he deserved.”

  The room changed, as if someone had twisted the tuning pegs of a guitar, and a pluck into the air would produce a too-sharp note. The last bite of Lila's cake stuck in her throat as she tried to swallow it. Who was he?

  Matilda nudged Leona sharply. “You're not supposed to talk about that,” she hissed. The air felt suddenly chilly, and the ladies wrapped their hands around their soft suede arms or glanced at their jackets hanging by the door, wondering if they ought to have kept them on.

  They all looked at Ada, who cleared her throat and said in a quiet voice, “You know, Tabitha Lawrence fell the other morning, just going out to get the paper. She’s very fortunate she didn’t break a hip, like my cousin Alma did just last month.” Whispers of agreement went round the room, followed by a chorus of soft leather purses unzipping and bony fingers poking around to find and smooth out their obituary clippings.

  Chapter 7

  Sold

  Lila followed Ada and Gladys up the steps of the First United Methodist Church, carrying two loaves of Ada's homemade bread tightly wrapped in cellophane. Ada peeked back at Lila over the top of a cake box. “The auction is always such fun. You won't believe the things people bring.”

  “I wish I had something to offer,” Lila said.

  “No one expects you to bring anything, dear,” Ada replied. “But who knows, maybe you'll pick up a little something for yourself.”

  “I'm sure I'll find something to bid on.”

  A woman walked past them, carrying a large purple hat with a stuffed bird attached to the brim. Gladys pointed to it. “That would look lovely on you, Lila. And you know it will be good quality. Her husband's a taxidermist.”

  Lila clamped her mouth shut, making a mental note to stick to baked goods.

  An older man with a distinguished air and large brown eyes met them at the door. Lila remembered the pastor from the funeral, but she'd met so many people, she couldn't recall his name. He said good morning to Gladys and Ada, who had their hands full, then stuck a long-fingered hand out toward Lila. She tucked a loaf of bread under one arm and shook his hand.

  “Lila, you remember Pastor Lucas,” Ada said.

  Pastor Lucas gave her a kind smile. “How have you been, Lila. I've been thinking about you.”

  “I'm okay, thank you. Aunt Ada's been good to me.”

  “I'm sure she has. You'll eat well there, for sure.” He grinned at Ada. “I'm glad you're still in town. I hoped you'd stay with us awhile.”

  “Why is that?” He seemed so genuine, Lila had to ask.

  “I was curious to see how like your father you would be.” The twinkle in his eye did not go unnoticed by Lila.

  “You'll have to let me know,” Lila said. “We'll be at service on Sunday.”

  “I'll hold you to that,” he answered in a pleasant tone.

  The ladies shuffled through the door and proceeded to the large room at the back of the church, then placed their offerings on one of the long tables lined up at the front of the room. Lila's eyes scanned the collection of frosted cupcakes, brownies, breads, multi-colored afghans, jewelry, and other hand-crafted items. The purple hat was even more shocking close up. The bird's beady black eyes stared at her in an accusing way.

  There were several pieces of paper as well, and she squinted to read the handwritten words: one free haircut and style at Goldie's Locks; lawn mowing services for a month; two Sunday dinners; one Saturday handyman. She smiled, curious who the handyman was, and wondering how much he could accomplish at the old house in one Saturday. He probably wouldn't get past the front porch.

  The women turned around, and spotted a group of open folding chairs. It took several minutes to reach them, however. Lila smiled and nodded until her head spun as the ladies introduced her to one neighbor after another on the way to their seats.

  They sat down, Ada next to the aisle, Gladys beside her, and then Lila. Gladys craned her neck, peering around the woman in front of her. “I told you we should have come earlier. We're four rows back. I hope we don't miss the good stuff.”

  Ada wrinkled her lips. “I'm sorry, but I just had my hair fixed yesterday, and Goldie really did a number on it this time. It took me forever to get it under control. Anyway, we can see just fine.”

  The items on the tables kept piling up as the rows of chairs behind them filled in. Betsy Barker slid into the empty chair beside Lila, wearing an orange, off-the-shoulder blouse. Gladys and Ada eyed her, brows raised.

  “Here are your paddles, ladies.” Betsy handed each of them a numbered paddle. She waved hers up and down with enthusiasm. “Just practicing. Susan Walters outbid me last year on a Brazilian wax and mani-pedi package. I'm not going to let that happen again.” She glared across the aisle at a blonde woman a good twenty years younger than herself.

  Matilda walked in, her face obscured by an arrangement of gorgeous peonies. Leona followed with one of her hand-painted sweat shirts. They placed their items on a table and found two empty seats behind Lila and Gladys.

  The excited chatter lowered to a hum, then a whisper as a grinning older man in a crisply ironed shirt and blue jeans spoke into a microphone. His voice was deep, his inflection that of a showman's. “Testing. Welcome ladies and gents.”

  Betsy grinned. “That's my Eddie. He's been doing this for years.”

  “We appreciate all of you who have come out today for our annual auction, and for the marvelous contributions.” Eddie gestured to the tables. “As you know, the proceeds will go toward church events, and much-needed materials, such as new hymn books and bibles. Let's get started.”

  Pastor Lucas handed Eddie the first item. “To kick things off we have a lovely cross-stitch for the kitchen. It says 'kissin' don't last, cookin' do'.” Eddie gave Betsy a sly smile. “'Course I take whatever I can get. Do we have five dollars to start the bidding? Five dollars right there.” Eddie continued, his words running smoothly like a new John Deere. “How about ten dollars? Ten dollars for this one-of-a-kind item, from Mrs. Erikson's heart to your kitchen. Ten dollars right there. Do we have fifteen? Fifteen dollars. How about twenty? Twenty? Going once, going twice, sold, to Diane Swanson for fifteen dollars.”

  Lila was amused at how quickly Eddie moved through the items. Ada and Gladys had a bit of a scuffle over a birdhouse, hand crafted by Elmer Greene. Ada was not to be outdone, and by the time it was over she'd bid sixty dollars for the birdhouse.

  It turned out Mr. Greene was the Saturday handyman. Lila figured if she was going to bid on something, it may as well be something she really needed. Besides, the purple hat went to a man named Joe Rigby, whose wife asked him to pick out something nice for her. Lila wished him the best.

  “Do I hear sixty dollars for the Saturday handyman? He'll come to your home on a Saturday of your choosing to work on those home projects your husband's been avoiding. Sixty dollars right there. How about seventy dollars? Seventy. Do we have eighty? Right there. How about ninety?”

  Lila raised her paddle. “One hundred twenty.”

  “One hundred twenty dollars. Hundred thirty? Going once, going twice, sold, to Ada Foster's sweet niece for one hundred twenty dollars. From what I hear, you're going to need this. I hope Elmer's a good painter.” He chuckled and handed her the piece of paper with Elmer Greene's number. Ada smiled at her, eyes sparkling, and gave her a thumbs up.

  Eddie was about half-way through the donations when Lila caught the door open out of the corner of her eye. She straightened to get a look at the guy who walked toward one of the tables lugging a compute
r. She couldn't see his face, but it looked like he was young. She couldn't help but notice the way the load he carried showed off the muscles in his arms.

  When he looked up, her eyes darted away. She'd recognized the dark glasses and the 'haven't-shaved-or-really-brushed-my-hair-today' look. Lila snorted. When Gladys turned to look at her, she quickly erased the scowl and feigned a cough.

  “What do we have here?” Eddie asked.

  “Looks like Max Ellison. I'll pay twenty dollars.”

  Lila leaned forward. Susan Walters stared at Max, her red lips turned up.

  Max's eyes were wide. He set down the computer and smoothed his plaid shirt with his hands. “Sorry to interrupt. I finally finished this computer. It's completely refurbished. I'll just get out of your way now.”

  A voice in the back of the room said, “I'll pay forty.”

  Pastor Lucas fidgeted in his chair, his eyes bulging. Max's face reddened. He laughed and crossed behind Eddie. But Eddie put a hand on Max's chest, stopping him.

  A smile spread across Eddie's face. “We're always up for creative new contributions. We don't want to hurt old Max's feelings, though. An evening out with a healthy young man is worth a lot more than forty dollars.” Max stiffened, his eyes stuck on the exit. Pastor Lucas stood up, his tense hands suspended in mid-air, his mouth hanging open.

  “Do we have fifty? Fifty right there. How about sixty? Sixty dollars. We can do better than that.”

  Oh, he's got to love this, Lila thought, glaring as the spectacle continued. Max did look uncomfortable, though. Maybe he was too good for the prospective bidders.

  Gladys elbowed Lila, but Lila looked straight ahead as if she didn't notice.

  Gladys leaned over. “If you won't do it, I'll get him for you.” Lila whipped toward Gladys. Her hands flew to stop the paddle.

  “Sixty-five dollars!” Gladys's paddle shot up into the air. Lila froze. This wasn't happening.

  “Saved by Grandma,” Eddie said. “Any eligible young ladies out there going to fight Grandma for him?”

  “Seventy,” a woman's voice called.

  “Eighty,” Gladys shouted, tugging the paddle from Lila's grip.

  “Do we have eighty-five? Going once, going twice, sold, to Grandma Gladys. You two have a splendid evening. I suppose she'll have you making freezer jam.”

  “Oh, he's not for me.” Gladys placed a hand on Lila's shoulder.

  A look of recognition crossed Max's mortified features and Lila covered her face.

  Matilda batted Gladys with her paddle from behind. “In a church, of all places,” she hissed.

  Lila turned her head as the sound of shoes clacked across the floor. Asher Whiting strode to the front of the room, dressed in his sharp suit, his hair perfectly styled.

  “If you don't mind, Eddie, I haven't had a date in awhile.” He blessed the room with a wide, good-humored smile. Several women grasped their paddles. She wasn't sure, but she thought Asher winked at her.

  “Certainly. Let's start the bidding at fifty dollars.”

  Pastor Lucas raised his hands to his balding head. He looked like he might cry.

  “Sixty dollars,” Susan Walters said.

  “Seventy,” a voice behind Lila called. Lila looked back, and Leona smiled and shrugged. Matilda whacked her with her paddle.

  “Eighty-five,” a brunette on the first row shouted.

  Betsy Barker grabbed Lila's hand and raised it, shouting, “Ninety,” so fast Lila hardly knew what was happening.

  “Ninety-five anyone? Going once, going twice, sold to—,” Eddie gave his wife a confused look, then understanding dawned on his face, “to Miss Lila Moore. Congratulations. Looks like you're going to get a fine welcome to Auburn. Just not from any of the young ladies. Hey, maybe we need to have you come up here. What do you say?”

  Lila glowered at Betsy, then dropped her head.

  Chapter 8

  Old Spice

  “Back behind the house?” Ada's voice squeaked slightly and she paused, her hand in mid-air as she reached to put a clean breakfast plate in the cupboard.

  “Yeah,” Lila said, eying Ada curiously as she dried another plate and handed it to her. “Since I own the property, I thought I should see what's on it. All of it.”

  Ada put the plate away and closed the cupboard, then bustled over to the counter without looking at Lila. She picked up a pile of mail and sifted through it. “You don't want to go back there, dear. That pond is dirty and stagnant. There are leeches and all sorts of nasty—”

  “But—”

  “I meant to talk to you about Max. I don't know what Gladys was thinking. That boy's not the least bit interested in dating after what his wife put him through. And so much of his time is devoted to that little girl. She's a bit different, you know. Needs a lot of attention. I'm sorry to see you get thrown into the middle of that situation. It could be very awkward.”

  “Don't worry. There's not going to be a date. Did you say pond?”

  Ada patted her hair in a nervous way. “Did I say—?” she twittered.

  “How big is it? That property must be larger than I thought.”

  Ada looked up, a steely glint in her eye. “Stay away from there. Please,” she added, but Lila knew it wasn't a request. The silence between them was as thick as custard.

  A horn honked outside, and both of them jerked their heads toward it. “Oh,” Ada said brightly. “There's Betsy. I certainly hope Goldie can fix what she did to my hair. We'll be back in an hour or two.”

  Ada grabbed her purse and hurried out the kitchen door. As soon as Lila heard Betsy's car drive away, she slipped outside.

  Ada had an air of authority, and it was clear she wasn't accustomed to being challenged. Lila didn't mean any disrespect, and certainly wouldn't dream of offending Ada. But it was her property now, and she'd convinced herself she needed to be familiar with the whole of it. Since she'd been too overwhelmed to step foot back in Isaac's house again yet, not even to clean, she considered this checking off her first item of business.

  That was what she told herself, but Ada's high pitched voice, her attempt and failure to sound casual about it, the look in her eye, made Lila determined to see the pond as soon as possible. It couldn't be all that dangerous. She knew Ada and her friends were so afraid of falling and breaking a hip like Cousin Alma that they tended to err on the safe side. But why did Ada want to keep her away?

  Lila searched behind the old house for a path. She was about to make her own way through when a bird flapped it's wings in the bushes nearby. She turned her head toward the movement and noticed the shrubs parted slightly. She pushed through to a neglected path.

  Apparently, Ada’s authority really was unquestioned. Regardless of it being private property, and there were several threatening signs along the way stating as much, one would think there were kids nearby who would be tempted to search for a cool pond on a sweltering summer day. It was obvious that no one had walked this path for some time, as the bushes grew so far into the path that Lila wished she had worn pants rather than a light dress. Already there were scratches all along her bare arms and legs. She gingerly touched a wound that ran up her calf. Blood welled up along it. She searched through the tall grasses until she found a large stick. Waving it before her, she held back the branches blocking her way.

  The path began to thin, and she saw light glinting off water through the trees. The sight of the pond surprised her. Ada had told her it was dirty, and that would have explained why no one trespassed here. True, it was no brilliant oasis, but water ran in and out, and overall it looked like a refreshing alternative to the heat.

  Everything was in shade, except for the dappled light which broke through the leaves here and there. The air still hung heavy and warm, but it was cooler in amongst the trees; cool enough that she had to slap a few mosquitos that left stinging welts on her shoulder and arms.

  The locusts were in full force. The metallic, buzzing sound swelled and pulsed, like an alien army. Th
e maddening noise grew louder until it almost threatened sanity, then broke off suddenly. It was eerily quiet. She’d never heard anything like the strange insects before coming here, and she wondered if she’d ever get used to them. She expected them to start their raucous chorus again any moment, but inexplicably, they remained silent.

  Lila walked to the edge of the pond and stood teetering on one foot while she removed a flip flop. Then she removed the other, holding them in one hand as she stuck a toe tentatively into the water. It was cool but not frigid, just as she'd expected. Lila bunched her skirt up in one hand and waded further in.

  Suddenly she froze and looked around her. It was still perfectly quiet, but she felt as though someone was watching. She tried to shake the feeling, telling herself that she was just spooked, and that the whiff of Old Spice cologne that floated across the water was only her imagination. She didn’t know when she'd ever felt so isolated before. Country living would definitely be an adjustment.

  She pulled a foot up, about to take another step, when something swooped down at her, wings flapping wildly in her face. She shrieked in surprise, throwing her arms over her head, then laughed at herself when she realized it was only a bird; a gigantic, creepy bird, but not life-threatening. She couldn’t help wondering what had spooked it.

  Lila looked out over the pond and wondered how deep it was. There was a darkness, suggesting that it was fairly deep in the middle, but she doubted that a little pond like this could be very deep. As she stared, she thought she saw the darkness shift, as if it were alive.

  Her own voice broke through the silence, and it was comforting to hear something real and sensible. “If you’re going to get spooked at every little thing, you might as well call it a day.”

  Lila had turned to go back, when the water churned around her. Bubbles tickled her legs and popped at the surface, as if some great creature had just exhaled from the depths of the pond. Then something wrapped around her ankle and pulled her off her feet. As her body hit the water she screamed, this time loud and hysterical. The sound that echoed around her was nearly unrecognizable; it seemed neither real, nor sensible.