by K X Douglas
“We friends, family, and enemies alike have come here today to mourn the sudden passing of Solomon Randolph Carter. I’m sure you’re all stunned. He was taken from us far too soon. Some of you may say that this is all part of God’s plan, or that Solomon is in a better place now. To those people, I’d like to extend a hearty ‘go fuck yourself’.”
He paused to take a deep breath. Pulling a square out of his breast pocket, he unfolded it and wiped away his tears.
“It’s always harder to grieve together than to grieve alone, isn’t it? I’m sure there’s no small number of you who just want to go home and drink right about now. I sure as fuck thought about it.
For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Tadhg Henderson. Solomon and I had known each other for ten-odd years. We didn’t grow up together or shit like that. When I first met him, we didn’t get along in the slightest. He thought I was a right fuckin’ bampot, and I’d say that’s mighty accurate. We started out as drinkin’ buddies at the same pub. I never did convert him over to the devil’s lettuce. Always told him that it would help him with his anxiety. Man was downright agoraphobic at times.
But he was always there when people needed him. He helped me out of a ton of shitty situations. I even crashed at his house for a while. He was everyone’s rock, keeping us grounded so that we didn’t fly away.”
Again, he paused. Gulping, he stared off into the distance for a moment.
“I was the one who found his body. This isn’t the first time I’ve given a eulogy for a dear friend who died too soon, and I’m almost certain it won’t be the last.
He never married, and he is survived by no children. I always told him that he’d make a good father, but he never found the right person.”
Peter looked around at the crowd that had gathered. They were all drowning in ugly tears.
“I’ll always miss you, mate,” he said, his voice now garbled. “We all will.”
He’s holding his tongue. There are so many things that he wants to say, but can’t.
Peter tried his best to replicate crying, but to anyone observing closely his tears still looked slightly off. He felt someone grab his hand, and he looked over to see Heidi leaning on his shoulder. On his other side, Serena wept into a handkerchief.
“He’s been talking about getting back together with mom, you know,” Serena said. “The professor’s death really did a number on him. Made him think about mortality.”
“God knows he’s had enough brushes with death,” Silas said. “He ought to retire soon, too. Won’t let me take over, though. Says I’m not ready.”
“Tell him that I’ll always be around to help,” Peter said. “It’s the least I can do. I’m thinking about switching majors so I can take over some of the professor’s work someday. I’m thinking anthropology or history. That way, I have an excuse to be looking into all those grimoires.”
Peter walked over to Solomon Carter’s tombstone and studied it. It didn’t really have any features that let it stand out from the other tombstones in the cemetery.
I’ll make sure to carry on your work, professor. I’ll keep everyone safe.
Minutes later, after wading his way through the sea of grieving souls, Tadhg caught up with the group. He embraced Serena and Silas at the same time. After they broke off, he approached the rest of the group and shook their hands, one by one.
“Thank you all for coming,” he said. “It really means a lot to me.”
“It’s no problem,” Peter said. “The professor helped me out a lot. By the way, Tadhg, remember when you asked me if a thing like me could even feel love? When I was driving you away from prison? I think I have my answer.”
“Do you, now?”
They watched as people lined up at Solomon’s grave to say their final goodbyes.
***
After the funeral was finished, Peter and Silas drove everyone back to campus. During the ride, Peter turned off the radio, and nobody spoke. The rain didn’t let up, so he had the windshield wipers on full speed for the whole trip.
Upon returning, they saw that a block party was being held at one of the nearby dorm rooms. When everyone spilled out of the cars, someone waved at them. From his sloppy movements, it was obvious that he was drunk. Loud dance music could be heard coming from a dorm room at one end of the cul-de-sac.
“I guess we didn’t have to plan a party after all,” Victoria said.
“I hope there’s enough alcohol for all of us,” Eric said. “I haven’t bought any lately, and I’m guessing the rest of you haven’t, either.”
They entered the dorm room, which was a four-person unit that looked far more cramped than it was due to the sheer volume of people inside. Strangers greeted them like long-lost friends as they made their way through the crowd.
Upon entering the kitchen, they saw that the counters were stacked with bottles of various hard alcohols, as well as several cases of beer. Everyone poured themselves a drink and watched the crowd, who were currently absorbed in a game of ‘Fuck the Dealer’ being played by a small group of people sitting at the kitchen table. Peter watched from over a player’s shoulder, trying to figure out what exactly the game entailed.
“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Isabelle asked. “To finally be able to relax and not worry about the catastrophe that could happen at any moment.”
“Yeah,” Peter replied. “Maybe we’ll finally be able to have the normal college experience. Whatever that is.”
“Hey, don’t say that!” Isabelle said. “You’ll jinx it!”
“I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” Victoria said. “Pretty much everyone who was a part of The Laughing Union is dead. I don’t think there are any other weird cults in the area who want to summon aliens to destroy the world or whatever.”
“Let’s hope not,” Peter said.
Someone set up a table for beer pong, and they took turns playing for much of the evening, getting thoroughly sloshed in the process. Peter was still terrible at it, and he didn’t want to “cheat” by growing extra limbs when strangers were watching. The only person he managed to beat was Silas, who had never played before.
Silas approached Peter, struggling slightly to walk in a straight line.
“You know, I think I might apply to the college for next year. Get a degree so I have an out into a safer career if the whole alien hunter gig gets too dangerous…or dries up.”
“Oh?” Peter asked. “What are you thinking of taking?”
“Forensic science,” Silas replied. I figure I could learn some things that would help me with my investigation work, too.”
He braced himself against the nearby counter to avoid falling over.
“Silas, are you okay?” Peter asked.
“I should be,” he replied. “I don’t normally drink that much that quickly.” He gave a soft laugh.
Serena brought her hookah, and a great many people partook. Even Isabelle decided to try some, hoping that it would help with the stress of recent events. Within the hour, a haze of smoke built up in the room, almost enough to obscure peoples’ vision.
Peter found himself trying every drug that he could get his hands on, all in an attempt to forget the day’s events. Though he didn’t have the reflex to cry in response to emotions that humans did, he couldn’t stop thinking about the funeral.
Is it always this depressing when someone dies?
“Peter, you doing alright, dude?”
It was Eric. He was tapping Peter on the shoulder, trying to get his attention.
He shook off whatever high was beginning to set in and tried to maintain lucidity.
“Yeah. I’m alright. There’s just a lot on my mind, you know?”
“I know.” He clapped Peter’s shoulder. “But it’s all over with now. Right?”
“Right. I haven’t been having any dreams, and as far as I know there haven’t been any other murders or disappearances.”
“It’s time for us to unwind. It won’t be long before w
e have to start preparing for finals, so we have to enjoy it while we can.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“God knows my grades need a bit of a boost. I’m not failing anything, but I could certainly be doing a hell of a lot better.”
Lachlan appeared out of the crowd and threw an arm over Peter’s shoulder.
“How are you holding up, man?” he asked.
“I’m holding up,” Peter replied.
“I forgot to tell you guys, I think we’re going to be playing another concert near the end of the month. You game?”
“Sure thing, man,” Peter said.
“Yeah, sure,” Eric said. “You guys were great. Are you opening for someone else again?”
“Nope, this time we’re the main event!”
“Lachlan, that’s awesome!” Peter said. “We should get the whole group together this time, though.”
“Yeah,” Eric said.
Peter braced himself against a nearby chair as the drugs really kicked in. Pulling it out, he sat down and stared at the wall, which he saw as undulating like the morning tide. If people were talking to him, he didn’t notice.
***
When morning came, Peter watched as everyone slowly woke up around him. Sunlight bled through his dorm window as they blinked the sleep out of their eyes.
“Hey,” he whispered.
Nobody said anything, but their stirring indicated that they all heard him.
He slithered off of the bed, still slightly groggy from the complex cocktail of drugs that had yet to leave his system. Picking up his phone, he saw that he didn’t have any messages.
Next, he went on his computer and checked the news for any signs of supernatural activity, such as mysterious murders, disappearances, or purported cryptid sightings.
To his surprise and relief, there was nothing.
Peter walked back over to his bed and nestled himself in the pile of tangled people.
“You were making sure that there wasn’t anything going on that you had to investigate, weren’t you?” Heidi asked.
“Yeah,” Peter said.
“Oh my god, just take a week off already,” Serena said. “You’ve got enough on your plate as it is with classes.”
“I guess you’re right,” Peter replied.
“At least don’t do anything on the weekend,” Victoria said. “Just relax. That’s what I’m gonna do.”
“Yeah, let’s relax while we can,” Lachlan said. “It’s the weekend: that’s what it’s for!”
“Alright, I guess I’ll take some time off, focus on classes for now,” Peter said.
He leaned back and zoned out.
Life was good. At least for today.
