The ride from the funeral home to the cemetery took only fifteen minutes, and Billy managed to talk Ebenezer into riding in the Cadillac with his mother and him. Ebenezer balked quite understandably at first, though he’d finally acquiesced. Nora said nothing about the old man’s presence. She merely peered out the window detached, lost, unseeing. They rode in uncomfortable silence.
Elizabeth was to be entombed in the family crypt near the back wall of the old cemetery. Nora’s great-grandfather had been a wealthy man until just before his death and he’d built the tomb years earlier for his family and as many descendants as would fit. Even now it was sparsely populated; fifty-seven years after his death saw very few of his blood line. The tomb was a crumbling testament to the excess that had brought him down and the slide his genes had taken since. Nora had paid several hundred dollars two years before to have it painted but the thin whitewash and sloppy preparation were already beginning to show; the whole structure had a shadowy pall, emphasized further by large patches of mold regaining lost territory.
Nora walked ahead of Billy and Ebenezer when she got out of the car, her head down, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She appeared to follow a taut line no one else could see. There were less than twenty people for the service, Thomas not among that number. Ebenezer brought up the rear of the thin procession, waiting on Billy’s slow, limping pace. Most of the attendees were young, but even so not many said much to Billy. “You okay?” Ebenezer asked as he slowed to pull abreast. Billy answered with an almost imperceptible nod as he hobbled along on the crutches.
The mortuary staff had come in through the back gate and waited quietly while the elder watchman of Odd Fellow’s unlocked the rusty padlock and swung the family tomb door wide. Then they wheeled the coffin into the musty gloom of its destination to lay in state until the service was done. The darkness inside seemed to Billy a greedy maw, its appetite insatiable. It was impossible not to think about the place in there for him also, biding its time as each day passed, secure in its eventual reward. He shivered in the cold air as he considered Time’s erosive measures.
Even though the service was Catholic it was shorter than most. Words were hard to find when the deceased was a suicide, and the priest was noticeably aloof. The man had a strong, forbidding jaw in the cold morning air, and eyes that looked to hold little mercy. But he was old and a victim to his habits, so Billy did not fault him. In fact, he cared little what this man thought. He knew the truth. He felt Elizabeth’s presence like a fist around his heart. And he did not fault Thomas either; he’d called and Billy readily identified the grief, the shock as Thomas fumbled through his excuse. Everyone handled things in their own way. Billy could begin to see this,that these lessons only came with time.
Nora stood alone until Ebenezer pushed Billy her direction. He hobbled over and stood beside her, staring silently into the tomb as if half-expecting Elizabeth to come walking out. But it was no day for Lazarus, the new dead would lie side by side with the old. Despair and hope wrestled like two invincible angels, their blows landing beyond the level of human understanding. When it was over no one would recall a word the priest had uttered. The entourage left as one, somberly filing by the pair whispering their words of leave, leaving behind their bouquets of flowers and empty promises to stay in touch.
Billy looked to Ebenezer as the crowd thinned, the question in his eyes plain. Ebenezer shook his head and thumbed over his shoulder, letting the boy know he wouldn’t be riding back to the funeral home with them. It was time to take his leave. Billy nodded and turned back, starting down the sidewalk away from the old man with Nora close in tow. As they passed around the corner of another family crypt, Ebenezer saw Nora reach out and grasp Billy’s arm. Billy continued looking straight ahead, but thankfully he did not pull away. The old man cringed when he heard the clanging iron door shut on Elizabeth.
He later found himself walking. Walking and crying for a girl he’d never met but seemed to know and understand nonetheless.
Chapter 71
A light rapping roused Ebenezer from the doze he’d fallen into in front of the television. He shook his head to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, assured he was not when the noise came again. He hurried to his feet already knowing who he’d find. It’d been almost two weeks since the funeral and Ebenezer had made no attempt to get in touch, knowing instead Billy would appear when the time was right. The ragged edges of despair and mourning had to be filed away first. The soul had to be allowed to heal itself or go spiraling.
Because of his anticipation he’d left the door unlocked every night until late in the evening, finally throwing the bolt only before shuffling off to bed. Waiting on the visitor, biding silently until the time was right. “Com’on, Billy,” he called, digging around in the jumble of clothes tossed around his recliner in search of the remote control. Finding it, he clicked off the mindless chatter just as he heard the front door open, and then a few seconds later, close. The sound of slow footsteps sounded in the foyer until Billy stood ghost-like under the archway to the living room. The dim light could not hide his unhealthy pallor.
“Knew it was me again…” he said, offering the attempt of a smile. His familiar warmth was almost completely obscured by grief.
“Was hopin so,” Ebenezer admitted, walking over and grasping Billy’s hand. “Ya’all right, son?” he asked. Billy nodded and moved around the old man to the couch. He still limped but the crutches were gone. Against his chest he carried a paper bag, obviously containing a bottle.
“All right,” he answered. He smoothed out the seam of his pants and looked at Ebenezer. An unhealthy silence followed, one that Ebenezer found himself unable to break. “I quit my job,” Billy said, easing back on the couch.
“Uh huh.” Ebenezer walked back to the recliner and sat down heavily. “No good or bad in that, eh? Plenty for a young fella ta do.” He smiled across the room as Billy ran a hand across his lips. A fleeting smile was not hidden by the gesture.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. How’s the shoulder?”
“Right as rain,” Ebenezer replied, giving it a brisk slap to prove the point.
“Doesn’t hurt?” Billy’s eyes were like stones.
“Naw, not much,” the old man lied. “What ‘cha got in the bag?”
Billy pulled out the bottle and held it up to the light. “Turkey, Eb. Thought you might like a drink.”
“Ya thought right!” Ebenezer exclaimed, clapping his hands together. He made to get up but Billy motioned him to sit back down.
“I’ll get the glasses and the ice. Take a load off. I haven’t done shit all day.” Ebenezer sunk back into the familiar depths of the chair and feinted martyrdom. “Me casa es su casa,” he tried with a horrible accent.
Moments later, he heard ice rattling into two glasses. Billy came back and handed Ebenezer his and they both took a quick knock. “Angel in disguise,” Ebenezer complimented as the boy sat down, placing the drink between his legs and the bottle on a side table next to the couch.
“First I’ve been out in days,” Billy admitted. He licked his lips. “Haven’t felt up to anything, just laying around in bed all the goddamn time.” He brought the drink to his lips and drained away a good portion of it. “A sorry motherfucker…” he whispered, guilt filing his voice down sharper than any amount of whiskey could. “After a few days I ended up calling in and telling them I quit. Couldn’t go back. Started seeming like every minute I was there a little more of my life slipped past without me catching hold of it.”
Ebenezer nodded silently and drank.
“I think Mother’s going to be all right. She fucked up, but she’s still busy configuring some kind of plan, some justification I guess. Even ate dinner over there a couple of times last week and all she’d talk about were the divine theories she’s hatched up. Crazy talk, it sounded to me.” He paused, hunting for something on the walls. Then, almost offhand, “Her eyes don’t tell the same story her lips do, Eb. They’re dull and tricked, li
ke the biggest joke in the world’s suddenly been played on her and she’s just starting to catch the punch line.” He finished the drink in a gulp and refilled his glass. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle out.
Ebenezer polished off what was left and took the bottle from Billy. He slowly poured himself another one, the whole time fixing his eyes on the young man sitting across the room from him. Then he put the cork back and gave Billy a hard stare. “Don’t know if I like the sound a all this, Billy. All this shit’s around the corner. I wanna know how you are,” and he stopped himself, surprised at the bluntness and potential for confrontation of this statement.
Billy didn’t flinch. A small, spreading, ironic grin twisted itself across his face. “Can’t fool you, can I?” He paused. “You already know I’m fucked up.”
“No, no, no I don’t. I think the world tricks people inta believin that shit sometimes, but it ain’t necessarily so, like the ole song says. I only know ya’re hurtin, that ya’re not sure what ta believe.” A decision hung heavily in the air. Ebenezer set his drink down on the floor next to the chair and cleared his throat. “Lemme tell ya another story, Billy. This one’s about a old man who thought he was supposed ta keep on payin for sins he took on years back. Only thing was, he saw after a while, wasn’t nothin ever gonna be enough.
“Took a long time ta see what it actually was, but I guess in the end ya can teach a ole dog new tricks,” he said, his eyes flashing like lightning in a troubled sky. “Ya know the ole man’s me, and I’m here ta tell ya, what ya’re thinkin ain’t no goddamn good, all this guilt, all them coulda shoulda questions.”
Billy leaned forward and met Ebenezer’s eyes, realizing the potential of the moment. Ebenezer continued, “When I look at’cha I see m’self. Makes me afraid. Not for me, for you. You got the potential I pissed away! And now I’m old and see it don’t matter no more! Look! Do ya think people give a flyin fuck ‘bout a old man an his problems? Problems that’re even hard for me ta get a fix on these days? It don’t mean shit!” he exclaimed, gesturing wildly, a prophetic heat building in his eyes. He picked up the drink and swallowed the rest of the rich liquid down. Then he closed his eyes and his throat worked convulsively.
“Had this friend when I got back from the service,” he said, suddenly back in his telling mode. “Flew sev’ral missions tagether over Germany. Like a brother ta me, ‘e was. And then the War was over and we were back in the States. He invited me ta a relative’s house one day; they lived on a river in Mississippi (forgot what the name was), and that’s probably best.
“Well, we set off this afternoon; Christ, it was gorgeous. Blue skies, nice breeze, just gorgeous. Ended up anchorin in the shallows a this little inlet beach where it was real quiet, the water like glass. Ours was the only boat, and we had sev’ral women with us, see? It’d been a long, hard haul overseas and we’as ready for a little R & R. ‘A course my wife didn’t know we had any ladies with us, and in reality I only kissed one a em once, but it coulda gone further. Only didn’t outta other circumstances; I’m just too goddamn old now ta try convincin myself otherwise. I didn’t fuck nobody, but it don’t mean I wasn’t gonna. Sometimes I wonder if things woulda worked out different if I had, but ain’t no sense wonderin them things.” He paused, reflecting across the years. “It don’t make one fuckin bit a difference anyhow.
“Three a us were in the water, leavin Johnny and Mike on the boat. Everbody drinkin and listenin ta music. Louie Armstrong was huge back then. Jus havin fun…” and Ebenezer wiped the sweat from his brow. “I don’t know how long we’as out there but all uva sudden Mike started yellin at me, lookin for Johnny. Wanted ta know where he was. I said how the hell should I know? I’m in the fuckin water! Last time I saw ‘im he was on the fuckin boat!” A fierce agony burned across Ebenezer’s face. Billy said nothing.
“I saw Mike look around. He moved toward the back right as this little bell started goin off in my head. Swear ta God, it was the weirdest thing, like nothin else existed except the sound a that bell. I was treadin through the shallow water as fast as I could, not knowin why, or at least tellin myself that. But I did know. Death has a particular smell…and it carries. Once ya learn somethin like that it never leaves ya. Like ridin a bicycle.
“By the time I got onta the deck Mike was sloggin back through chest-deep water, draggin Johnny along like some water-logged sack. I’m tellin ya, Billy, ain’t nothin touches a sight like that. I seen dead bodies, boys blown ta bits so small ya’d have a hard time spottin some, but there’s somethin altogether different when ya know that person. He was the color a newspaper, all except for his feet and they was a deep black-blue.
“Mike threw him up ta me and we just went ta work on ‘im, pumpin his chest and blowin air down his pipes. Water and mucus and other shit come bubbling out…there ain’t no description. I was watchin through this dazed veil, a Zone. Weren’t no comfort there. Only isolation and a bitter unadulterated knowledge that nothin was gonna be the same again. Somethin I never felt in the War. It was as if I suddenly peered into the deepest reaches a Hell and saw nothin except ancient, lost memories and an endless silence that wouldn’t never end.” Tears spilled out of Ebenezer’s eyes but he paid them no mind. They caught in his beard and reflected the light coming in through the curtain as he moved his head back and forth.
“I still remember while we were pumpin on him, still ta this day as clear as it ever was. I remember lookin off ta the bank and seein things that seemed ta dance just outta sight, close ta the edge a the water but filtered by the trees and the dim sunlight that kept fightin to get through. A feelin a true evil. And that’s when it hit me that one solid blow. No matter what the outcome would be, nothin was ever gonna be the same again… we’d passed over the Edge.”
Ebenezer paused and put his chin in his hand. He searched out the words carefully, surprised at their sound after being buried for so long. Their meaning seemed to disintegrate when they were voiced, but with their speaking also came relief, a house cleaning. He could not stop. Not now.
“He did live,” Ebenezer continued, “but paralyzed. A man who didn’t breathe for almost thirty minutes, suddenly alive again! I thought we’d performed a miracle. He was my Lazarus, but even then I didn’t feel real victory or defeat. It was all exhaustion and emptiness, somethin ‘at made no sense at all.
“I’ll tell ya why, Billy. He lived four miserable months unable ta do anythin except blink ‘is eyes. Everythin else—gone. His breathing was shallow and it hurt ta watch him. These huge tears would roll outta his eyes and ya could see him screamin behind that prison. Trapped. After four months he simply slipped off one day. And that was it. Only that. It made me wonder what the hell’s the point? Why would a merciful God allow somethin like that? He was already dead, for Christ’s sake, why the extra sufferin? I’as always taught since I a young lad that everthin happened for the best; that there’s purpose behind every tragedy. But I could never justify that.” Ebenezer looked down at the floor and scratched his head.
“That’s when I stopped believin in miracles,” he said very low.
He grabbed the bottle and poured himself another drink in the large tumbler, this one so full that it breached the top and spilled onto his lap. He paid it no mind, knocking back a quarter of the drink with his first shot before offering the bottle back to Billy. Billy took it in the same dead-pan silence, and set his glass to the side. He chose to drink it straight from the neck.
“I don’t know if any a this shit makes sense,” Ebenezer continued. “But I had a wife once and she was a fine little thing. Whole time I’s overseas I saw her face in my dreams and that was the one thing ‘at kept me goin. She become my perfect postcard. A symbol in my mind a everthin good. I guess that day on the boat I still believed that about her, or at least, that’s what I been tellin myself all these years.
“But she wasn’t. She wasn’t the blessed virgin I manufactured over the battlefields because while I was away she had an affair and turned up pre
gnant. She knew that wouldn’t do so she had it fixed.
“Somethin went wrong and we couldn’t have kids. I found out about it after a few years and went fuckin berserk. By the time I stopped rantin and ravin she was dead. Killed herself with a pistol I brung home from the War. One after another steady combination a fuck-ups.” Ebenezer drained the drink and closed his eyes. He placed the glass at his crotch and brought both hands up to rest plaintively on the armrests. The thick smell of the whiskey hung in the air like an old curtain.
“That was over thirty years ago, boy. I never got remarried and I never had any kids. I just stopped tryin. Ya see, after she died all I did was think, every fuckin day, mullin over things that wasn’t gonna change. And I started wonderin about the accident on the boat that day and how it never made any sense, and then Sarah’s death and how it made just as little. I began thinkin ‘bout purpose…I tole ya I didn’t fuck any a those women on the boat that day, and for years I thought that made me a better person somehow. Better than Sarah.
“But it ain’t true. Sure I didn’t fuck anybody that day, but it don’t mean I wouldn’t’ve. I didn’t handle my drink then the way I do now, and I probably woulda had a swing with one or two a em as the day got on. But Johnny’s accident got in the way. It saved me from doin somethin I shouldn’t have but that don’t mean I was excused. I perverted whatever that thing was and used it as pride, me not doin what she couldn’t resist. I built up a wall that grew so thick and tall I couldn’t see over or around it.
“I had a look like the one ya got in your eyes now, Billy,” Ebenezer told him, shaking his head slowly before stopping. His eyes were crystalline, as hard now as diamond.
Not Far From Golgotha Page 26
