Chapter 5

John listened to the priest as he went through the prayers for the funeral. His treatment of this occasion was as if it were an event of little importance. The priest looked bored and went through the actions by rote. The occasional bursts of passion appeared when he remembered that a woman from the press was listening. It was soon John’s turn to give the eulogy. He noticed the woman sit up straighter and he knew why she was here.

John stepped up to the podium. He looked across the handful of faces that stared back at him. Her family was present, a few neighbors, and a couple of people that were friends of his. This was a vastly different experience than the funeral of Betsy, yet Mrs. South was in many ways just as important to him. His medallion burned, as he cleared his throat.

“When we look at the elderly, we see wrinkled faces, a fight against gravity that has been lost, and bodies that show the ravages of time. Young people, with faces unblemished and unmarked by cares of the world, look at the elderly and see ugliness. The person they see is not ugly. The ugliness is the future of woe and pain that the young see staring back at them.

“Let us consider for a moment the lines etched upon their faces. These lines reflect the life and the experience of the person. It’s tempting to say that the deeper the line, the more experience the person has with the cause of that line. However, life uses different size chisels to carve our experiences upon our bodies.

“Some lines are deeply etched. Hard work, fears for their children’s happiness, fights with illness, and concerns about money carve deep lines. It’s hard to ignore them. It’s tempting to say that these concerns represent the majority of a person’s life. That is wrong. The chisel used to carve those lines is heavy and wielded by a clumsy hand.

“However, there are other lines etched with a more delicate touch. Laugh lines around the eye brought about by years of laughter, shared pleasure, and interesting conversations. We see these lines and say this was a jolly person. It’s remarkable that such lines even exist because the chisel is fine and wielded by a soft hand.

“Finally, there are lines so finely wrought that it’s almost impossible to see them. These lines come from intimate sharing. The young miss these lines completely. They can’t see that grandma or granddad used to sit at the soda shop gazing lovingly into each others eyes. What young person can imagine granny getting her first kiss under the apple tree and cherishing that moment her whole life? Not many.

“Mrs. South was like a mother to me. She taught me many things about life and love. She reminded me that all people, young and old have more things in common than two arms and two legs. She taught me to read the wrinkles on the face and to see the life reflected on it as it was truly lived.

“She taught me about love. She loved many people and many loved her in return. She told me stories about the people she knew. Most of the stories were tame while some others were risqué. That is the nature of intimacy. Much of it we won’t talk about in public or in private. The elderly tend not to talk at all about it as they feel they would look foolish. To hear an old person tell about when they were young, attractive, and desired by many sounds contradictory with their current appearance.

“I look around this room and see few people in attendance beyond family and neighbors. Does that mean she had few friends? No, she had a lifetime of friends. She outlived so many, that there are few in the room. As people get older, they tend to get isolated. The frailties of age make them easy targets by unscrupulous villains. This is such a shame. All young people should have the chance I had to live with someone like her and learn the lessons of life from one that has experienced them. Instead, they turn to others just as ignorant as themselves for advice.

“Mrs. South, I am proud to say, had a boyfriend even at her age. Their romance was unlike any I’ve seen in the young. They decided that they liked each other over coffee. There were no games, no little attempts to deceive. There was a refreshing directness in their interaction. They started honestly and stayed honest. They knew that at their age they didn’t have time to waste. I wish the young people in this room could have learned how to love others from them. I wish more of the elderly would take the risk and reach out to each other for love and affection.

“For those of us gathered here to say goodbye to Victoria South, let us remember that she was a woman of great passion and she carried that passion with her to the very end. She loved life and the people around her with an intensity that awed those who knew her best. Thank you, Victoria South, for sharing your life with me.”

John sat down and looked around. The room was quiet and the priest remained to the side thinking over John’s words. Many of the elderly in the room looked at each other with fresh eyes. Liz was crying as Herb held her gently. The grandsons gave him a thumbs-up sign. He knew they understood the message he had given.

The silence in the room stretched to a point that was uncomfortable. The reporter slowly eased her way out of the church. John wondered if he would hear about this on the news tonight. He stood up and walked over to the priest, tapping him on the shoulder. The priest was shaken from his introspection. He went to the podium and continued the service.

John returned to his seat. He watched the people around him. He thought about the letter that she had left him and her gift of the pictures to him. He hoped that his eulogy did her justice. The funeral was over quickly.

As John was leaving, the priest stopped him. “Dr. Carter, could I have a moment of your time?”

John nodded as he answered, “Sure. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to thank you for your words in there. You are a very charismatic speaker. You remind people that they should do their Christian duty to love one another. You have rejuvenated my faith this afternoon.”

John smiled at the irony. He answered, “Thank you. If I have helped you, then I have done my duty.”

“Are you a monk?” The robe and walking stick reminded him of a Dominican monk that he once knew.

John smiled as he answered, “I am the Grand Druid.”

The priest raised an eyebrow in surprise. He hedged and said, “I’m not that familiar with the Druids.”

“Do not fear, we serve good. Our Gods and Goddesses require us to place ourselves between evil and those that would be harmed. We respect the help and comfort that churches of all kinds provide to people.”

The priest decided that he would have to learn more about this cult. He politely replied, “I thank you again. I won’t detain you any more.”

John left knowing that the priest had his doubts about him. He smiled as to what the man would think after he looked into his background. He expected to get a visit from him tomorrow.

He took a few more steps and found himself beside the reporter. She was talking on her cell-phone to her grandmother. Her eyes were red and misty as though on the verge to tears. He smiled to himself when she saw him. She put her hand over the cell-phone before she asked, “Do you mind if I publish your eulogy?”

“I don’t mind. I said it for people to hear, remember, and share.”

She smiled and said, “Thank you, Dr. Carter.”

John nodded and walked away as she went back to talking to her grandmother. He stopped when he reached his rental car. Herb spotted him and came over to John in a fast walk. “Thank you, John. That was a lovely speech. Ah, about your offer the other day. Liz and I will be by tonight if that is alright with you.”

John smiled as he glanced up to the sky knowing that Mrs. South would be smiling down upon him at this moment. He answered, “That would be fine.”

“Good. For now, we are going to the seafood restaurant across the street for a little something to eat. Would you join us please?”

“Sure, I would love to join you.”

The meal with the Brown family was pleasant despite the circumstances. It was nice to know they felt comfortable in considering him part of the family. He was reminded of the Friday dinners with Betsy and Mrs. South. Those had been fun days and nights. His life had not become any less fun, but it was a different kind of fun now.

The family talked about John’s eulogy. Liz had been particularly touched by it. The fearsome threesome had been more influenced by their grandmother than their parents realized. John knew that and respected their privacy in not talking about it in front of their parents. They were most enthusiastic in their appreciation for his eulogy stating that he had captured her spirit far better than they would ever be able.

John arrived at home. It was nearly seven and he expected Liz and Herb to show up after they had dropped their sons off at home. He hung the transparent cloth between the living room and dining room. He turned the lights on in the dining room. He sat in the dark living room.

He turned on the television to watch while waiting for them to arrive. He turned to the local channel to see what was happening in the area. He was shocked when he heard his eulogy being read on the air as a public message from the news station. They had found a man with a deep resonant voice that gave the message a stateliness that he could never achieve. He wondered how it would be received.

There was a knock on the door. Surprised that they would knock John stood up and let them into the house. He turned off the television. Liz asked, “What do we do now?”

John held his hands out with his palms up. “Well, you can go in the dining room. What you do in there, I may or may not see depending on whether I’m here or in my bedroom.”

Herb looked nervous and said, “I’m not really sure that I can perform with a possible audience.”

John put a hand on his shoulder as he said, “There’s only one person you have to concern yourself with, namely Liz. Don’t worry about me or anything else. I’m sure that things will be perfect.”

As the couple moved into the dining room, John turned on a radio to a soft music station. They looked back at John, but could not see if he was standing there. They stood awkwardly looking at each other. After a bit, Herb suggested they dance to the music.

John watched as they slowly moved around the room dancing and holding each other tightly. After the second song, Herb kissed her. She responded hesitantly, looking once in the direction of the living room. With time, the kisses became more passionate and their touches more intimate.

When Herb began to remove her clothes, John left the room. He knew that it wasn’t necessary for him to watch, only for them to think he might be watching. He looked up and winked, feeling that Mrs. South would see him. She must be happy, now that her daughter had taken a major step.

He lay down on his bed and thought about the conversation with Ed the other night. Ed had suggested they had a big problem that couldn’t be handled over the telephone. He had been reassured to learn that the wives were not upset or angry at them. Apparently, the tea party that Ed had interrupted had not been a tea party at all, but a delegation of women presenting a demand upon the wives. Ed wouldn’t tell him the nature of the demand, but after reading the letter from Mrs. South, he had an idea.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. He glanced at the clock and realized that he had been lying there for an hour. He got up and opened the door. It was a very happy Herb. “Would you like to talk to us in the dining room over some coffee?”

John smiled as he answered, “Sure, I’ll be happy to join you.”

The men entered the dining room and sat at the table. Liz was humming in the kitchen as the coffee perked. She looked through the shelves searching for something on which to snack. Finding some pretzels and chips, she put them in two separate bowls. She brought them out to the dining table; setting them in easy reach of everyone. She disappeared from the room, returning after a minute with coffee cups. She sat down while the coffee maker continued to gurgle.

Liz looked at John and asked, “So how long did you stay?”

John smiled and shook his head. He answered, “I’m not saying.”

“I hate to say this, but mother was right. We had the best sex of our lives here this evening. It reminded me of when we were dating and things would heat up before the end of the date. Usually, we would end up in the living room necking. We were terrified that my mother would come in and catch us with his hand on my breast or something.”