Fall to Pieces (27 page)

I open my backpack and pull out the gnome. For the past month I’ve kept it in my bedroom, a constant link between Amy and myself. “I thought I should—” I stop speaking. There’s no need. They know what I want to do, and they’re in total agreement.

Good-bye, only witness to Amy’s death.

Good-bye, Ref.

The gnome falls into the grave and smashes one of the records in half.

The shattered pieces sink into the damp earth, sticking out like wedges of pie.

“Now I’m done.”

We all nod and get down on our knees again. We sweep the mound of dirt back into the grave. Bit by bit, we cover up the pieces of Amy’s spirit. The spirit that deserved so much more. The pieces disappear, eventually, becoming a part of the earth.

The gnome is no longer watching.