Rachel's Folly (10 page)

Ben wanted to go stand in the back of the parlor, in a corner all by himself. He didn’t feel like talking to anybody—he just wanted to cry—but he forced himself to follow Edward to the front of the room.

Ben could feel the weight of people’s eyes on him as he and Edward took their places in the front pew. The minister came over to speak with Edward for a few moments as the mourners quietly began to fill the room. The mood in the parlor was somber and quiet. Many people looked genuinely moved. Ben heard people whispering their condolences, and a few were weeping. But the mood suddenly changed when Barbara Mosley walked in. Edward and Ben were listening to the minister’s instructions when Ben heard his mother’s voice and turned around to look at her. She was wearing a bright yellow pantsuit and plum-colored, patent leather pumps. She stood out from the relatively small crowd of family, friends and coworkers like a brilliant cockatiel in a gloomy pigeon coop.

Ben closed his eyes. “Oh dear God, here we go,” Ben said under his breath.

“Benjamin, Benjamin, come here child,” Barbara said in a loud, scratchy voice, walking towards him with her plump arms outstretched, ready to embrace him. Nearly everyone in the parlor turned to look at her as she made her way up the aisle. She had on thick makeup with dark, drawn-on, pencil-thin eyebrows, and her fine lips were stained with bright, ruby red lipstick. Her hair was short and wavy and dyed a brassy yellow-blond. “Come here, child, and give your mother a hug. How long have you been in town?” Ben didn’t respond. “Don’t look so glum, my son. It’s not a time to mourn.” She stood back and grabbed his arms. She looked at him and in a louder voice said, “It’s time to rejoice, for your sister is now in Heaven dancing with the angels. We should celebrate her life.”

Ben hugged his mother and noticed that people were watching them. He suddenly felt feverish and resisted the urge to tell her that she was making a complete spectacle of herself. He wanted to tell her he thought it was in very poor taste to come barging into a funeral home in brightly colored clothing, singing praises, crying out to be the center of attention at her own daughter’s memorial service. He wanted to tell her how ridiculous she was. He wanted to ask her how it was possible that his father was damned to eternal Hell for taking his life, but somehow Rachel was now dancing with the angels for doing the same thing. He wanted to say all of these things, but he didn’t. He held his tongue because, as angry as he was at that particular moment, he also felt sorry for her. He thought, perhaps in her disturbed brain, this was her way of coping with the loss.

Barbara turned her attention to Edward. “Edward, where’s my beautiful grandson?”

“At my mother’s. I really don’t think he’s ready for this.” Edward’s voice was detached and monotone.

Ben remembered how Jacob had completely broken down the night before when they finally told him his mother had died. It was one of the hardest things Ben had ever witnessed. The child screamed and called Edward a liar. He kept calling out for his mommy and cried himself to sleep. When he woke the next morning and realized she wasn’t coming back, he cried again.

“But, my dear Edward, death is part of life! It’s what makes life worth living. If we didn’t die, we would just keep going round and round on this carousel. We would have no purpose, no direction. Our real life begins when we die and ascend to the Lord’s side. You can’t keep that from a child.” She turned and looked around the room. “Oh, there’s Dr. Wilkinson. He probably wants to see me. I’ll be back,” she said and walked away.

Ben looked at Edward apologetically and scratched his head. “I know I’ve said this before, but I really do think she’s finally gone over the edge.”

“Yep,” Edward replied softly and soberly as he stared at the casket in front of him.

Ben looked back to see his mother talking to Dr. Wilkinson. Ben was surprised; she seemed even more removed from reality than he had previously imagined. He frowned and hoped she wouldn’t make more of a scene than she already had.

Just then, Elena and Jack walked into the funeral home. Elena was wearing dark sunglasses. Her black coat was open, exposing her pregnant belly, which protruded only slightly. Jack wore a classic tailored black suit and a glum expression. When Elena spotted Ben, she took off her glasses and quickly made her way over to him, Jack following closely behind. Ben and Elena held each other as tight as they could and she began to sob. Jack lowered his head and stood quietly at Elena’s side. After a few minutes, they let go of each other and wiped their faces.

Jack went to hug Ben. “I am so sorry for your loss. She was such a special person. Like I told Edward, if there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”

Ben cleared his throat. “Thank you, Jack.”

“I just don’t understand why such a beautiful person with so much to live for would do something like this. It’s so, so very …”

“Thank you, Jack,” Ben repeated tersely as he turned away.

Edward was sitting now, staring straight ahead with no expression on his face. Elena quickly sat down next to him. Ben moved over to sit on Edward’s left, to avoid sitting by Jack.

“Is everything alright?” Elena asked Edward. She cleared her throat. “What I mean is, do you like the way the service turned out?”

Edward continued staring at the casket and did not reply.

“Edward?”

“Yeah?” He turned his head slowly and looked at her.

“Do you like the way the service turned out?”

“It’s fine, Elena. Everything’s fine.”

It was then that Ben saw his mother walking up to the podium. When she got there, she adjusted the microphone to reach her mouth.

“Oh no, no, no,” Ben said as his stomach dropped.

Barbara tapped the microphone. “Is this on? Hello? Yes? Good afternoon, everyone,” she said with a slight smile and tilt of her head, which Ben assumed was an attempt at looking reassuring. “I’m Barbara Mosley, Rachel’s mother.” She paused for a moment and looked around the room. “And I just want to say a few words.”

Edward and Elena simultaneously turned their heads to look at Ben. He noticed a few people in the pew beside him also glance in his direction. Even the minister looked over at him with a worried expression. Ben was mortified. All he could do was shake his head in disbelief.

“I know many of you don’t know me, but let me say that no one here knew Rachel the way I did. Well, I am her mother, after all, so I’ve known her longer than anyone else.” She stopped and smiled again. “Let me tell you, she was suffering. Yes, suffering. She didn’t know how to handle all the evils in the world, but I’m here to tell you not to be sad, because now she’s dancing with the angels. She’s dancing and looking at all of us and wants us to be dancing, too, for she is with the Lord. It just goes to show you, no matter how good people seem to have it on the outside, if you don’t live for Jesus Christ, your life just doesn’t seem to be worth living.”

Ben put his hand over his mouth in astonishment. He wanted to disappear.

“My poor baby was weak, just like her father.” She nodded her head. “Yes, her father was weak, too. He took his life years ago. I’ve been through all this before. You know, the Devil can smell weakness like a hungry dog and throw you into the darkness, but only Jesus can bring light into your life. Young people think they know all the answers, right, Dr. Wilkinson?” She looked at him directly and waited for him to respond. He was noticeably uncomfortable, but gave a small nod in acknowledgement. “But you don’t know anything at all. Nothing. There is evil everywhere. Only Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. And don’t be fooled by false prophets, Buddha or Mohammad or yoga or whatever. Only Jesus can save you.“

Ben was now appalled. His sister’s dead body only a few feet away, his mother dressed like a clown in her canary-yellow outfit, giving this crazy speech—it was all so surreal. He was about to go up there and pull her off the microphone, but stopped himself, fearing she would resist and make a bigger scene.

“So don’t make the same mistake. Accept Jesus into your life now, before it’s too late, and you will dance with Rachel one day. If you really care about her, then you have to live for Jesus.” She raised her arms towards the ceiling. “Be happy and live for Jesus. Thank you, that’s all I want to say. Rejoice, and God bless you.” She looked out at the people sitting in front of her, seemed satisfied, and proceeded to walk to the back of the parlor. The room was completely still and silent. You could hear each footstep she took in her purple shoes as she made her way to the back.

Ben sunk low in his seat and slowly looked around the room to survey the damage. He saw people staring down at their shoes; some looking at each other with expressions that asked
what was that all about?;
and others glancing in his direction, obviously wondering how Rachel’s family was reacting. Edward grimaced, shaking his head while looking down at the floor. Ben was completely humiliated. He considered going up and saying something,
anything
to make up for what was undoubtedly the most bizarre eulogy anyone had ever heard. But then, to his relief, the funeral director stood and signaled the musicians to play a song.

* * *

After the service, Ben drove with Edward back to the house where some of the funeral attendees would meet. Edward drove in silence for nearly the entire trip. Ben was bewildered, dying for a drink and still recoiling at the thought of his mother’s speech. He couldn’t believe how unfair life was. He wondered how it was possible that someone like his mother could live such an uncompromising and resolved life while someone like Rachel could become so desperate as to take her own. His mother, whom he had admired as a small child but couldn’t stand once he was old enough to know better, was nothing but an embarrassment to him now. He silently wished that his mother was in Rachel’s place.

When they walked inside the house, he noticed that Elena and Jack were busy hosting the gathering, passing out coffee and pastries. Ben went directly to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack above the refrigerator. He helped himself to a full glass of pinot noir. He gulped down the contents and quickly refilled the glass. He pushed his fingers through his hair and loosened his tie as he dragged himself into the living room.

Jack caught his eye. Ben observed him making his way through the small crowd with a grief-struck look, stopping occasionally to console a mourner. He watched him move around the house, speaking softly, saying things like, “Yes, it’s so tragic. She was such a beautiful woman with so much to live for,” or “Yes, she did take her life at our home. It’s crazy. Elena and I are thinking about moving.” The more Ben watched Jack, the more he felt like confronting him, telling him to stop this charade. Ben wanted Jack to know that he knew about what he and Rachel did and that it might have been what drove Rachel to take her life. He watched Jack with more and more contempt until he finished off his wine and went back into the kitchen to refill his glass again. He had nearly emptied the bottle.

For a moment, Ben wondered if it would be rude to just leave now and come back once everyone was gone. Instead, he walked around the house and accepted condolences from various guests by nodding his head and smiling politely. He stopped and spoke with an old childhood friend he hadn’t seen in years. He kept the conversation short, a few hugs and hellos, then excused himself after just a few minutes. He needed some fresh air. Jack was standing by the back door talking to Edward, so Ben decided to try the side door. He walked through the dining room with his wine glass in one hand and the nearly empty bottle in the other. And that’s when he saw her.

Barbara was standing by the antique dining table, looking at Rachel’s family pictures hanging on the wall. She had her Bible tucked under one arm. She turned to look at Ben as he walked into the room.

“I don’t see any pictures of me in this house,” she said, disappointed. “It’s a miracle that Jacob even knows I’m his grandmother. You would think that Agnes is the only one who exists.” She turned her attention towards a photo of Jacob. “That child needs Jesus in his life now more than ever, and I’m afraid he’s just not going to get the guidance he needs now.”

“Stop it,” Ben said sternly.

“Stop what? Speaking the truth?”

“You already made a scene at the funeral home. Spare us your drivel. Don’t start anything here.”

“Made a scene?” She looked surprised. “Oh, that’s ridiculous. You’re just afraid of the truth, Son. I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Mother, has it occurred to you that your only daughter is gone? Have you stopped for one moment to think about what that means?” He moved closer and looked directly into her eyes. “Rachel’s dead. That was
her
funeral we were just at. We were supposed to honor her life, which ended tragically, by the way. It’s a tragedy. Only in your twisted head, it’s somehow a time to celebrate. Instead of honoring her, you went up in front of all those—” He gestured towards the guests in the next room.
“These
people, and spoke only of yourself. You have got to be the most narcissistic person I know.”

She glared at him and pointed her chubby finger at his face. “And where were you when your sister needed you? Oh, that’s right, you were thousands of miles away, running, always running when things get tough. You ran away from us, from your past—why? To start another life somewhere too far for us to wreck it? You can’t run away from yourself, Benjamin.”

Ben winced and felt his blood pressure rise. He wanted to slap her. “Shut up,” he said, hate in his eyes.

Barbara stood up as straight as a board. “You have
no
right to speak to me that way. You should have more respect. I raised you and sacrificed for you and Rachel
all
my life. I only wanted the best, but you’re just like him,” she glanced at the ceiling, “your father. He never cared about me. He only cared about drinking and chasing after whores, and … and now both my husband and my daughter leave me…”

“Stop it! There you go again. For Christ’s sake, this is not about you!” His voice became louder and more forceful.