Talisman (48 page)

I felt
fortunate I was able to keep most of my tears under control, but upon hearing the Dyson’s
genuinely
came to see my father off like that, my luck ran out.  Tearfully, I thought about how in a small-town like Welch, most people who came to these things treated a funeral more like a “social gathering” followed by “free food” —
not all
— but a good number of them.  Their gesture tugged at my heartstrings as I took a tissue from my purse to dab the corners of my eyes.

“That was
so kind
of them…I don’t mind at all,” I replied.  I was glad they were officially “the first”.  Mr. Ramsey gave me an endearing smile and started to walk away.  I quickly grabbed his arm.

“Don’t mention this to my mother.  I’ll tell her when the time is right — like
Mother’s Day
,” I announced and headed into the viewing room.

My eyes honed in on the room’s obvious centerpiece.  The somber sounds of a piano playing in the background
flooded my ears.  I walked along the red velvet runner in a daze.  Though the room was very bright and full of beautiful flowers, it seemed cold and dismal.  My heart pounded faster and faster with every step I took, until I’d finally reached the elaborate, dark walnut coffin.

I stood there and gazed at my father.  The funeral home had done an excellent job.  The handsome, but weathered coalminer looked soft
and angelic resting against the pillows of tufted white satin that surrounded his upper body.  He lay there, dressed for the last time looking his Sunday best — decked out in his favorite black suit and a new, crisp-collared white dress shirt.  He was even wearing my favorite necktie, a modern harlequin design accented with muted fall colors.  I found that triviality very pleasing.  His hair was styled just as he preferred it, parted perfectly and flowing softly towards the left.  I remembered worrying about that last night, hoping whoever fixed it would get it right.  I softly ran my fingers along his cheekbone.  His skin felt cold —
ice-cold
— like I had grabbed something out of the fridge.  Though I’d found it somewhat startling, my fingers never flinched.  I guessed for some reason I expected it to be
warmer
, since his face was radiating a subtle glow.  The make-up may have fooled my eyes, but my heart was well aware of its artificial source.  Nevertheless, he looked at peace.

I felt a tear stream down my cheek as I thought about my father’s blue-green eyes, his
kind eyes,
while I gazed at his closed lids.  How they would light up whenever he smiled.  How energizing and uplifting they were. 
I’ll never see them again
.  I feared I would forget them and not be able to conjure them up in my mind at will.  Their memory had been replaced with the image of them on that fateful night — two murky pools of darkness.  The pain in his eyes would torment me forever. My hands clinched the side of his casket. 
I have to know who did this to you!
  I heard some people dawdling up the aisle behind me.  I took a deep breath and looked down at my father once again. 
And how did you know about Adamas?

No sooner than I
’d turned around, I was bombarded with hugs and profound condolences.  So many people were flooding in to pay their respects to my father that it was
overwhelming
.  A wave of anxiety took hold of me abruptly, and I found myself struggling to even speak, let alone reciprocate any affection.  Finally, after the first group of attendees had passed, I managed to sneak off to the powder room to pull myself together.

As I emerged
several minutes later, somewhat refreshed, I caught my first glimpse of Mike Riverside, huddled up in a corner by the main entrance consoling Chloe.  The last time I’d seen Mike was when he was being dragged off through the woods.  Tanner Grey claimed that, “Mike was
possessed
by the Onyx”, but nevertheless, I hadn’t absolved him from the part he’d played in the evening’s harrowing events.  Realistically, I knew my anger was misplaced, but I couldn’t help it.  His presence annoyed me, especially knowing that he (well, his soul, that is) had kept me from getting help for my father.

Mike
scanned the room in all directions.  I couldn’t tell if he was searching for someone, or if he was just nervous.  As our eyes met, I realized it was a combination of both.  Mike’s face became pale, and he seemed fidgety.

I overheard him tell
Chloe, “You look like you need some air,” and then he swiftly ushered her outside.  Funny thing though, he looked back my way repeatedly, almost fixated on me.

Whatever…
He’d just better make sure that his eyes are the only thing on “my side” of the room!

Even though
Tanner Grey had assured me that Mike wouldn’t remember anything about that night, his actions fueled my suspicions. 
Was there a slight chance he actually did remember what had happened?
  I intended to question him when the opportunity presented itself. 
Something’s making him act funny.  However this
, I thought realistically,
is not the time, nor the place
.

As I
headed down the hall, I spotted Uriah Hatfield and nodded to him.  He gave me a gentle nudge as we passed each other.  I supposed that his little gesture was the gruff old security guard’s way of expressing his sympathy.  Though I had to admit, it was the first time I’d ever seen a hint of a smile on his normally, grumpy face.

When I reentered the viewing room, I was astounded by how packed it was.  Friends and local residents w
ere entering the room in droves.  There really wasn’t enough room for everyone.  Surely, most of them were here just for the wake portion.  I could tell a lot of the miners had taken off early for lunch, just so they could stop by and pay their respects to Daddy.  They poured into the funeral home, sporting their finest coal-stained “bank clothes”.  There were so many of them it was starting to look like a union meeting.  Daddy would have been touched.

As I stood
back out of the crowd’s way, I felt a couple of steady taps on my shoulder.  I turned to see Samuel, who gave me a firm hug as he cozied up beside me.  I smiled as I took in his out-of-the-ordinary attire.  Samuel looked very sharp in his three-piece dark-gray suit.  His normally stubble-speckled face was clean-shaven, and I even caught a woodsy scent of fresh pine trees.

“How’s my girl holding up?” Samuel asked uncertainly.

“I’m okay…
I guess
.”  I looked around the room and sighed.  “Samuel, do you think people would mind if I told everyone to leave, so I can climb inside the casket with Daddy and cuddle with him one last time…like when I was four?”

Samuel let out a laugh and shook his head.

“You can stay, of course,” I added.  “After all, someone will have to make sure my mother doesn’t try to lock me inside the casket.”

Samuel put his hand ove
r his mouth to cover his grin.  “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he chuckled.

I shot him a serious look. 
“I
wasn’t
kidding.”

Samuel and I stood there and watched as more people arrived, just as others were leaving.  We chitchatted about how
nice Daddy looked and commented on all the lovely arrangements people had sent.

My mind drifted off into another daze.  I started thinking about the vision I’d had at the dance when I went “flower-picking” in Kara’s bouquet.  It dawned on me as I looked around the room, feeling stricken with an unbearable amount of grief, that
this
was what I’d seen.  I remembered the strikes of the piano keys, the brightly lit room, and the colorful rays of light as they passed through the stained glass windows and danced on my hands.  The lavender spider mum I’d focused in on was from one of the countless flower baskets scattered around the somber space.

I’d seen my father’s death, in a roundabou
t way.  I know Tanner Grey said the visions occurred randomly, but why couldn’t that one have been a little clearer?

Again,
I felt another small tap on my shoulder and turned to apologize to Samuel for ignoring him.  But it
wasn’t
Samuel.  Apparently, he had wandered away while I stood there lost in the thoughts of my vision.  Instead, I found myself looking into the eyes of none other than Tyler Smith.

“I’m so sorry, Shiloh,” Ty said softly.  “I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news.  Are you
okay?
”

No sense in putting up a front for him
.

“I’m
doing as good as to be expected,
I suppose
.  Right now, I feel pretty empty inside, but full of sadness…both at the same time.”  Ty gave me a somewhat unexpected, lingering hug.

“Now I know why I didn’
t hear from you the other night,” Ty said, somber and confident.

My eyes closed unconsciously as
Ty held me in his arms. 
That was kind-of-the-reason.  Why bring up the fact that Mike had been possessed by some supernatural being called “the Onyx” and tried to kill me while my father lay there dying?
  If by some small chance Ty believed me, he’d be on his butt again like white on rice.  I really didn’t think another one of their “smack-downs” would be appropriate for a funeral, so I played along.

“
Yeah,” I agreed.

As our embrace broke, I
gazed back at him and hinted a coy smile.  Yet again, he was looking as fine as he did on the night of the Homecoming Dance. 
Dress clothes certainly suit him
, I noted silently. 
But I would take him in a sweaty t-shirt and jeans any day of the week
.  I lowered my head slightly when I felt my face start to flush.

“I’m glad you were able to come,” I replied appreciatively.

“A lot of us wanted to come, but Mrs. Tuttle wasn’t giving out passes to just anyone.  You know how she is.  Mike got one because his father was your dad’s boss.  She was about to tell Katie, ‘no’, when she started tearing up and informed Mrs. Tuttle that, ‘she be had to be there for her
bosom friend’
.  She’s outside trying to find a place to park.  She’ll be here in a second.”

Mrs. Tuttle, our school’s guidance counselor (and affectionately called “the warden”)
, was a stickler about attendance.  She
hated
funerals.  Since everyone pretty much knew everybody in town, she thought a funeral was the perfect way for students to skip out on a half-day of school.  You had to have a pretty good reason to attend one if you weren’t a family member.

“So, why did
she let
you
come?” I asked. 
What could he have possibly said to persuade her?

“
I, um
…I kind of told her you were my um…
girlfriend
,” he confessed.  “You know, so she’d let me come.”

Ty seemed a bit embarrassed. 
Now I was even more curious. 
Was it from having to tell her that, or me?
  I decided to probe deeper into his little bomb of an admission.

“And she
believed
you?
” I asked with a restrained grin and a playful note of skepticism.  Ty caught onto the motive behind my inquiry.  He smiled and held his head up high.

“She
didn’t doubt it for a second…not after she told me that she’d seen us
dancing
the other night,” Ty added with a grin.

“
Oh
,” I mumbled softly, now feeling a bit embarrassed myself.

“Hey, um speaking of the other
night…What’s up with Mike?” Ty asked, sounding more than a little suspicious.

“I don
’t know,” I replied cautiously, not even looking in Ty’s direction. “I haven’t talked to him since Saturday night. 
Why?
”

Ty continued, “I spoke to him when he was leaving Mrs. Tuttle’s office and he
acted, I don’t know…
nervous?
I figured it was because of our fight the other night.  So when I saw him outside a minute ago, I tried to make peace by waving at him.  He just turned his head and ignored me. 
Something’s up
.”

I listened to his assessment of Mike’s behavior.  I had a thought of my own, actually three. 
Was it possible Mike remembered what happened that night? Or, was he feeling the way Tanner Grey had described after being “occupied” by the Onyx?  It sure sounded like a supernatural hangover-from-Hell to me.  Or even worse, was his head still clouded from the effects of the ruby-spiked cologne?  I hope not!
  I withdrew myself from our conversation to further contemplate my theories.  Ty noticed that I was in deep thought about something.

“Shi…
Mike didn’t
try anything
the other night?  I mean…he didn’t come on to you,
did he?
” Ty asked, his eyes every bit as flared as his nostrils.