Theatrics

This writing is mostly the inner dialogue of an unusual character at a funeral.

God, I love funerals.

Okay wait, that sounds bad. I don’t love funerals; I like watching the people at funerals. The tears, the screams, the false acts of compassion--it's all very dramatic. Oscar worthy I'd say. Oh yeah and the flowers. Those are nice too. Hm... Maybe I do like funerals. I gotta say though, while I've been to some nice funerals, this one takes the cake. It's just downright unbelievable. They spared no expense with the money or the theatrics. Look. There goes Aunt Cathy.

A plump woman walked into to the chapel and immediately started howling, “Oh God why!?! Sweet, merciful God why!” She continued to wail and question God’s motives until she slumped over and had to be escorted to her seat.

Hahaha, Aunt Cathy. Her acting is getting better. When Uncle Oliver passed she sat rather quietly, quivering. It’s a little early and not everyone has arrived yet but I’m sure that, just as Aunt Cathy did, they’ll all make their attendance known. In the meantime, I’ll sit in the back and spectate. There are a few rather odd figures here already-- for instance, that guy.

By the window, a man stood holding himself. Every now and again he’d uncross his arm, rub his face, then cross them again. As time went on he seemed to lean further and further into the wall, eyes twitching ever faster, sweat rolling more profusely.

He looks uncomfortable to say the least. Speaking of which, do I look too comfortable? I should’ve brought a handkerchief or tissue to dab my face with. Ah. No matter. I’ll just wipe my face here and there to look morose.

“OH!” a woman screamed suddenly. “You came! We were starting to think you wouldn’t be able to make it.” She rushed to a woman’s side, gave her a prolonged hug. This woman was suddenly ambushed by other mourners, everyone wanting to give their own special condolences. Some said, “I’m sorry for you loss,” or “He was such a great man.” Those lucky enough to be standing within arm’s reach of her patted her on the back, the shoulders, and once even on the head. “Everyone, step aside! Let her sit down.” one woman shouted over the bustle.

“Who is that?”

Why are you asking me? Who are you? “That’s Natalia, ex-girlfriend of the deceased.”

“They’re making that much of a fuss over an ex-girlfriend?”

“Ha. She’s also the rather well-known actress, model, singer, Natalia Gates. Ask anyone here and they’d say she was his greatest achievement.”

“A woman... is his greatest achievement? Wow. Did he carve her from stone?”

“Haha. No.”

“Well she is rather pretty.”

“Pretty?”

“You don’t think so?”

Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it. At the moment, I can’t really see her face under those big celebrity sunglasses. That’s also a ridiculously large hat. Her clothes are nice I guess, but that’s pretty typical for celebrities spotlight-cravers. “She’s too skinny.”

“I’m sure celebrities have to maintain a certain weight. It’s the image they want to portray. By the way my name is…”

“WALTER! WAAALLLLTERRRRR!!! GOD WHY?!? WALTER!” a woman barged in screaming.

Ugh. This woman… What the heck is she wearing?

“WALTER! Where is he?” she demanded as if she didn’t see the large casket at the front of the chapel. “WALTER!” she screamed again as she laid her eyes on him. Throwing her arms in the air, she ran to his side screeching, “WALTER! WAALLLTEEEEERRR!!” The casket made a ghostly thump as she fell on top of it. The other mourners raced behind her, attempting to restrain her, but she kept banging on the coffin, demanding that it be opened so she could look at her beloved’s face. “OPEN IT! LET ME SEE HIM! LET ME SEE MY LOVE! HE WAS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! LET ME SEE HIM!” She wailed and cried and hissed and moaned until she crumpled to the floor in front of casket. It took two men to pick her thrashing body up off of the floor.

“...Um...and who was that?”

“That is the one people often consider as his worst achievement, Ruby Range.”

“Ohhh.”

Women were fanning Ruby, coaxing her to calm down a bit but she wasn’t done. She jerked up and adjusted her cleavage. “YOU DID THIS!” Everyone turned to see who she was pointing to.

“Me?” asked Natalia, rather confused.

“YES, YOU! DON’T THINK I DON’T KNOW! DON’T THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT THE TWO OF YOU WERE STILL SEEING EACH OTHER BEHIND MY BACK!”

Ohhoho snap, this just got good!

Everyone gasped at the revelation.

“Wha...wha…,” Natalia stammered, “What on Earth are you accusing me of?”

“I’M SAYING THAT THE PERFECT ANGEL HERE IS IN FACT NOTHING MORE THAN A LUSTFUL, JEALOUS WOMAN!”

Chuck, cousin of the deceased, shouted, “Ruby watch how you speak to Ms. Gates!...”

“What he means,” cousin Hillary cut in, “is that we are all in mourning and in shock from this sudden loss but we shouldn’t throw around such false accusations.”

“FAL...FALSE ACCUSATION!?! EVERYTHING I’VE SAID IS THE TRUTH! TELL THEM! TELL THEM NATAAAALLIA.”

“There is nothing to tell. Now for God’s sake woman sit down; you’re in a church!”

Ever the unruly type, Ruby became even more agitated, snatching off one of her stiletto heels pointing it at Natalia as if it were a sword. “IT WAS YOUR FAULT! IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU AND YOUR PEOPLE, WALTER WOULDN’T BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!” From then on, Ruby settled for sobbing loudly at the front of the church.

Oooo, was that a hint of foreshadowing? We all remember what happened the last time Ruby suspected that Walter was cheating on her.

“I don’t get it.”

You’re still here? “Get what?”

“Why would Ms. Range think that Mr. Matthews’ affair would have anything to do with his death?

“She’s nuts. Simple enough.”

“No. She seemed like she was trying to make a point, in her own weird way. She said ‘You and your people.’ What does that mean?”

“You’ve fallen for her bait. She just wants to tell her side of the story, make enemies out of the people she hates, and make herself the betrayed victim. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing else to it? Ms. Gates never actually denied having the affair. What if they really were?”

Why are you so pushy? You’re ruining the moment for me. Go away. I was enjoying watching the chaos by myself and then you...Wait a minute. Mr. Matthews? I thought that maybe she was just some long lost cousin or friend that I had forgotten about but that can’t be it. She’s way to formal for that. Okay, “Who are you?”

“Huh? Oh I’m Tracey Barnes with Grovefield News. And you are?”

“You’re a journalist? What are you doing here? Do you even know the guy?”

“Oh no. We never met. I’m here to get some words for the  paper. He had such a dramatic death that the paper decided to cover the funeral as well.”

Cover the...that’s ridiculous. Is there no such thing as privacy anymore, even for the somewhat grieving family?

“By the way, the police won’t share to much but do you happen to know anything about the circumstance surrounding his death?”

Ha. “Go away.”

“Hey wait. You have to give me something. This could be the story of the year, the decade even.”

This was a good funeral, but now…

“Oh come on,” she said grabbing my arm. “You think this is odd too, don’t you? I mean his body is beyond…” She stopped, let go of my arm, and laughed “Uh ha...haha…” awkwardly, mortified. “Sorry. I should go.”

Darn, I forgot to wipe my face.