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Show Moon - 229 James began weeping. The boys looked away. Finally Alice spoke. "She's already been cremated, dear. It's what she wanted." So soon? Why? Joy was seized by the need for something tangible. "Where are the ashes?" They looked startled. Clearly no one had thought of that. Now Joy had something to do, which she needed, for she was unready to join the others who sat by the fireplace inanimate as statues in a strange enchantment. She was still on the train, planning how to lay on hands and say, "Arise!" She had to keep moving a little longer. She borrowed Lee's car and drove to an import store in Woodstock. There she selected a brass urn with a long graceful, neck. At the funeral home, Joy ordered flowers for the service, rust colored mums and yellow daisies to match the autumn hills, and asked about the ashes. The unctuous man held up to Joy a dark plastic bag fastened at the top with a heavy twist of wire. With cruel scrupulosity, he explained that the ashes of a few others would necessarily be mixed in, since no one had specified beforehand that the ashes were to be saved. Would her mother never, not even in death, get to be just herself? Alice stayed mostly in the kitchen, preparing wonderful food and keeping the counters spotless. She was marvelous, efficient, and Joy resented her for it. She felt cheated of her role as responsible eldest child, but she supposed she'd lost the right to that role a long time ago. Alice had fastened a little sign to the refrigerator saying, We are in the hands of the Lord. She told Joy that she'd already called Michael and Gloria, Ruth and Esther, and told them it wasn't necessary for them to come. Why, Joy wondered, was it not necessary? |