Brenton
itumeleng kganyago
Shea
Always Eighteen
AhmedStars in my Head; Part One Chapter 9
December 31st 2007 12:58
SHARNEE’S BOOK
Today the funeral is on.
Lola.
Sometimes it’s strange how strong words can be. Some people jabbering on for hours might not have an affect on our class.
You say ‘Lola,’ the room goes silent.
Today the funeral is on.
Lola.
Sometimes it’s strange how strong words can be. Some people jabbering on for hours might not have an affect on our class.
You say ‘Lola,’ the room goes silent.
THE DAY OF THE FUNERAL;
Michael stood straight up. The ferns around him swayed crisp and green. His black jacket was too hot, his tie was uncomfy. Faith stood across from him, with her parents, tears pissing out her saddened eyes. She managed a tight smile at Michael, then broke down again. Michael nodded at her.
Sharnee moved up to stand beside him. Her face was sad, but she wasn’t crying. Unlike the other females, she didn’t wear a dress, but instead a tie and suit, much like Michael’s. She put her hand on his shoulder.
“Y’right?”
He gave a small shaky nod. It wasn’t raining, like on TV. It was a blue happy cloudless day.
They gathered, outside in bushland among ferns and palm trees. Lola had always loved this place.
Her coffin lay in the middle of the clearing. The sound of running water came from the distance. A small distance from the coffin sat an altar. No one had come to speak yet. There was no priest at the ceremony. Lola used to talk about priests at funerals, called them a waste of space. She believed in God, but not priests.
Tom stood among them, looking lost. He began to move up, leaning over to Lola’s father first to ask him a question, then going up to the altar.
“G’day,” He said. “I’m Tom. I have to… want to talk about Lola. She was a friend of mine, a friend I knew well. She was fantastic. A wonderful person. She had that weird out there-ness about her that we all admired.
I think we all wish there was something else we said to her. How much we cared for her, loved her. How we needed her. I wish I told her, told her that I was in love with her. You don’t know how I wish for that.
We surfed. Surfed together, me and Lola. I called her Loldog out there. It was silly, sort of. Silly but fun. And that’s what you have to hold onto – the good times. The love of it all. You, you have to hold onto that, and never let it go, cos it only comes along once.
Once surfing she hit the rocks real hard, screwed up where we were. Broke her leg. And we ended up at the bottom of this cliff and she screamed at me, to get her out of the water. I manage to get her to this spot, on land and she lay there, breathing hard and fast. I said I’d get an ambulance, and told her not to be scared.
And she told me, “I’m not scared. The water burns your lungs. I didn’t want to sink and hurt my throat like that. I’m not afraid to die. I’m not. If I was afraid to die I’d be afraid to live. Get help Tom. I like surfing with you.” That’s probably a paraphrase. When I got back she was fine, just about. She could have been chopped in half and survived, she had that amazing strength just burning inside her. When the car crash happened she should have died on impact, it was that hard. But she lived.
Faith requested I read something. A poem Lola wrote, with another verse by Faith.” He cleared his throat. “So let them come to my grave
Let them speak their words of love
Below the souls, crush they below
I lay not there but above
I touch your skin with breath
In hopeful wind I try
To seep in your soul
So do not cry
Do not cry at my grave
Laugh for my love
Don’t search for my body below
Invite my spirit above
Do not stand over my ashes, tears at your eyes.
Do not love me as a memory
Love me as my spirit above
And
Remember me.
Touch my soul
Let my spirit surround you
I am there with you
When you pummel through your life
In speeds of perfection
I am the stars
I am the stars in your head”
***
They sat on the port racks, Faith and Michael’s on one side, Tom leaning on Sharnee, George sitting down.
“Y’did a good job yesterday Tom.”
“Thanks”
Faith looked away, then back. Michael put his arm over her shoulder and she leaned on him.
Sharnee raised an eyebrow.
She hated how other girls did that. She couldn’t just swoon merrily into some guys arms. It was all bullshit really. Just wanting to be owned. She couldn’t do that.
“Y’bringin’ alcohol?” asked Sharnee.
“Light beer. Maybe one or two fruit cocktail drink things. Not much.” Tom leaned over to Sharnee’s ear and whispered. “An’ none o’ your weird shit, eh Sharn?”
“Piss off. Y’know it’s over.”
“I’ve known that before.”
“When’s it start?” asked Michael.
“Whenever. Late-ish”
“Want me to pick you up Faith?” Faith nodded.
“You got a car to drive, Mike?”
“My brother does. He lives out at a flat now.”
“Cool”
***
Michael opened the door to his house and jumped at the sight of Maverick Bootlicks dressed in silver metal clothing from head to foot, his silver face paint glistening in the sun.
“What the hell are you doing here you daft chump!” Michael stepped back. The man really did not seem quite right in the head.
“I live here?”
“Is there a problem Maverick?” came his Grans voice, arching out from down the hall.
“This masticated little circus midget claims to live her. He’s invading my personal space!” His Gran marched out to the doorway and looked at Michael.
“I certainly don’t see the problem. For goodness sake Maverick, get out of the doorway and let my grandson, who I can assure you does live under my roof, come inside.”
“He… I’m so sorry Agnes! I had no idea…”
“It does not matter. Michael, Mr Bootlicks and I were discussing his electoral campaign. Would you be kind enough to temporally remove yourself from the area of our delicate discussions?”
“Kay” Michael left, dumping his bag on the ground.
“Now Mr Bootlicks… why the hell have I heard nothing of your goodness?! I want you to make an effort, to present yourself as the good guy of the community. Your results are revoltingly low! I cannot even try to invasion your success as you appear to possess a phobia of doing anything slightly nice!”
“I tried Agnes! I did! I went to collect for the World Escapeheart appeal, raising more that any other collector involved!”
“I thought that was the fake appeal, designed for illegal activities and cash embezzlement. Is this a different appeal?”
“No. But I didn’t know! And the next thing, all major supporters are getting jail sentences! I wiped my name off the list. So I can’t very well let it slip and hope word gets out can I?”
“Well. I don’t know what you should do. But, you must do it soon – the election increases with the speed of a hurtling meteorite.”
“Don’t worry Agnes. Failure is not something I am good at”
“Lost your touch recently?”
Maverick glared and left.
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