Jones, Jason M.

English

The Open Repository @Binghamton (The ORB)

REQUIEMIASON M. JONES1.The youngest girl is only four years old when her brothersuggests they hold a seance for their father. He’d gone into thehospital three weeks before with flu-like symptoms and had 4never come out. The mother doesn’t explain this too clearly.She just says their father’s with God now. Her brother is olderby ten years. She trusts he knows how t0 contact God if any-one does, and if they can reach God, they might reach theirfather. She touches her sister’s fingers and clasps her brother’sand closes her eyes as instructed. Her heart races when herbrother Calls t0 their father, but nothing happens. She sits untilshe has to pee and then pees herself. She hides it from hersiblings and hopes her father can’t see.2.Her brother plays the Organ, and the music is morbid, butthe girl thinks it’s nice. She lies on the floor with her head rest-ing on the backs of her folded hands, listening, thinking thethoughts a four year old has. Will she see her father again?Will she talk to him? Her brother assures her she will, but hedoesn’t say when. In the meantime, he rocks back and forth onthe rickety wooden stool. Her sister, who’s six, sits outside inthe back yard, pulling at the grass while her mother sips teaat the dining room table, reading the newspaper, plumes of291Jones: RequiemPublished by The Open Repository @ Binghamton (The ORB), 2013smoke rising into the yellowed ceiling. She doesn’t speak often,and when she does, it’s in short‚ terse sentences: “Dinner’sready” or “Time for bed.” Her mother hasn’t washed her indays, but the girl doesn’t mind. She doesn’t like to take a bathanyway.3.The girl has another brother who’; ten‚ but he staysoutside most days. When he’s home, he hits her and her sister,but he won’t hit the eldest. Not that the eldest is tough, buthe’s strange and silent and flxates on things. He’s started col-lecting dead insects, dipping their bodies in liquid and pinningthem to boards. lt doesn’t make sense to the younger boy, whoplays basketball and baseball and runs ’til he’s out of breathand runs some more. When he comes home at dusk, he’s sotired he falls right asleep, and if the sisters bother him, hepushes them. He doesn’t want to hurt them. He just wantsthem out of his way, and he thinks it’s his right.4.None of the children are taking it well, but their mothertakes it the hardest. She’d never wanted children, though she’dwanted his. She’d always thought he’d make a good fatherand she’d handle her end, but now she’s stuck with these kidsand n0 one to raise them with. There are four children, fourstrangers. He’d always had the deft touch with strangers. He’dinvite people from work for parties and mix the drinks. He’dtell jokes and smile, and she’d smile at his smiling. He madelife better and now he’s gone and she doesn’t know what to d0.She resents the children, thinks they’re too young to suffer likeshe does. She resents him his death. She wishes she were deadtoo.5.The eldest buys a Ouija board with money he’s saved fromhis paper route. His father taught him to save, and he plans onusing his savings t0 get in touch. He thinks he nlight some-day become an undertaker. He finds the rituals soothing, theJones 302Harpur Palate: a Literary Journal, Vol. 12, Iss. 2 [2013], Art. 15https://orb.binghamton.edu/harpurpalate/vol12/iss2/15methodical care of the dead and their bodies. He has his insectsand he cares for them. Some boys want to be ballplayers, but _he’s found his Calling and doesn’t mind that it’s unusual. Hetakes a shovel on his route and collects the roadkill. He goesto the store and steals, not shoes but their boxes. He buriesthe rabbits and squirrels and one time he buries a fox, but hedoesn’t involve his younger siblings yet. These ceremonies aresacred. He has to practice, perfect them. He has t0 get it right.6.The youngest girl misses her father’s hugs and scratchybeard‚ but she doesn’t tell her siblings this. She doesn’t tellherself either‚ as she doesn’t realize it. She just knows it’s notthere and she doesn’t like it. There was warmth and now none,him and now gone. She likes the eldest though he’s strangeand keeps to himself. She likes the other‚ though he’s strangeand he hits her. She likes her sister most and clings nearwhenever she can. The rest go to school but she stays home,and whenever she’s home, there’s n0 TV or games. Just hermother‚ and her mother clears her throat‚ and then it’s quietand still, and the clock keeps ticking. '7.Her eldest brother plays the game and he’s got the restof them involved, even the hitter. Somehow the hitter doesn’tmind sitting and moving the slanted piece. They all want tohear. They all move the piece, and it spells things the youngestcan’t spell. The others interpret. They read. They go to school.It’s all letters, but they interpret the letters. They make soundsand the sounds make meaning. Yes and n0, she gets. They’respelled plain on the boarcL There’s repetition, back and forth.She interprets yes and n0, but the rest require assistance. “He’shere‚” the eldest says. “He wants t0 speak. . .” Though much asthe young girl tries, she can’t hear her father’s voice.8.’ The girl tries to contact her father on her own. She takesthe board from under her br0ther’s bed while he’s at school,313Jones: RequiemPublished by The Open Repository @ Binghamton (The ORB), 2013but the slanted piece just sits there undemeath her hands. ltdoesn’t move as it moved when they moved it together. Shelooks at the ceiling. She knows that the sky sits beyond andheaven’s beyond that. She moves the piece herself and knowsit’s cheating, but she’s good at make-believe. And even thoughshe can’trspell‚ she makes up the things she wants him totell her. “l’m okay,” he says. “I miss you. I love you.” The girlsmiles. She wants to tell someone he's okay, but she’s worriedshe’ll get in trouble for sneaking into her brother’s room andplaying with magic.9.The eldest invites his siblings to the viewings. He con-vinces the hitter to come by, letting him dig the graves, and thegirls don the blouses and skirts they wore for their father’s ser-vice. They hold these ceremonies on Sunday afternoons whentheir mother does the shopping. The boxes are lined with blacktissue paper, each animal laid lovingly inside. The eldest saysthe blessing and spreads a handful of dirt on the lid. The hitterfills it in, and the girls bow their heads in prayer and place theroses they’ve picked from the neighbor’s rosebush on the plot.When they go inside, the eldest plays the Organ and it’s alwayssolemn music. The youngest listens while the other two driftoff, disappear. They don’t like the sound. It’s too much like themusic at church‚ though that’s why the youngest enjoys it. Herfather’s in that music.10.Their mother watches them come and go and doesn’t domuch about it. She doesn’t reassure them or quell their fears.Mostly she watches the youngest cut through their parlor‚Stocking feet paddling upstairs t0 the boys’ room. She’s seenthe Ouija boarcL She’s found her daughter’s pee-soaked pantshidden undemeath her bed. She’s noticed the fresh patchesof tilled earth in the yard She wonders if their griefs as deepas hers. She thinks she should intervene but isn’t sure whatshe’d say. She’s out of her depth. She’s never dealt with a deadJones 324Harpur Palate: a Literary Journal, Vol. 12, Iss. 2 [2013], Art. 15https://orb.binghamton.edu/harpurpalate/vol12/iss2/15husband or father, and she’s never dealt with children dealingwith it either. For all she knows, this is how everyone copes.She’s been tempted to try some strange things herself. Shecan’t recall the last time she showered.11.One aftemoon, the girl’s sister comes home from schoolwith her bag unusually full and rushes into their room. “Lookwhat I have,” her sister says, unzipping the bag, and when sheopens the flap‚ the girl can see bright fur, white and orange,sticking out from the opening. “It’s the Mortimers’ cat,” she a-says, and they huddle, half-in/half-out of the closet‚ holding itup. The girl remembers the living cat, and it’s hard to matchthis inanimate animal with the pet who’d come boundingacross their lawn whenever she’d gone out t0 play. She’s neverseen death this close. During her father’s service, an aunt hadkept her away. “It’s not something children should see,” she’dsaid‚ though they’d let the boys see. She knows it’s not sleepingand feels a peculiar pinch in her heart at recognizing the differ-ence. Her aunt had tried comparing sleep with death, but sheknows there’s nothing of sleep in it. She knows the cat’s dead‚and she knows there’s nothing they can d0 t0 change it.12.By the time they show the eldest, the girl has examinedthe cat from every angle. She’s touched it and the fur feelslike fur, but its body’s grown rigid. “lt won’t keep ‘til Sunday,”the hitter says, and the eldest nods. It’s not oflen the two boysagree, and the girl nods along with them. The car hasn’t donemuch damage and the body’s intact, but there’s blood crust-ing around its mouth, and the girl thinks there’s somethingthat’s not cat in this cat and it won’t be a cat much langer. Shereaches out to touch it again, but the boys block her path. Ifthe eldest hadn’t coaxed her from the room‚ she’d have heldvigil beside his bed, guarding the cat beneath. The others leaveit be, but their thoughts are closely drawn to the space wherethey’ve decided t0 store it overnight, already decomposing.335Jones: RequiemPublished by The Open Repository @ Binghamton (The ORB), 2013l3.Each child somehow equates the cat with their father,though only the eldest, as he lies wakeful in bed, makes theconscious connection. Of the animals he’s consecrated to theearth, this is the first with which their family held some inti-macy, some affection. Even the hitter, sleepless like the rest,feels it, though he’s least likely to put it into words. The young-est shares the eldest’s sensitivity, and that evening, they’dprepared the casket together. More special than a shoebox, theeldest decides t0 sacrifice a wooden crate he keeps his recordsin, lining its lid with velvet they’ve appropriated from a pair ofpillows their grandmother gave the girl and her sister for pres-ents. “We’ll make it nice,” the sister says, and both girls giveconsent as the eldest works without a word, tearing the stitch-ing with a small pair of scissors he took from their mother.14.When the eldest wakes the girl, it’s dark outside. They’dplanned this the day before‚ but she’s still surprised‚ and hehas to shush her to keep her from Calling out. He leaves thegirl and her sister to dress‚ and they fumble about, but soonenough they’re creeping downstairs, the eldest and hitter bear-ing the cat’s casket. They skip the Organ music‚ aware theirmother’s asleep upstairs, and tread toward the spot where thehitter snuck out and dug the grave. The shadows of trees fallacross the girl’s silhouette. In the distance the sun starts torise. She feels a sense of importance‚ feels their daddy’s withthem and their acts have consequences. The boys set the cas-ket down, and the eldest asks them to pray. The morning birdssing, and she likes the singing. She won’t tell the eldest, but it’snicer than the Organ music.15.As the rising sun illuminates her children on the lawn, themother watches from her bedroom window. She hasn’t sleptwell since her bed became a half-size too large, and she woketo the girls stumbling around. With her husband’s death‚ sheJones 346Harpur Palate: a Literary Journal, Vol. 12, Iss. 2 [2013], Art. 15https://orb.binghamton.edu/harpurpalate/vol12/iss2/15stopped attending church, and she’s left the children t0 formtheir own, this tiny congregation gathered t0 cherish the dead.She’s recognized they need answers that aren’t there, solutionsto questions they’ll ask all their lives: why God’s indifferent,why those they love have to die. She’s been searching herselfthese past months, and She’s no further along than she’d beenat their age. The eldest with a practiced manner opens hisb00k‚ hoping to find them there. The youngest hovers at theedge of the grave, staring into the sky, as if they’re up there,and the mother moums their youth‚ their innocence‚ theirforms a trick of light and shade she captures in Silhouettebefore the image fades; as well she knows, the image alwaysfades; as well she knows this too will eventually fade.357Jones: RequiemPublished by The Open Repository @ Binghamton (The ORB), 2013

Requiem

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