Chapter Nine.
Amy – Four days later.
The sky was overcast, but luckily it didn’t rain.
But the winter sun wasn’t shining either.
It matched my mood perfectly. Out there, people were continuing their lives, unimpacted by the crash.
They’d gossiped and listened to rumours, but they didn’t comprehend the meaning of the disaster or the scale.
Vortex, Papa, Duke, and I rode with Mari in a limo to the funeral.
We’d got there early this morning to avoid the media, which were present as always.
For three days, I’d been ‘trending’ on social media and in the news outlets.
Former colleagues had given interviews, all grabbing their fifteen minutes of fame.
What a nice lady I was. Bullshit. They didn’t know me like they’d pretended.
Every last one of them should be ashamed.
When we’d arrived at Mari’s home, I’d been shocked to see a circle of men in black jeans and tees wearing cuts.
We were stopped as we entered the street and were forced to wind down the window.
The biker peered inside, saw Vortex, and nodded.
“Go on, dude,” he said.
“Thanks, Jailbait,” Vortex replied.
“What was that?” Papa demanded as he drove forward through the gap that had opened in the men.
“That’s the allied MCs. We called in some markers. The media won’t be able to hound anyone today. The MCs will block the street and allow only people attending the funeral in. They got a list from Mari. The church and graveyard will also be protected,” Vortex answered.
“Are they doing this for everyone?” Dad asked.
“No. Just for Natasha and your family.”
Papa nodded as he parked. “Thanks. Mari needs today to be about Natasha, not about the media getting their pound of flesh.”
“That’s why we’re doing this,” Vortex replied as he clasped my hand.
I squeezed tightly.
I didn’t want to be here and hadn’t ever dreamed I’d be doing this. Not this young. Natasha and I were meant to get married, raise our kids, and grow old together. Vortex helped me out of the car, and I stared at the house in which I’d spent a lot of my childhood.
“No, I can’t do this,” I whispered, feeling the urge to run and hide. Panic welled and stuck in my throat.
“Yeah, you can. You’re strong enough, and I believe in you,” Vortex murmured in my ear. I steeled myself and headed up the path after Papa and Dad. The door creaked open, and Mari appeared, and oh God, she’d aged ten years.
Mari’s smile lacked its usual warmth, and her eyes were dead.
But when they lit on me, they filled with tears, and Mari’s arms opened.
Blinking back tears, I stumbled into Mari’s embrace, and we both cried.
Papa, Dad, and Vortex surrounded us, hiding us from nosy fucks as we shuffled inside Mari’s home.
“I’m so sorry,” I wailed, and Mari rubbed my back. “I wish it had been me.”
“The grieving wouldn’t be any less,” Mari soothed. “We’d be heartbroken no matter which one of you it was. Our saving grace is that you both didn’t die. We wouldn’t have recovered from that.”
“I miss her so much.”
“Oh, Amy, I know, baby, it’s an ache that will take a long time to fade. I never expected to be burying my baby,” Mari whispered.
“No,” Papa agreed as he embraced us. Mari leaned her head on his shoulder and wiped her tears.
“Amy, I have something for you, and you have to wear it today,” Mari said, taking my hand.
She led me through the house to Natasha’s bedroom. I baulked at going in, and Mari offered an understanding look but tugged me in. The room hadn’t changed since I’d last been in here just over a week ago. Natasha was messy, and I somehow guessed it would stay as she left it for a long time.
Mari opened Natasha’s drawer, where she kept all her jewellery, and pulled out a blue box. She handed it to me. I instantly pushed it back to Mari.
“No, I can’t take that.” I knew what was inside.
“Yes, you can. Natasha would want you to have it, and so do I. One of my girls needs to wear it,” Mari said with tears.
It was a gold chain with a cross. The cross was decorated with amethysts and opals. It had belonged to Mari’s great-great-grandmother and had been passed down to each girl when they turned eighteen. Natasha had loved it, and it was her most treasured item in the world.
“This should be buried with Tash,” I murmured.
“Amy, I may not have birthed you, but you’re no less my daughter, even if I pushed you away this week. Baby, I couldn’t handle your pain on top of mine,” Mari admitted. Puffing out my cheeks so I didn’t cry, I slung my arms around Mari, and we hugged one another tightly.
“Don’t leave me, kidda, we wouldn’t survive that,” Mari whispered.
“Never,” I promised.
◆◆◆
Thanks to Vortex’s friends and Inglorious, the funeral was perfect.
The media and nosey parkers were kept well away.
The service for Natasha was beautiful; Mari managed to struggle through her speech, and I was just barely able to speak mine.
Papa and Dad both said kind words and reminded the attendees of Natasha’s sense of humour and the scrapes she would get into.
“Natasha would see death as a whole new adventure. No doubt she’s causing mayhem up there,” Papa stated, making me sob-laugh.
After the service, we headed to the graveyard where she was being buried.
Mourners sent so many flowers that it was overwhelming.
More prayers were said at the gravesite, and as the funeral ended, Mari’s legs gave out from under her.
Dad caught her up and supported her while Papa stepped in on the other side.
Vortex held me as I threw a black rose on Natasha’s coffin.
Anyone else would have thought it inappropriate, but black roses had been Natasha’s favourite.
Slowly, we began walking away from the grave as they lowered Natasha into the ground.
We couldn’t watch that happen. Dad and Papa got Mari to the limousine first, and Vortex helped me in.
Sadness and tragedy marred the day. Natasha had died in the prime of her life.
It was unthinkable, but it had happened.
The silence in the limo was profoundly deafening as we left. There was nothing to say.
Mari had booked a restaurant out for the wake.
Tash had been popular, and many mourners had been invited to the funeral.
The food was laid out buffet-style, and Mari, my dad, and I waited by the doors to greet everyone.
Mari and Natasha hardly had any family; a few distant cousins on Mari’s side, but that was it.
Natasha’s father had been an anonymous sperm donor, so there was nobody from his side.
Like Mari had been my pseudo-mom, my dads had been Natasha’s pseudo-fathers.
Once we’d greeted everyone, Vortex led us to a table that had been reserved for us.
He fetched plates of food and drinks and generally made sure we were fine.
Considering the circumstances, we were managing.
After a while, I needed the toilet. When I came out, one of the waitresses was standing at the sink washing her hands.
She glanced and then whipped her phone out.
“Hey, I’m Summer. Tell me, Amy, how did you feel today went? What does it feel like to know death is stalking you? Do you think you can outrun the Grim Reaper?”
“What the fuck?” I exclaimed, shocked.
“Come on now. Don’t be shy. This is your fifteen minutes of fame. I was the one who caught that psychic’s vision, and we’re live right now. Tell my viewers how it feels to be stalked by death.”
“You don’t have permission to film me,” I mumbled, turning away.
“South Dakota is a one-party state,” Summer gloated. “Come on, Amy, don’t be stuck up. Talk to my followers. What was it like when you crashed? Did you find Natasha immediately? Was she badly burned?”
I spun around to scream at her, but there was a loud slap, and Summer fell quiet.
“How dare you?” Mari seethed.
Summer stepped back in fear. “You slapped me!” she squealed.
“I’d have punched your teeth down your throat,” I muttered.
“My daughter is dead. She’s not a soundbite or a social media post. Natasha was a real person, loved by everyone who knew her. You come here today to get likes for yourself. Shame on you, and on your parents who didn’t bring a child up correctly.”
“Leave my parents out of this!” Summer snapped.
Mari pounced. “Well, young lady, if something happens to you and you die, I hope some nasty little troll does the same at your wake.”
Summer paled. “Bitch, leave my family alone.”
“No. And I’ll be watching. And should you die before them, I’ll be there with a camera, posting their grief and sorrow.
You’ve no humanity. You think Natasha’s death is entertainment?
And your viewers—ghouls, all of them. I hope their parents never experience the agony of losing a child, and then have a nasty, spiteful, evil troll torment them.
Should that happen, well, they got what they deserved. ”
The door flew open, and Vortex stormed in. “You’re done.”
Behind him hovered the manager. “You’re fired!” he yelled.
“You can’t sack me! Dude, I need this job!” Summer shouted.
“Oh, Karma’s a bitch, and she’s getting her own back, you vile child,” Mari seethed.
“Summer, I can dismiss you. You’re harassing a grieving mother, who should have been able to say goodbye to her daughter peacefully.
Instead, you’ve wrecked the memorial wake for a victim of a disaster.
I’m not only firing you, but I’ll make sure you don’t get another position in catering! ” the manager exclaimed.
“Don’t bother. I’ve called the big guns. This bitch will never work again. Any interview she has, this footage will find its way to the potential employer. The only job she’ll get is whoring, and even those clients would need to be careful that she’s not filming them,” Vortex hissed.