"MOM WANTED TO come over to help get Ruby ready for church," Valerie had arrived early, "but I talked her out of it. I told her too many people fussing around Ruby would upset her."
I poured coffee for Valerie. "Good, I would rather see her in a crowd where I can avoid her as much as possible."
"Less stressful for the both of you," she agreed. "You know…"
"No, I will not try to mend fences with Gladys the Bitch."
"Derek! Watch your mouth." Anger flashed in her eyes. "Mom has tried to do what she thought was best for us. Sometimes, her plans didn't work out."
"What's best for us?" I fumed. "What's best? She threw me out of the house."
"No, she sent you to college."
"She wanted me away from Charlotte."
"She wanted you to grow up to be-"
"To be her puppet. A wife named Puddin' who's active in the church, children at Charlotte Country Day, me making contacts and climbing my way to the top, and a mansion in Myers Park. That's her dream, not mine."
Valerie shook her head. "No, she's lived that life. She wanted something better for you."
"Well, she should be happy; I have a better life than that. I have loyal friends and a job I love."
"That's what is important." Ruby startled us. She entered the kitchen in her plain black dress, ready for the funeral. "One more thing you need: someone who loves you." Tears welled in her eyes, and she picked up a small colorful porcelain elephant that sat on the corner shelf, next to dog-eared cookbooks. She patted it gently, and set it back in its place.
"Aunt Ruby," Val put her arms around her, "we love you; you aren't alone."
"It's not me I'm worried about." A faint smile trembled on her painted lips as she looked from Valerie to me.
A silence settled over us, heavy and thick.
Walterene's spirit hovered within the house; I sensed it coming from her gardening books, her chair, the pictures of family on the walls, and from Ruby. She stayed strong without Walterene, although I knew that was the hardest thing she had ever done. Walt had been the dominant one, the woman who could talk the car mechanic into a discount, not from argument, but with compliments and listening and winning him over. She beamed with the love and kindness and understanding of each person she encountered. Ruby was the flirtatious one. She batted her eyes and laughed at silly jokes; she cooked and cleaned and shopped, while Walterene gardened, fixed leaky faucets, and debated politics. The combination kept them together; they complemented each other.
Her spirit lingered. I wanted to wrap it around me, to be part of me, absorbed into the man I wanted to become.
A low, dull car horn blew outside, and Valerie checked out the window. "The limousine is here. Let's get to church." She set her coffee mug in the sink and took Ruby's hand to escort her out the door.
MYERS PARK BAPTIST, fairly liberal for a Baptist church in the South, was filled with Charlotte 's finest citizens. The banks were represented by their chairmen, sitting on opposite sides of the aisle like it was Trade Street, Wachovia to the south and Bank of America to the north. The Belk department store family, represented by McKay and his Uncle John, sat just behind Ed Williams from the Charlotte Observer. In the front rows, I saw Mother and Father; Tim, Laura, and their two children sat behind them. Grandma Eleanor sat stone-still between Mother and Vernon. Next to Uncle Vernon was his wife Irene, and finishing out the pew were Mike and Sheila, Margaret and Gerald. Mark should've been with his brother and sister, but I didn't see him. Across the aisle, Walterene's mother, Great-Aunt Ernestine, sat flanked by Edwina and Roscoe on one side and Ruby's brothers, Sam and Odell, on the other. Ernestine cried so hard her thin shoulders shook. Ruby led us toward the seats next to Edwina.
As we approached the altar, I caught Mother's glance. Her head nearly snapped off when she realized it was me. She elbowed Father to get his attention; he smiled when he saw me, but she caught him. Tim and Laura looked, and their kids pointed.
Valerie and I sat down. Ruby crossed past Edwina and Roscoe to hug Ernestine. The old woman's gnarled hands gripped Ruby, and they both trembled under the weight of their tears. The organist started a slow hymn that sounded familiar, but I didn't know the title. I hummed a little to keep my mind off the reason we were there. I couldn't cry in front of these people. "Men don't cry," Mother had always taught us. Ruby sat between me and Valerie, holding each of our hands in her tight cold grip.
The casket sat in front of the altar, and from my position, I could see Walterene's powdered profile. How pale and quiet she looked. Nothing like the fiery, joyous woman she had been. The coffin held nothing more than a shell that had housed Walterene. Our Walterene had dissipated into each of the lives she had touched. I knew she lived in me. Tears blurred my sight. I tried to not blink to keep from knocking them out of my eyes and down my cheeks. I looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
As the pastor droned on, I looked at the family gathered around. Time had turned teenagers into parents, parents into grandparents, grandparents into humbled antiqued souls waiting for their turn before the altar. Old man Ernest's blood seemed to keep his surviving daughters, Grandma Eleanor and Great-Aunt Ernestine, stronger physically than their sisters-in-law. Great-Aunts Rebecca and Louise had both buried their husbands years ago, and I was honestly surprised they were still alive. Ruby's mother Rebecca lived in Sharon Towers under constant care. Today she sat humped in a wheelchair at the end of our pew, staring at a stained glass window. Louise sat behind her children, Edwina and Roscoe, rocking side to side with the music in her head. The only sibling left was Great-Uncle Earl, the youngest of the original children and the only male still alive. He lived in Manhattan and hadn't been seen in years.
My attention came back to the casket because Tim and Vernon 's boys and several others had surrounded it.
There was Mark.
He stood next to his brother Mike and brother-in-law Gerald. He hadn't changed much since I last saw him, still the perfect Harris male. Thirty years old with boyish looks, thick black hair that wouldn't quite stay in place, wide eyes and thin nose; even in his black suit, I could tell he still had the build of a college wide receiver. They flanked the mahogany box that held Walterene's body. The men from the funeral home folded the satin trim inside the casket, and then closed the lid on her. I wanted to rush to it and touch her one last time, to say good-bye, to beg her to come back, to say how sorry I was that I wasn't with her when she died. Tears spilled down my face, and I wiped them away with my sleeve; I would never see her again. The pallbearers lifted the casket with slow movements and carried it down the aisle. We filed out behind it in silence.
The limousines took us to the rolling hills of Sharon Memorial Park. We gathered under a large green tent where I ushered Valerie and Ruby to seats, then returned to stand behind the family. Overly sweet roses, lilies, and lavender surrounded the dark hole where the coffin would be lowered; warmed by the morning sun, they gave off the sickening scent of a spilled bottle of vanilla. A carpet of white roses covered the lacquered box. I watched as honeybees and yellow jackets found the flowers and began their orgy in the arrangements. After more words from the pastor, a bagpiper in full, kilted, Scottish regalia played "Amazing Grace" as the casket was lowered. The family began to disperse, sobbing and dabbing their eyes.
I turned to find Mother standing behind me. Her narrow face held vertical lines from her frown. Red-rimmed eyes stared at me through Liz Claiborne bifocals, and her thin body acted as a hanger for her DKNY suit. She looked so fragile, but so does a scorpion before she strikes.
''You shouldn't have come," Gladys the Bitch said in a harsh whisper.
"I didn't come for you. I'm here because I loved Walterene." I stepped toward her, but she held her ground.
"Fine." She clipped the word. "So you'll be leaving today?"
Was it a question or a command? "No, I plan to stay with Ruby for a while. She needs someone around."
"There's plenty of family here to take care of Ruby." A tight smile appeared. "Derek, go back to California." She turned to walk away, but I moved in front of her, blocking her retreat.
"I am family, and I'll decide how long I stay. Gay or not, you can't control me." I stepped back so she could leave.
She turned to me with narrow eyes. "Don't be stupid, Derek. This part of your life is over; let it stay part of your past." Gladys the Bitch spun on her heels and left without another word.
As soon as she disappeared into the crowd, Tim appeared without his wife or kids. "So, little brother, how's life in Frisco?" He slapped me on the back and tried to get me in a headlock. I goosed his side to escape. His mannerisms still smelled of a frat boy grown old.
I had to smile because he never seemed to change. "The city is much more easy-going than here."
"Yeah, well, Charlotte 's a moving town. I got a new subdivision in the works south of Ballantyne. It will make those original Ballantyne mansions look like Wilmore shacks." Tim held onto my arm as he talked. "Damn boy, you been working out. I better look out; you might kick my ass for all those tricks I played on you."
I slapped his belly. "Looks like you haven't been working out." I teased him, but he had honestly gained weight in his stomach and face, making him look older than he was. "Forty's coming up this fall, isn't it?"
He hugged me close to him, and whispered, "I may have a few gray hairs here and there, but I can get it up on command."
"Tim, you're not fooling around on Laura, are you?"
"Me?" He feigned innocence.
"Keep your dick at home. AIDS isn't just for us queers."
"Shit." He drew the word out into three syllables. "Hey, it's Saturday night. Let's go find a pretty young couple. You take the husband, and I'll take the wife."
The stern look I gave him must have shocked him.
"Just kidding, just kidding. Laura and I are the perfect pair. Oh, there she goes now. You staying with Valerie?"
"No," I called after him, "Ruby."
"I'll call you." He caught up with Laura. She eyed me and nodded, then herded the children and her husband toward their Mercedes.
Streams of people flowed toward the line of cars, and I saw Valerie helping Ruby back to the limo. Just as I headed toward them, Mark tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, and he pulled me to him and hugged me hard. We broke the embrace, but he held my shoulders at arm's length and looked me over.
"You look great, Derek." His faint smile faded. "I'm glad you made it in for the funeral. I'm really going to miss Walterene."
"I wouldn't have missed the funeral. I just wish I could have seen her before…"
"I know. I get so caught up in work; I can't remember the last time I stopped to see Ruby or Walterene."
I let the silence fall between us.
"I hope you plan on staying for a while." He brightened up some. "Kathleen and I would love to have you over for dinner."
"That would be nice," I muttered. Did he not have any feelings for me? "I hear you live in Fourth Ward."
"That's right. We have a place in the TransAmerica building. You wouldn't believe Uptown." He became his old happy self. "I love living in town. I walk to work and to the Uptown Y; restaurants and bars are popping up everywhere." A woman walking by offered her condolences; he nodded in return.
"Mark," I got his attention back, "I still have feelings for you."
"Come on, Derek, we were just kids fooling around."
"Maybe that was it for you, but it meant more to me." Seeing him again brought back the old emotions. I had never had a relationship that compared to what I had with Mark. Maybe it was the excitement of the first love, maybe the thought of cousins having sex-an incestuous relationship forbidden because we were related and because we were both men-but at that moment, I would have given up everything to be back in his arms. Love had eluded me since Mark; the world never revealed another to take his place. "I-I… I just wanted you to know that I still love you." My voice broke as I said it.
His face flushed, and he led me away from the crowd. We stood beneath a large willow oak surrounded by the gravestones of strangers; low-hanging branches shielded us from the eyes and ears of others.
"Derek, please let that stay between us. I've moved on; I'm a different person now. Kathleen and I are very happy."
Who was he trying to convince? Then it hit me: Why bother? There was nothing here for me. These people didn't want me around. Mark wouldn't even admit to himself what an extraordinary connection we had; the past was past. Love couldn't last through the restraints this family put on its children-we would all be beaten down, molded to the forms and principles set by Papa Ernest Harris. Gladys the Bitch was right, although I hated to admit it. I smiled and patted his shoulder. "That was the past. It's not worth bringing up again. I'm staying at Ruby's for a couple of days. If I don't see you before I go home, good luck with Kathleen and the job." I pushed one of the low-hanging limbs aside and started to walk away.
"Derek," he called after me. "Maybe we'll see you during the holidays?"
"Yeah, that would be nice," I lied.
THE LIMO TOOK us back to Sedgefield Road. Ruby wanted to lie down for a while. Valerie and I opened a bottle of wine and nibbled from some of the covered dishes in the refrigerator. "Val, I'm going back to California on Monday."
"We'll miss you," her voice dropped.
"Do you think Ruby will be okay?"
"I can look in on Ruby on my lunch hours and after work. She'll be fine in a few days." Valerie forced a smile.
"It would be great if you and Ruby lived in San Francisco."
"Our lives are here." She wrapped up a dish and set it back in the refrigerator. "Why don't you get some rest, too. I'll be back for dinner." She hugged me good-bye.
I went back to the guest room and drifted off to sleep.
I WOKE TO the squawk of the attic stairs being pulled down, and called out, "Ruby, let me help you with that." I grabbed the cord, and helped her lower the stairs down into the hall.
"Just wanted to take a look at some things in the attic. Walterene was always good at packing away her memories. She even kept old Christmas cards." Ruby ascended the steps; I followed. The sun warmed the asphalt shingles above, creating a mix of tar and musty smells. The floorboards creaked as she clicked on a bare bulb and maneuvered a path between boxes, rolled up rugs, old chests, and framed paintings. Two more lights lit the entire space. Christmas decorations and boxes of old clothes seemed to support the roof. I helped her move a few boxes until she found what had been on her mind. She opened a tattered cardboard box filled with crumpled newspapers and pulled out a stuffed toy-an elephant. "This was one of Walterene's favorites from when we were girls. She used to drag Willie around everywhere she went." More newspapers spilled out of the box as Ruby dug through it. "Oh, look." She held up a yellowed perfume bottle. "Mr. Sams gave this to her."
"Mr. Sams?" I took the bottle she held out to me. The thick glass felt heavy and warm in my hand. I smelled the top; the sweet aroma of the funeral flowers invaded my head again.
"Mr. Sams was an old black man who helped around the Dilworth house." She grabbed the bottle back, rewrapped it in paper, and stuffed it back in the box. "I need to go through all of this." She contemplated the cluttered attic, then glanced at me. "Will you help me?"
"Aunt Ruby," I tried to think of a good way to tell her, but it just came out, "I'm leaving on Monday to go back to California."
"No," she pleaded, "please stay awhile. We haven't had any time together. There's so much to be done. I don't know if I… I can't do it alone."
She pulled at my heart. "I guess I could stay a couple of days longer, but I need to get back."
"Yes, yes." She gave me a smile, the first I had seen on her all day. "Just stay for a few more days. There's so much to be done, so, so much to be done."