Death Becomes Him - 17

Trent made it to the funeral. He watched the casket, holding a few bones, as it was lowered into the earth. Bones he now knew belonged to a stranger. He couldn’t say anything though, so he consoled Rory’s mother when she cried, listened silently when Rory’s father gave the eulogy, and wondered if somewhere unseen Rory was watching.

But he couldn’t be. It’s morning. A bright, sunny morning. He’s asleep somewhere while we’re mourning his passing. He had a fleeting thought and winced. I wonder if he sleeps in a casket like in the movies.

“Probably not.” He realized he’d said that aloud when Janet Mathieu glanced questioningly at him. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

She smiled sadly, giving him a hug. “Thinking of what might have been?”

He could only nod in reply.

Luckily, as far as he was concerned, the Mathieus had opted not to hold a reception after the funeral. “What friends he had here are long gone, off into the world,” Dave Mathieu had explained. “As for ours, they’ve all offered their condolences so why put them, or us, through that again.”

It made sense to Trent. Even more so since he knew the funeral was a sham, even if Rory’s parents didn’t.

He was relieved when he got on the plane to fly home. It had been hard, not telling them Rory was still… Well not quite alive, but…

Two hours later, he stepped into the heat of a New Orleans evening. The first thing he did, as he walked to his car, was call Jennie to let her know he was back and that she didn’t have to stop by his place to take care of Beau. She asked how the funeral had gone, he told her it was beautiful and sad, she commiserated with him and they hung up.

Beau greeted Trent, when he walked into the house, as if he’d been gone for a year, not just two days. To Trent, it felt like an eternity. So much had changed, and yet when he thought about it, nothing had changed. Rory was gone again, after his brief reappearance in Trent’s life. The only saving grace, if he could call it that, was he now knew what had happened. Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of his life. He’d go on as before, alone.

“Except for you,” he told Beau, hugging him.

Beau licked his face then danced away, heading to the door with a ‘take me out now or else’ look on his face.

So Trent did. They walked to the park, as always. Night was falling. Trent looked up at the blue-black sky, wondering if Rory was just awakening now that it was dark.

Where are you waking up? Here, or in France? Are you thinking of me, even a little? Or did you come back just because you had to be certain your ruse worked?

“I’ll never know the answers, will I Beau?” he said sadly. It didn’t help his mood when Beau looked up at him and shook his head.