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Chapter 6

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Squeezing between two hugely overweight and overbearing people, they finally emerged from the crowd. They were in what looked to be a throne room with a dais at the far side of the room. Upon that dais was one exquisite throne made out of deep brown wood and decorated with feathers, shells, leaves and berries. On the dark red velvet cushion sat his mother, smiling and waving to the gathered people.

Her husband Dean, Joshua's step-father and Brandy's father, stood beside and a little behind the throne, his hand hand down and clutching hers lovingly. He had a smile on his face, but it was more of an indulgent smile than one of enjoyment. He didn't care for crowds, but for his wife he would put up with it, if it was what she wanted.

Tears welled up in Joshua's eyes as he saw her sitting there as if nothing were wrong. She was obviously enjoying having all of her friends come by to give her their love. It lit up her face and made her more beautiful that he ever remembered seeing her before.

"Josh," she said when she saw him standing there, "I'm so glad you're here," she held out her hand, inviting him to come to her.

"Hi mom," he managed to say through his tears. He took her hand and held it tightly.

"Hello mom," Brandy kissed her on the cheek before retreating to stand beside her father.

"'Ello mum," Barney said as he came from between the legs of some of the bystanders.

"Hello Barney," she beamed down at him and he immediately began purring, then jumped up in her lap and curled up in a ball.

"I miss you, Mom," Joshua cried, "I love you so much."

"Oh, honey," she put her hand to the side of his face, "I'll always be with you. You should know that. I'll always be in your heart, no matter what happens."

"Yes you will," he sat down at her feet, still holding onto her hand. He laid his head on her knee and closed his eyes.

Joshua raised his head and looked at her again. There she way, lying on her hospital bed, eyes closed and mouth hanging open. Dean had come home from work and was standing on the other side of the bed, holding her other hand, an agonizing look of sadness and despair clearly written on his face. Joshua realized that her hand was cold in his, and her chest no longer rose and fell. 

She was gone.

He squeezed his eyes closed as tears streamed down his face. He kissed her hand, holding on to it as if he would never let it go. At least he had gotten the chance to say goodbye to her. That was something that he had been afraid that he wouldn't be able to do. 

"Thank you for being here with her," his step-father said sadly.

"I wasn't going to leave her alone," he said, "she loved to have company."

"Yes she did," he choked out, sinking to his knees. He hadn't changed out of his police uniform.

"So what you need me to do?" Joshua asked, sniffling back the tears.

"Nothing," Dean shook his head, "nothing at all," his hands were clasped together around hers, and held up to his face as if he were praying, which he probably was.

Joshua offered a silent prayer of his own; "May the Lord and the Lady, in their infinite compassion and wisdom, help to guide her on her way through the Summerlands and on to whatever afterlife she wishes to be in."

It was just after six in the morning, but Joshua grabbed his cell phone and began making calls. He woke up his sister, Julie, and let her know that Mom had passed. He called Brandy next, not sure what reaction he was going to get from her. She broke down and began crying, of course.

The rest of the day was filled with phone calls and making arrangements. The funeral home sent a Hearst to pick her up, the two somber men offering condolences as they moved her onto the gurney and took her away. Dean had sunk onto the couch and was staring sightlessly into the distance.

It was nearly two weeks before the funeral could be held. There were many people, both family and friends, who were coming from out of town, It was only polite to give them as much notice as possible to make travel plans. 

Joshua was present for much of the planning and arranging. Instead of making himself a part of the process, he held back, often relegating himself to a corner or otherwise out-of-the-way perch. He understood the importance of the process, but was having great difficulty in actually caring.

"Are you okay?" he was asked more than once.

"Fine," he would assure them.

At the funeral service, he woodenly went where he was told to be, and accepted condolences and well-wishes from those who came. He sat and stared at nothing as the pastor read Bible verses and went on about how wonderful of a person she had been; how vibrant and alive. How she had always been there to help those in need.

After the funeral, there was the Celebration of Life. Just family and very close friends were gathered to eat and share happy stories about her. Joshua again held back, either outside or in a corner, trying to avoid conversation and inquiries as to his emotional well-being. He had had enough of that to last a lifetime, so to speak.

Outside, alone in the shadow of am old oak tree, Joshua lit a cigarette and stared into the distance. He was remembering the unreal chase he had been through, to find her before she passed away. Had it just been a dream? Or had he really been chasing her through a spirit realm?

All of these people, at the funeral and the celebration, reminded him uncomfortably of being at the masquerade ball. He felt trapped and suffocated by everyone insisting on saying the same things over and over again. He already knew that they were sorry she was gone. Did everyone really need to tell him and the family?

Of course they did; it was a cultural paradox. If you failed to say something vaguely sympathetic, then you were considered harsh and uncaring. On the other hand, many people, such as Joshua and Dean, were private people and were easily overwhelmed by crowds of people.

He glanced in through the window at the twenty or thirty people sitting or standing, eating or drinking, all chattering and talking. He knew that he should really be in there with the rest of the family. By being out here, others may see him as uncaring or upset. He was, of course, but he didn't need more people coming to make sure that he was 'okay'.

"What are you doing out here?" Brandy asked as she came to join him.

He shrugged, "just getting away from the crowd."

"I get that it's hard for you," she said, putting her arm around him, "but you should still come in and mingle."

"I know. It's all just too much."

"I know it's hard for you," she said, looking me in the eyes, "It's the hardest thing you'll ever go through. Believe me, I know." Her mother had died a few years earlier.

Joshua shrugged, "I know."

"But you need to realize why these people are here. They loved her too, and they want to be with other people who felt the same way. They want to honor her by honoring her family. And that's you. It makes them feel better about themselves too."

"I never thought of it like that."

She smiled understandingly, "just go in and let them make themselves feel better."

"Okay," he nodded reluctantly. 

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