Jose

“Nat, the phone’s for you. It’s the florist. They want to know how many roses you would like for the gathering.”

“Well,” Nat replied after a moments thought, “I think we should get about 200 roses. We want the guests to notice them when they are enjoying the feast. It will also be a great tribute to father.”

The gathering. To Nat it seemed as if this grand event, as necessary as it was, would be a little too showy. To her, this event should be kept to a minimum. She knew her recently deceased father would have liked it that way. He would see this as just another way of flaunting his hard earned money to his friends. She knew that to him this should be an intimate affair consisting of just close relatives, as those of lesser means and lower culture do. She knew that, for all his fame and fortune, he died still loving the ways of the common man.

“Nat, it’s the funeral director, he wants to know what you want father to look like at the gathering.”

“Well, tell him it’s up to him. But it should be both practical and fitting of his character. I think he knows what kind of man father was, and he can make the best choice. Tell him I respect his opinion. But tell him to make sure it fits his stature. We don’t want him attired like a mere commoner.”

The disdain had entered into Nat’s voice. She was nothing like her father in his respect for the common working man.

“Sounds great.”

Why was this gathering such a necessary thing? She thought something else should have been done to signify her fathers death. True, he deserved something to commemorate his life and accomplishments, and it was a ritual among those of high bearing, but this, even to her, seemed like it was a bit overboard. She just hoped the meal turned out to everyone’s liking, and that some of the family, such as Uncle Louie, would not embarrass the family and her fathers name with their drunken behavior. The memory of her Aunt’s death and Uncle Louie’s insensitive actions had driven the family apart, and she hoped that another such performance would not occur. Her father deserved that much. Which reminded her, she must attend to her cousin Addy. This was to be her first gathering, and she hoped that she would be able to handle it. It was not easy saying good-bye to a loved one. She wanted this experience to be a good one for all, and she hoped their would be enough food to go around.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Nat awoke the day of the gathering after a poor nights sleep. The pressure of planning such an affair, and actually pulling it off to everyone’s liking had been incredibly stressful, and she could not wait until the moment was finally over. At about 1, some of the guests started to arrive and pay their condolences to the family. Nat searched for Addy. Finding her alone under an oak tree in the back, she walked over to her to comfort her.

“Hi Addy. How is everything going? Can I help you with anything?"

“No Thank you Nat. My parents prepared me for this, but I’m still not sure if I can handle it.”

“Well, just remember that today marks your entry into the upper class world. This is an event that only the very rich can pull off, so today is a sort of coming out party for you. But don’t worry, it will all come naturally.”

“Ok, thank you Nat. I hope I don’t embarrass you.”

“Oh don’t worry. Only Uncle Louie could do that.”

Nat wandered off, looking at the backyard. It was a beautiful day for this gathering. Only a lonely cloud, black and sinister, yet, still alone, hung against the pale blue sky. The sun was sighing softly, on it’s eternal trek through the sky, providing the deck with an eerie red glow. The gentlest breeze blew through the trees, whispering of the spectacle that was to come. As Nat looked at the flowers positioned at all the right angles, the beautiful black roses, looking like jewels against the lush greens and browns of the grass and trees, the table, imported from the other side of globe, the centerpiece of the gathering; and the casket, black, latched, menacing, holding her father, she felt a hint of excitement, mixed with the desperate sorrow of having to bid her father a last farewell.

The priest entered, clothed in the most beautiful garments the parishioner’s money could buy. He was a slight man, no more than 5 inches over 5 feet, with haunting gray eyes, and a stare that could freeze the devil himself. But, on this day he was tingling. This was the event that made his entire life worthwhile. He felt every muscle quiver as he was about to lead these people in their farewell mass to the dead.

He began, “We are gathered here today to pay our last respects to a man that all of us loved very dearly.” The crowd began to get restless. They knew the routine. They wanted to get it over with and get to the feast. Yes, he was dead, but mourning him forever wouldn’t bring him back. His time had come, and that was that.

Addy looked around. She felt strange. A huge pall hung over the entire proceeding. Despite the blue of the sky, she felt a mysterious darkness fill her body, and the bodies of those around her. Yet, this feeling excited her. For some reason, she felt more alive at this moment than at any other time in her life. She had heard all the schoolyard stories about these gatherings, but nothing could compare to her first. With a strange excitement that gripped her body like death itself, she was exhilirated by the proceedings.

It was almost over. The priest was finishing one of his last sentences, “...and now, ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for the flesh of Jose Perez to be seen for the last time. May we have final silence for this man, and may God take his soul.”

A man came forward. With slow precision he slowly opened the coffin. A twinge of excitement circulated through the crowd. Taking care to open both doors, he unlocked them with a flourish of his arm. The crowd gasped. Inside was Jose. The funeral director had done a marvelous job. There lay Jose, looking as if he were sleeping, wearing nothing but a smile on his face. He looked as dignified as he had ever been. Addy looked him over carefully. He was a beautiful man. Despite his old age, he was still in wonderful shape. He looked as if he couldn’t be more than 30 years old. She was thrilled to the core. Nat was astounded when she saw her father. What a wonderful job the funeral director had done. He had really outdone himself this time. Despite a few minor cuts and bruises, this was the father she had loved her entire life. She felt a bit of sadness, though, as she thought about all the work that the funeral director had done, and how it would soon be destroyed. That, though, was the circle of life.

The wind had stopped. The lone black cloud that had been aimlessly floating in the sky had just now found it’s purpose and blotted out the sun. The silence that hung around the gathering deepened as all present stared upon the body of the fallen human. The birds ceased to sing and the blades of grass stood still as death itself. Nothing moved.

Then, with a sweep of his hand, the priest, in a voice that had the power of a lifetime presiding over rituals of the dead, screamed, “Commence!”.

The gathering, including Addy, knew what to do. In a mass of humanity they rushed to the nude corpse like demons attracted to one that sins. The sound of ripping flesh and crunching bones broke the silence as the crowd severed the head from the rest of the body and began to tear body apart. The crowd was one pulsating, spinning machine intent on satisfying their most animal needs and desires. Ripping, tearing, fighting, feasting, they made such a spectacle that Satan himself must have smiled at their dastardly deeds. As they feasted on the remains of their comrade, they were transformed, just as one who feels the power of superiority. They devoured Jose’s body, eating everything and anything they could find, pushing and scratching until only his taboo head remained.

Again, the priest cried out:

“Terminate!”.

The crowd, as if struck from above, returned to their seats. And, just as it had so abruptly stopped, the wind resumed, the cloud continued on it’s aimless quest, the blades of grass moved happily, and the birds sang in delight. And there, amongst the blood and tissue, amongst the squalor of torn flesh and bone debris, amongst those who were born of a higher character and who were destined to be the only ones that could hope to perform such a ritual, there lay the lonely head of the deceased. There lay Jose’s lonely head, snuggled softly upon his pillow, tucked away in his coffin, his dark hair waving in the wind. And upon his face lay an expression that separates humans from all other animals.

He was smiling.