|
Last Rites |
Black-eyed peas.
Black-eyed peas and grits.
And ribs, gotta have barbeque.
Maybe one of those green-bean casseroles,
the kind with the little fried onions on top.
Can’t forget angel food cake,
gotta have that,
it was his favorite
and the boy’s up there with Jesus now,
we have to bear that in mind.
Even if what he did was a terrible sin,
at least he didn’t hurt any but himself.
That’s what the Reverend says
will save his soul.
We all have to pray
for Jesus’ guiding intervention
and that He’ll grant
forgiveness
and have mercy.
The boy was in pain.
Anyone could’a seen it,
looking back.
Hindsight’s twenty-twenty,
they say.
Yes they do,
they say it just for situations like this,
where we all should’ve seen it coming
and didn’t.
And a green Jello ring
with cherries and crushed pineapple,
just the way he liked it.
And whipped cream.
Fresh,
not the boughten.
Strawberries are just coming into season.
He’d like that,
they’re his favorite.
Too bad he’ll miss this year’s crop.
At least Cousin Fred will be happy,
he’ll finally get all the Jello ring he wants,
nobody to wrassle over it with him.
It’s an odd combination,
lime Jello with pineapple.
Who thought that one up?
Well, Elvis liked fried banana and
peanut butter sandwiches,
so the boy’s tastes are in good company.
Up there with Jesus and Elvis.
Nearer my god to thee.
Will you look at the way Rose
is carrying on there with the Reverend
trying to give a prayer?
That girl’s just sobbing and wailing
like nobody ever lost a son before.
It’s not dignified, I tell you.
You’d think she’d remember
her brother back from Korea,
the way they shipped him home
in pieces
hardly fit for viewing.
Old Mr. Pete down at the funeral parlor
near had a conniption when he saw that,
and her father,
stubborn mule,
would just insist that his boy
died a soldier’s death
and he was damn sure gonna to see to it
that people paid his boy
the simple respect
of looking him in the face
as they said goodbye.
Too bad there wasn’t much of it left.
Gave me a turn to look at,
and I birthed him.
A body in grief gets funny notions
sometimes.
Jesus have mercy on his soul
up there in heaven
with his grandson and Elvis.
Oh good, Young Mr. Pete’s
pulled out the cherry brandy.
That’ll get her calmed down in a hurry.
We can get some food into her
soon as the service is over.
A body shouldn’t mourn
on an empty stomach.
Girl oughta sop it up
with some of those good grits.
After all, she’s still got three others
to be mama to,
she can’t just let it all go like that.
Well, that went well.
Gave the boy a proper send-off,
Jesus love him.
Could’a done without Rose
and Cousin Fred getting spiteful
over the Jello ring,
though.
She never could stand
to watch the boy eat it,
wouldn’t even make it for him,
but I never considered it a bother.
Don’t know what got into that girl,
she always hated lime anything.
Kinda late in life for a conversion.
Didn’t either touch the key lime pie
Ardith Baxter brought,
bless her heart,
but fought poor Freddie to a draw
over that Jello ring.
They say a mother in mourning
can’t help but be out of her right mind,
but that girl’s behavior was
just north of disgraceful,
if you ask me.
‘Course, Young Mister Pete
and the Reverend did get a fair amount
of that cherry brandy into her.
It was considered an act of kindness
at the time,
just so long as she doesn’t
make a habit of it.
They say the road to hell
is paved with good intentions.
What I want to know is,
what are we going to do
with all this food?
copyright 2004
Kari J.
Hayes |
