Page 7 of Like A Moth To A Flame

My head was swimming.

I wanted to break down, but I couldn’t do it here. I couldn’t do it in front of all these people. Call it ‘Officer’s Daughter syndrome’ or whatever, but I’d never been comfortable showing my emotions in front of people. Even Barrett had only seen me break down once, maybe twice.

“Want me to drive?” Barrett asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Nope,” I said, pulling the keys out of my purse and feeding them into the ignition. “I’m good.”

I threw the car into reverse and zoomed out of the parking lot. The procession was already well down the road, and it was only maybe a mile to the cemetery. I pulled in just as the pallbearers were walking up to the hearse. I killed the engine and hurried out of the car, stumbling and trying not to fall as I made my way to the front of the line.

I was his daughter. I should be front and center.

The funeral director opened the hatch, and five men moved into place without a word. Tommy, Sheriff Banner, Dale Watchman, Brad Coleman, and Carl Lee. Weren’t there supposed to be six? What was going on? Was I expected to—

Sheriff Banner turned to me as if he could read my mind.

“My son, Hudson, was supposed to be here,” he explained, sighing. “But he’s in bed with a fever. He wanted to be here so bad, but he just—”

“I’ll do it,” Barrett spoke up beside me, and I was choked with tears again.

The Sheriff’s words from earlier rang in my head as I turned away, moving towards the chairs set up around the gravesite, draped in white with blue and black ribbons.

He took care of all of us.

It was dark by the time Barrett and I pulled out of the cemetery. We didn’t have to sit at the graveside for as long as we did, but something held me there. I had to watch them cover the casket. I had to watch the dirt cover the white wood and silver handles.

Why? To make sure they did it right? I wasn’t exactly sure, but something told me it was the right thing to do.

This time, when Barrett offered to drive, I let him. It helped to let go of the reins, even if just for a couple of minutes. I didn’t want to be strong anymore. I wanted to be a mess, and if there was ever a time it was warranted, it was now.

As we pulled down the long gravel road, I looked into the distance, gazing over the field and past the old barbed wire cow fence towards the house. There was a light in the distance, a small pinprick against the black velvet darkness that surrounded the rural fields.

“That’s weird,” Barrett said as we slowed to a crawl in front of the driveway. “Did we leave the porch light on?”

“I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “I do at home, so maybe I did, and I didn’t even notice?”

Except I didn’t. IknowI didn’t. I remembered every step I made walking out of that house this morning and flipping the light on hadn’t been one of them. Checking for my keys and phone, sure, but the light? Absolutely not.

We pulled up in front of the house, and Barrett killed the engine and handed me my keys. I’d connected them to my dad’s old rusty key ring this morning. It was easier to keep track of one set of keys instead of two.

“I have to get home,” Barrett sighed. “Gotta feed the dogs.” Barrett was a bit of an odd one, as far as gay men went. He liked to hunt, and so he had hunting dogs.

A gay cowboy.

I’m sure there was a Brokeback Mountain joke in me somewhere, but I didn’t have the energy.

“You gonna be okay?” Barrett asked, looking over at me. Even in the darkness and the dim glow from the porch light, I could see his eyes swimming with tears.

Say no,I thought to myself.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” is what came out of my mouth instead.

“You sure?”

I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice to lie again.

Leaning over, he gave me a quick hug and pushed open the driver’s side door. Stepping out into the darkness, he moved to his truck. I listened for his footsteps, and then the door opened and I jumped when it slammed closed. His headlight flashed across me just as I stepped out onto the gravel. With a wave, he disappeared down the driveway and was gone. Something in me wanted to call after him and beg him to stay, but I couldn’t do that.

Standing in the darkness, I could feel how alone I was. I had no one else on this earth. It was just me and the shadows, the warm summer breeze whispering through the tall, tufted grass and ghosting through the creaking branches of the old elm hanging over my head.

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