Page 155 of Ghost
“Amen,” Lizzie sighed, shaking her head, dabbing at her eyes with her own handkerchief.
“I would very much like to let Lizzie say a few words about Francis.”Ellen stood back, leaving Lizzie standing in front of the casket.
“Mah Frankie.”She held tight to the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes again.“I never saw a happier chil’ than Frankie.He was so kind to everyone he met and even in later life, to those he never met.He was so, so smart.Sometimes he was too smart for his own good.As a small chil’, he would get himself into awful trouble being so smart and too small to know any better.”She chuckled a bit.“But he was like one of my own chil’ren and I loved him as such too.He grew into a fine gentleman.A true gentleman.”
Lizzie looked directly at Mason.“It gives me such joy to know that Frankie had a true love, ‘cause, everyone deserves to know that they are truly loved, and I can rest easy knowin’ that Frankie had that.”There was an Amen from those in the cramped and crowded room and from the front veranda.
“Thank you, Lizzie.”Ellen took the woman’s hands into her own.She looked around the room, her eyes resting on Mason.“Is there anyone else who would like to say something?”
Mason immediately shook his head no.He could barely swallow, much less speak.He felt as if his entire body might implode, scattering pieces in every direction.
“Then, if ya’ll would kindly step out onto the veranda,” Fred said, ushering people outside, “We’ll be taking Francis out the front door and down to the family cemetery.”
Sharon ushered Mason down the hallway into the dining room.Once inside, she held up her hand and said, “Stand right there and don’t move.”She left through the swinging door towards the kitchen.She came back with a bottle in a red velvet bag.
“Per Ellen’s instructions.You’re to have two quick shots before we rejoin the others.”
Sharon handed Mason a tall shot glass, uncorked the bottle of bourbon and poured a shot into the glass.She waited until Mason drank it and then quickly refilled it.Mason needed no urging to throw the second shot back.
“Another.”Mason held the glass out for her to refill.
“No, only two, that’s a direct order from Ellen herself.If you want to take that up with her, be my guest, but you won’t get far and you know it.”
Mason shook his head.“How does she do it?”
“I wish I knew.”Sharon put the bottle back into its pretty bag.“She gets people to do things I would never have thought possible.”She left the room to put the liquor away.
When she returned, she patted Mason on the shoulder.“We’re to have a big lunch after the burial and then I’ll give you the bottle if you want.”Mason nodded.
Most of the people were just arriving at the burial site when Mason and Sharon hurriedly caught up with the group.There was a woman, probably in her thirties, and four men standing off to the side who began to sing.
“Going Home, yes, lawd goin’ on home to Beulah Land”
Mason was sure he’d never heard that hymn before, and with a Pentecostal grandmother who had dragged him and his sisters to enough church services, he was sure he’d heard every hymn there was.She figured if she saved even one of her grandchildren from their heathen mother, she’d have accomplished something.
Fred, Martin and some of their family lowered Francis into the ground.When they stepped back, Lizzie and Ellen each took a handful of dirt and scattered it upon the coffin.Then one by one, those who had brought roses dropped them into the gaping hole in the ground.Mason thought he was either going to pass out or throw up, or both.It was when Ellen’s steely hand took his forearm that kept him from doing either.
“You’re doing fine, Mason.It won’t be too much longer.”
She was right.As soon as the last rose left a hand, everyone returned to the house, Ellen and Mason the last to leave the gravesite.There was some small chatter of those who had left as they walked back to the house but not much.When they rounded the corner of the house, coming from the north side, Mason saw women setting up tables with what looked like lemonade and iced tea.There were also several men setting up chairs along long folding tables that had been set up to the side of the circular drive.
“This is going to be a feast,” Ellen said quietly.“There is nothing like good ol’ soul food to help begin the healing.”
A little while later, Sharon had shoved a tall glass of lemonade into Mason’s hand.They stood there together, watching the others sitting, eating, talking and laughing.Suddenly, a small girl and boy skipped up to them.
“Hi, my name’s Charlotte and this is my cousin Charlie.”She stuck her hand out to Mason to be shaken.
“Hello there,” Mason shook the young girl’s hands.“My name’s Mason.”
“Oh, we know who you are.”Charlotte flipped her braids towards her back.“You’re the white man who has the gift.My momma says not many men have the gift and even fewer white men.She also said you are the one that Great Momma Lizzie has been waiting for.”
“Does she now?”Mason couldn’t help but smile.
“You are very pretty too.”
“Men aren’t pretty, Charlotte.Men are handsome,” Charlie explained after poking her in the ribs with his elbow.
“You may correct me only after you can spell better than me, which will be never.”Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest with a daring look on her face.
