Scene 11: Laughing at Death Part 2

Setting: A funeral home, empty stage

Shawn:

I remember the first time I saw her after it finally happened.

Nothing seemed real to me so far. It’s one thing that I was told she was gone, but despite all logic, there was a part of me that needed to see her to prove she really wasn't alive.

There was a starkness, and grim formality to the funeral home. All that space between everything made me feel more alone than usual, and under-dressed. There was faint, indiscernible music somewhere in the background, and I remember realizing it was elevator music, which I guess is really the only choice given the occasion.  I probably wouldn't have wanted to hear anything recognizable or inappropriate.

I remember waiting for a while before seeing her. I guess I understand, it’s not supposed to be an in and out kind of thing, there should be a little bit of dignity and respect, or maybe just a little more time to take a deep breath and prepare yourself.

What will she look like?

How will her face look? Serene and peaceful? I hope. I don’t want to see any pain.

How do I react when I see her? Am I still human if I don’t cry?

Will her neck look okay? Will they have to do something to hide it if it doesn’t look okay?

I shouldn't even think about that.

Will there be a… smell? Fuck, I’m such an idiot. Who thinks that?

And while all those thoughts were swirling around in my head, we were called in to see her.

Suddenly the elevator music was quite audible in the room we entered. Typically, I think the only way I've ever heard elevator music was very quiet, so there was something quite unsettling about it. The room was unnecessarily huge in my mind, and we had to make a big dramatic cross to get to the coffin.

There were no words, but I could pick out the tune:

“And I think it's gonna be a long long time, ‘til touch down brings me round again to find, I'm not the man they think I am at home…”

Christ.

The journey across the room seemed both dramatic and bizarre, given the soundtrack. I started to see her head, just the hair at first, and I knew something wasn't quite right.

“Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids, In fact it’s cold as hell, And there’s no one there to raise them if you did…”

Mom was never one to get too made up for anything. She did her hair very simple, and most of the time, there was really no makeup to speak of. Now and then, if she was feeling really wild, she’d do lipstick and eye shadow.

Looks like they decided to give Mom a makeover.

Here was this woman, with well-done and very big curly hair. She had dark eye makeup, a nice deep blue with additional smokiness I’d never thought possible. Her cheeks were done up in a rosy red blush, and her lipstick was a deep Merlot.

“I'm a rocket man
Rocket man!
Burnin' out his fuse
Up here alone…”

I could feel a smirk creeping onto my face. This was not making things feel more grounded in reality at all. If anything, it was making things feel completely dreamlike and surreal.

“And I think it’s gonna be a long long time… And I think it’s gonna be a long long time…”

I relaxed. All the tension left me.

I knew we’d have to say something so that they could have her… altered… to look more like herself, so I was glad for the viewing. In a strange way, it might have gone exactly how I needed it to go.

I don’t know what to do with death, and at that time it seemed like death didn't know what to do with me, so we were getting along just fine.