Amen (incomplete)

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name." The words of the black-clad gathering sank to the earth like a heavy fog, pouring into the crevice before them. Their prayers were smooth but stung the throat, like honey. "Thy kingdom come Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Off in the distance, a baby cried; the sound was hallowed by the thick humidity in the April air. 1

A woman in a shapeless, faded black dress watched the priest in interest as he made the motion of the cross with his hand. His face was thick, the heavy fat of his cheeks and chins pulled down his eyes, giving him the look of a shaven bulldog. His lips were thin and chapped as they blandly recited the words he had spoken so many times before; today was no different. The woman cocked her head like a young dog as she surveyed the crowd. The men and women surrounding the grave were sallow; they whispered the prayer robotically between sobs. 2

The woman smiled as she imagined what it would be like to have so many people crying over her--so many people cared about you when you were dead, more than when you were alive, anyway, and she desperately wished to feel that sense of worthiness. Needed to. 3

"Amen." She pulled out of her reverie as the crowd began to disperse, some still crying, others apathetic. The woman slipped from the crowd and walked hurriedly toward her car, parked beside the gate of the cemetery. Her heart jumped into her mouth when her heel slipped on the wet pavement on the hill. She hated heels--they had no traction, and she had no grace. She quickly straightened herself and continued to the car, her keys jingling in her little faux leather purse.     4

"Sarah?" 5

The woman turned to see a tall, lanky man with balding yellow hair walk slowly toward her.6

"Yes?" She asked politely, but with a definite I-have-other-places-to-be tone. 7

He shuffled nervously and dabbed at his shiny forehead with a handkerchief. "I…I'm sorry for your loss."8

Sarah winced slightly (her feet were extremely sore, and her head hummed) and said, "Oh, well, thank you. I have to be going now."9

The man nodded sympathetically and rejoined a group of happily sad people by the gate. 10

After digging in her purse, Sarah fumbled with her keys, attempting to shove them into the lock of her car door. After several moments of struggle, she managed to regain access to her rusting green Gremlin. 11

~*~12

The drive home was uneventful. No images of her deceased father flashed through her mind, no thoughts of "why not me?" rang in her ears. As she pushed through the door of her small apartment she couldn’t help but be a little jealous of her father. Good people served God and their families, and then they went to heaven. Her father was a good father. He would go to heaven.   13

Sarah winced as she slipped her sore feet from her hard leather shoes (it was not the kind of pair of shoes you wore more than once) and flicked on the light switch, revealing the three foot Madonna, resting in the hall. While maintaining her balance by leaning against the peeling white door, she rubbed her left heel (which had a particularly painful blister on the back). 14

With a sigh, she straightened herself and continued to the kitchen. The little red light on her answering machine was blinking, so she pressed the button to hear what the world had to say to her today while she was at her father’s funeral.15

Beep.16

"Sarah? Are you home? It’s Jack. For the record, I know I was supposed to pick up the kids from school but you know my therapist said that I have too many responsibilities as it is, and I can’t be their own personal taxi service too--"17

Sarah rolled her eyes and hit the ERASE button on the answering machine, bringing on the next onslaught of messages. 18

Beep.19

"Mom—I’m spending the night at a friend’s house."20

Again, she pressed the button that wiped her sixteen year old daughter's voice from the microcosm of her kitchen.21

Beep.22

"Sarah, when are you going to start dating again--it's been over a month since the divorce, he's with another woman, he's not coming back, and you're not going to be in your forties forever--"23

Another press of the button and she annihilated her neighbor from her answering machine. The hum in her head became slightly painful. 24

Beep.25

"Hello, this is Christian Peterson from Liberty Bank for Sarah Goodman? You are behind two payments on your car and house--"26

A gentle push and Christian Peterson from Liberty Bank was no more. 27

Sarah sighed and walked toward her seventies' green refrigerator with the broken handle. She pulled out a Weight Watchers dessert cake and popped it into her mouth. It was disgusting, but she ate it anyway. 28

"It's only two points."  She muttered to herself as she shut the refrigerator door.  29

"Sasha?" She yelled through a mouthful of food to nothing. She turned sharply toward the sitting area when she heard the distinct chime of her cat’s collar. "Sasha?" She said more softly. 30

Though her back was quite sore, she bent under the tattered sofa to look for her only companion in the dingy apartment. "Sasha, baby, mommy's had a really bad day—I need a kiss." She pleaded to the obstinate orange ball of fluff beneath the couch. Sasha let loose an angry mewl and retreated as far under the couch as possible.31

Sarah sighed and straightened with a crack of her back. The dull hum that had been lingering in the back of her skull spread and resounded to a quaking pain. She needed an aspirin or something. On the way to the medicine cabinet above the stove, her eyes squeezed shut as she rubbed her temples.32

"Shit!" she hissed through her teeth when she tripped over her dog's water bowl, soaking the toes of her only unspoiled pair of hosiery. Sarah opened her eyes long enough to locate and open the medicine cabinet. Once her hands were wrapped around the cold bottle of pain-killers, she shut her eyes again.33

Hands sliding over the cheap cabinets like they were brail, she was able to find herself the cupboard with the bowls and glasses, so she could have something to drink with the pills. A particularly painful throb near her temple caused her elbow to jerkily shift, knocking several glasses to the floor. They cracked as they hit the counter, and shattered when they reached to floor. The chime of the tinkling glass stung her eyes and the tiny shards of glass burrowed into her heels and toes, slicing away at each nerve. 34


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