Piece: Part II

Matthew straightened his dark black jacket as he stood up, walked to the lectern. The stand in the old church building was covered in white roses and lilies, purple lilacs, and tiny Queen Anne’s Lace, her favorite flowers. In front of the podium was a silver-framed photo of a young girl, her curled hair swept up behind her, her green eyes glistening.

He cleared his throat as he reached the microphone. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my sister Elisabeth was the sweetest, most kind-hearted, and the smartest girl I’ve ever known. She was brave yet calm, strong yet gentle, and wise yet humble. My whole life I’ve tried to be just like her, to be able to stand next to her proudly for my father, but she was always just one step ahead.” His choking began to become outright sobs. Several very loud sniffles were heard from the few front rows, where all the doting aunts and grandmothers of the neighborhood took up residence. Their netted hats shook with their quiet crying.

Matthew stood there for a few minutes in silence, his head bowed low. I can’t do this, he thought bitterly. How could they ask me to do this, when he’s sitting right here? He could feel all the impatient neighbors’ eyes looking at him expectantly, swallowed his tears, and stood up straight. He stared directly at the back of the chapel, avoiding anyone’s gaze as he finished the speech he had previously memorized.

“All I know is that she’d better be in paradise, ‘cause if she’s not, then I’m going to Hell too.” A few of the more prudish old women gasped slightly, then resumed crying as Matthew stepped down. He stood back, staring out into the audience for a few seconds, just to get his balance. His eyes finally focused as he noticed a dark figure on the last row get up and leave. His eyebrows narrowed, but he walked calmly to his seat in the front row and sat down, his fists clenched, slow tears leaking down his cheeks.