Jason and my father nodded to my grandfather and then led our group outside. My mother was crying openly, and I couldn't stop tears from running down my face. Beryl was silent and remained that way all the way home. Hess was very drunk and slept in the back of the transport for some time that night.
Jason helped me out of the transport and walked me to the house. A section of encrusted sparkles fell off my shoe, and I broke down crying. Jason gathered me up into his arms, carried me into my bedroom, and carefully placed me on the bed. My father followed behind us, patted Jason on the shoulder and thanked him for his help.
“I'll be back tomorrow morning Kar, I hope you sleep well,” Jason pulled a small throw blanket over my legs, kissed my forehead and left. He and my father whispered in the hallway before his light, quick steps walked out of the front door.
Loneliness found me an hour later. It was impossible to stay asleep. My new lace quilt sat folded at the end of my bed. I carefully removed my black diamond heirloom and hid beneath the thick quilt.
The air beneath the blanket felt restricted and warm. I held my breath over and over, trying to create the sensation of suffocation. This method of death always fascinated me, but I can't hold my breath very long before my body takes over and forces me to breathe.
Each time I held my breath longer I grew sleepier, and my thoughts became lighter until finally, my mind drifted off into quiet dreams.
LAST REQUESTS
“Constance for the love of Pete, come sit down with me.” Ed put the television on a nature program about the ancient oceans. The sounds of the waves and birds were tranquil in our sterile room.
The room was white on white with minimal furnishings. A bed, a desk, and a narrow table for food dotted the room. I heard stories about couples that trashed their rooms before dying. I can't imagine why they would do such a thing, but it did seem practical to have a sparse final space.
The celebration package we settled on had only a few frills, but we both liked the food upgrade option. The room's lockbox was about the size of a shoebox, but it allowed you to send final letters and jewelry items back to your loved ones. I was happy with our final arrangements.
“I have three more thank you cards to sign Edward, they aren't going to sign themselves,” I explained.
“I've already had some of the wine and the chocolate cake,” Ed stated in a loud, firm voice.
“I had a piece of the cake too, but I need to function for a few more minutes.”
“One more bite of something sweet then it’s lights out for me. Won't you sit beside me, sweetheart,” Edgar sighed.
“Wait a few minutes. We agreed I would sign the cards and fill the lockbox before we ate the second item.”
“I'm not going to change my mind, Constance, my love. It's too late now, even if I wanted to.”
“I know you're not.” I placed the last note in the box. “All done with that task. Now the strawberries and then I will have my wine and catch up to you. Anything else to add to the box before I seal it shut?”
“No, I put my ring and my final letters away already.”
“Look, I'm going to gulp down the wine right now, you old fart.”
“Get on the bed woman, or you might just keel over on the damn floor,” Ed protested, dropping his arms on the bed dramatically.
“Pray with me, Ed, just one last Our Father, and hold the rosary with me.”
“Sure, can't hurt now. Not like anyone can arrest us for religious practice.” We quietly recited the Lord's Prayer. The struggle in Ed's voice as he fought to push out each blessed word brought tears to my eyes.
“We will be huge trees one day, Ed. Intertwined together at the base of an oak tree for all time.” I delighted in the thought of nurturing something so beautiful and vital in my death.
“Yes, my dear, we will be one big ass green tree. Kiss me and move closer before your wine sets in. I can barely move my arms over my head,” Edgar stated coolly.
I moved my body close to his. “Can you reach the strawberry on your chest?”
“Yeah, here goes nothing, I love you, my sweetheart. We had a good life, and now we will have a good death. I'll see you in a few minutes.” Ed popped the unnaturally red fruit in his mouth.
“I love you. I love you, my Sweet. Ed, do you need another berry? Ed?” My husband of fifty-five years stopped breathing. I took the gold cross from my palm and wrapped it around his hand just as the Priest instructed. I did the same with my hand and took a final bite from the strawberry before burying my face into Ed's arm.
The food was poisoned. A three-part cocktail that slowly stops all body functions and brings on a smooth, fast death. We would not be feeding the evaporators in the morning. The reclamation crew would find the crosses coiled in our hands and call our Priest. He, along with a few faithful souls from our congregation, would collect our bodies for the tree museum.
Religion is outlawed but donating your body to a scientific organization was not. Burial is prohibited but using a donated human body to nourish an endangered tree is not. It was the only way to have a Christian burial, and I was happy the church found an acceptable loophole ready to give us this option.
I was a few minutes behind Ed's chemical state. I read all the literature and took the final preparations classes, but this was not
