Jimmy’s parents looked sad too, dressed in black.
The priest next to them was dressed in a white robe and gold colored scarf. He looked sad too.
Mom pushed him toward the coffin, his turn now, but Jason turned away. “No.” He didn’t want to see Jimmy in there. He pulled free, jumped back down the steps past Mr. Kirby and ran toward the sun, shining through the open front doors. Jimmy ran right there with him, laughing and racing, always in the lead. The sun felt good.
JASON SAT IN THE BACK seat of Mr. Kirby’s car, driving them across town in a long line of other cars. He drove slowly but never stopped.
Uniformed cops sped past on motorcycles, stopping at cross streets to block other cars so they wouldn’t need to stop.
Mr. Kirby finally turned into a big, grassy yard and parked behind a long line of other cars. Mom said, “We’re at the cemetery, honey. Do you want to give him a flower and say goodbye?”
“Okay.” Jason unbuckled his seatbelt.
Mr. Kirby opened the back door and Jason got out. He tried to grab Jason’s hand but Jason turned away and grabbed his mom’s hand instead. They walked across a huge lawn and gathered around Jimmy’s closed coffin. It rested on canvas straps over a hole in the ground.
Jason nodded at Mary Lou Anderson and Jaime Ortiz, two other kids from their school. They looked away, blaming Jason.
Ms. Martinez stood next to Mrs. Wilkerson. They both nodded and frowned at Jason, blaming him too.
They all blamed Jason.
Jimmy’s parents stood on the other side of the coffin with Dot, Jimmy’s four-year-old sister. Dot was small for four. Jimmy’s father could hold her in the crook of his arm. Jason couldn’t remember seeing her in church. She smiled and waved her flowers at Jason as if nothing had happened to Jimmy. Jason waved back. At least she wasn’t blaming him.
The priest moved his right hand in that funny motion and kissed his fingers.
Everybody stayed quiet and watched the white canvas straps slowly unwind from fat, polished brass pipes as the coffin sank into the hole.
The priest tossed dirt onto the coffin. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. From it we came and to it we must return.”
Everybody said, “Amen.”
“Dear Lord, accept young James into Thy tender embrace. Strengthen his family to store their love forever in Thee, ever looking for the day when they might again be united in Thy heavenly kingdom.”
Everybody said, “Amen.”
Several baskets of flowers had been arranged around the open grave. More flowers stood on fancy wire fences sticking into the grass. People started picking flowers and tossing them onto Jimmy’s coffin and Jason backed away. Why would they kill flowers and give them to Jimmy?
Mom tossed some flowers into the grave.
Maybe she knows why.
He’d ask her later.
MR. KIRBY PARKED ACROSS the street from Jimmy’s house and Jason let himself out. He knew Jimmy’s house, having been here so many times. He looked both ways, ran across the street, climbed the front steps and squeezed onto the crowded front porch.
A lot of grownups stood around, talking softly. They gave him those sad frowns. Everybody knew this was his fault.
The front door was open and Jason went inside. Lots of people stood in the dining room eating stuff with their fingers.
Jason didn’t feel like eating anything right now. He looked up the stairs toward Jimmy’s bedroom.
Dot sat halfway up in her white dress, still holding her flowers. Some of the stems had bent over. She stood and climbed down the stair, one slow step at a time, holding the rail to keep from falling. She dropped some of her flowers and stopped. She wanted to pick them up but she wanted to be with Jason more.
Jason climbed up quickly and helped her with her flowers.
She hugged her flowers and smiled.
Jason helped her climb down to the bottom of the stair.
His mom and Mr. Kirby stood over there in the dining room with Jimmy’s dad. He couldn’t see Jimmy’s mom anywhere. He pulled Dot across the room and stood near his mom.
She held both hands with Jimmy’s dad, like a handshake but not shaking.
“Thank you for coming.” Jimmy’s dad looked tired.
“I’m so sorry.” Mom looked like she might start crying again.
Mr. Kirby stepped up behind Mom and draped both hands over her shoulders, talking to Jimmy’s dad. “It’s my fault. I needed to talk with her before she left my office. She might otherwise have been there on time. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.” He let go of Mom, reached into his vest pocket and handed Jimmy’s dad a card.
Jimmy’s dad glanced at the card, set it on the dining table, grinned thinly and shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Kirby. It’s this city.” He looked out the front window and fanned toward the street. “It’s the traffic. It’s this world we live in, the political correctness, all this illegal immigration, this sanctuary business.” He took off his glasses, wiped his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, those marks from his glasses. His voice wavered, maybe not wanting to say more. “Everything has turned upside down. Nobody cares about truth or justice anymore, only about perceptions. All this multiculturalism and moral relativism and all the other isms can go straight to hell.”
Ms. Martinez turned and looked at the back of his head, a strange, maybe even angry look.
Mom wasn’t talking so Jason tugged the back of her dress.
She turned to look.
“Me and Dot are going out back.”
“Okay, honey.” She smiled and raked Jason’s hair to the side, looking into him with all that love. She turned away.
Jason led Dot out the back door and down the steps into Jimmy’s fenced backyard.
She ran to the big tree with the swing Jimmy had never let her use. The swing had been for boys only, Jason and Jimmy.
Jason put her in the swing and gave it a shove. “Lean back when
