Confronted With Death Confronted with Death Chapter One: Eighteen year old Beth Stuyvesant had never been confronted with death before: with its finality, its cruelty, its horror, and its pain --- or, as in Mattie's case, its blessing. Trembling as she stood at the back of the small chapel in Prescott's Funeral Home, Beth could not help wondering how they went about cremating people, her mother in particular. She assumed that the barbaric procedure, too bizarre to think about, had taken place at Prescott's and that some sort of service was soon to follow. Dr. Harrison Mitchell, who made all of the final arrangements, told her the night Mattie died that the Prescott Funeral Home had been a family business for over a century. The worn carpeting, the cracked ceiling, and the dirty, dingy walls made it seem at least that old to Beth. � The present owner, Jeremy Prescott, gently took Beth by the arm and led her to a seat in the front row. Passing row after row of empty seats, she was both shocked and embarrassed at the few people who'd come to share her grief. Besides Dr. and Mrs. Mitchell, and Jeremy Prescott, whom you really couldn't count, Beth recognized two neighbors, two girls from high school, and three day - workers that helped take care of Mattie. There were nine people she didn't know. And that was it! How was it possible for a family to have been so isolated? How was it possible that Mama touched so few lives? How could her death evoke such triviality? A shiver went through her entire body. She felt cold and lightheaded as the room became still. There were no sounds. Nothing! The sensation was surreal. Then she saw Jeremy Prescott walk slowly down the aisle carrying a large crimson urn, which he carefully placed on a ledge only a few feet from where she sat. Gripping the arms of her chair, she gasped, startling herself, and spoke louder than she meant to. "Oh my God! It's Mama!" Her eyes began to fill with tears. Her chest felt like it was in a vise. Beads of perspiration formed on her brow and on her upper lip. Then Dr. Mitchell sat down beside her, smiled, and mumbled something as he reached for her hand. "What?" "I said she is at peace." "Yes. She is at peace." Beth couldn't stop looking at the urn. She felt almost possessed by it as it seemed to reach out to her. Can this really be Mama? How full is the vase? What colors are the ashes? Her thoughts were once again interrupted by Harrison Mitchell. "Reverend McCauley has been our minister for quite some time. Mrs. Mitchell and I thought it would be fitting if he said a few words." Soon a thin, stooped, elderly man in an ill-fitting black suit and carrying a worn Bible, walked up to the lectern. He paused, cleared his throat, looked at Beth, and began speaking in a very high pitched voice. "Let us bow our heads. For as it has pleased Almighty God to take unto Himself the soul of our departed sister, we bear her body to this place prepared for it. That ashes may return to ashes and dust to dust; and the imperishable spirit, refined as by fire, may be forever with the Lord." Then he paused, looked down at his notes, and once again looked at Beth. "I did not know Mattie Stuyvesant very well, having only met her once a long time ago. But sometimes first impressions, even brief ones, can be most revealing." Rev. McCauley looked back at his notes. "She was taken from us much too soon. Cut down in the prime of life. "He then cleared his throat. "Mattie was indeed a good mother and a devoted wife. A vanishing breed. Family and home were all that concerned her. She had no other outside interests and refused to be caught up in today's materialistic world." Rev. McCauley again paused and looked at Beth. "So we say goodbye to Mattie Freyer Stuyvesant and we know that she will suffer no more. And may God have mercy on her soul." When the brief service was over, Beth walked up to the minister. "Thank you for the kind words, Reverend McCauley." "You are quite welcome, my dear. And now if you will excuse me --- " While Beth was pondering the abruptness of the minister, two high school classmates came over, smiled, and each in turn squeezed her hand, making Beth sorry she had not been friendlier to them in school. There were so many times that Charlene Paul and Adine Anders had tried to include Beth by asking her to go to a movie or inviting her to a slumber party or just to sleep over for no reason. And each time she refused because she had to tend to Mattie. Finally, they quit calling her. Beth knew her attitude came across as anti-social and unfriendly. Maybe now they would understand. The other people merely nodded and left. Finally, Dr. and Mrs. Mitchell came up and silently gave Beth a warm hug. Then they too left. Looking at the Mitchells, Beth was reminded of her own parents. The physician was tall like her father and his wife was thin and frail looking like her mother. Actually, Mattie was frail looking even before her illness. But her frailty never kept her from being strong and true to her beliefs that a woman's place was in the home. She was not pretty, but neither was she unattractive, with coal black hair and bright hazel eyes. A.F. Stuyvesant, on the other hand, was a large muscular dock worker. He was of Dutch descent, with dark wavy hair and large brown eyes. His given name was Aldo Farnsworth, which he told Beth he hated as much as he hated his parents for giving it to him. So no one ever called him anything but A.F. No one, that is, except Mattie. Beth opened her eyes slowly and stared down at her purse for several seconds.. Then she flicked the clasp and took out a framed five by seven black and white photograph which she normally kept atop her dresser. The picture was taken at some forgotten beach ten years ago. In it, Beth was eight years old and she and her parents were all smiling. The photo reminded Beth that at one time they were a family --- and she felt secure. --- then everything changed --- --- "Boy, that water is great!" said Beth out of breath. "A little salty, but great." "Now you can't go out any farther than you were." said her father. "I know." said Beth. "That undertow is dangerous." A.F. shook sand out of his trunks. "I know." "There's man-o-war and God knows what else out there." her father continued. "I know ,Papa!" Mattie gave her daughter a fresh towel. "Mama, can I get an ice cream cone?" Beth began to dry her hair. "Aldo --- ?" Mattie put the dirty clothes in a large carry-on. "Sure. Why not?" A.F. gently swooped his daughter up in his large hands. "Maybe I'll have one too." He put Beth down and began putting on his jeans over his trunks. "You want one, Mattie?" "No. I don't think so." Mattie put on her top and picked up the carry-on, swinging it as if it were a face towel. "Is everyone ready?" "Papa! Mama! Look!" "What, sweetie?" They both looked toward the tent that Beth was pointing at. "That sign." Beth's excitement exploded inside her. "It says ' fortune teller '." "Forget it!" said A.F. "Let's just go and get our ice cream and --- " "Oh, please Papa." "Beth, those people are fakes." A.F. started to walk on. "And besides --- " "Come on, Aldo." Mattie put down the carry-on. "It's just for fun." "Mattie --- " "Please Papa. Please!" Beth's words stopped him. "Well, this goes against my better judgement." A.F. ran his hand through his thick hair. "But seeing as I'm outnumbered --- " "Thanks, Papa!" She began to jump up and down. A.F. turned to his daughter. "I will guarantee you it will be an old lady with a Hungarian accent and a red scarf around her head." "You're probably right, Aldo." Mattie walked up to her husband. "Of course I'm right. You can't take any of it seriously." "Aldo, it's only for fun." "It's a waste of time and money!" A.F. said to Mattie. "Oh, Papa!" He turned to his energized daughter. "Well, it is!" As the three neared the tent, Mattie said, "I think maybe I'll wait outside." "What?" A.F. and Beth were both surprised. "I --- I really don't care to go in." A.F. paused a second. "Why, for God's sake?" "You said it was just for fun , Mama." "I know, but even so --- " Mattie put the carry-on against a tree and looked away toward the ocean. "Look, Mattie --- " "Maybe --- sometimes --- it's best not to know." said Mattie dreamily. A.F. looked at his wife, puzzled. "Know what?" Mattie closed her eyes, still looking away. "The future." A.F. paused again, still staring at Mattie. "You can't possibly be serious." Mattie turned to face A.F. "Yes. I am serious. I don't feel comfortable with someone telling me about the rest of my life." Then she turned back to the ocean. "Please. Just go without me." "Come on Mama." "No, sweetie. I'll wait here." "Okay, then wait here. This is no big deal , Mattie." As she entered the tent, Beth stifled a laugh when she saw the red scarf around the head of an old lady seated behind a small dirty table. Her hair looked like the end of a wet mop. And her hook nose and wrinkled ashen face reminded Beth of the wicked witch in the Wizard Of Oz. "Well, young lady, would you like to know what the future has in store for you?" She had no accent. "Yes!" Beth walked up to the table. Her father remained a few steps behind. The old lady picked up Beth's tiny hand and stared at it for several seconds.. "I see --- I see that you are eight years old." As she spoke, she slowly moved her bony fingers along Beth's palm. "That's right." Beth was impressed. "And you are --- an only child." "How did you know that?" Beth's eyes were wide open. "It says so right --- here." She pointed to a spot next to the child's thumb.. "What else?" asked Beth excitedly. "I see something --- something cold. I see --- I see ice cream." "Wow!" The old lady continued to move her finger along Beth's palm. "What else?" asked Beth. Her eyes were still wide open. "I see --- " The fortune teller wrinkled her brow and stared for several more seconds. Then she gently laid Beth's hand on the table. "I see only ice cream. Nothing else!" Beth thought the lady looked as if she were in pain. "But what about --- ?" "I said I see nothing else. There is no more to tell!" The old lady stood up "Come on, Beth. Let's go." A.F. walked up to his daughter. "But, Papa. I --- " "I said let's go!" He put fifteen dollars on the table. "There is no charge!" The fortune teller avoided eye contact with either Beth or her father. "What?" asked A.F. incredulously. "Take back your money. There is no charge!" The old lady walked to the back room leaving A.F. with his mouth open. "That was strange." said A.F. to Mattie outside the tent. "What was?" She looked at her husband quizzically. "She didn't charge us." "How odd. I wonder why." "I don't know." said A.F. looking at the tent. "Papa, you said fortune tellers were fake." "I know --- " A.F.'s gaze remained focused on the tent. "But, Papa, she knew about me and the ice cream and --- " "Aldo, let's go. I feel strange. Like --- like something is going to happen." "Nothing is going to happen, Mattie." A.F. put one arm around Beth and the other around Mattie. "Come on. I think it's time for ice cream." "Okay, Papa." "Hey!" said A.F. to Beth. "Race you to the snack bar." "Allright." she answered. " --- ready?" "Oh, you two. Honestly! How about forget the race and help me carry the --- " "Beth, we'll race next time." He turned to his wife. "Okay, Mattie. Let's --- . Mattie, what are you looking at?" "I'm not looking, Aldo." She was gazing at the clouds. "I'm --- listening." "Okay then. What are you listening to?" "Well --- I don't hear it now, but --- " She waited a moment before continuing. " --- I could have sworn I heard the faint cry of a --- whippoorwill." "Big deal!" A. F. looked up at the sky. "I haven't heard that awful sound in years --- " "I didn't hear anything." A.F. looked at his daughter. "Did you Beth?" Beth shook her head. "Is something wrong, Mama?" "I didn't know they were in this part of the country." She continued to stare dreamily at the sky. "So what if they are?" A.F. asked "It's a bad sign, Aldo." She squeezed her daughters hand. "It means --- " "Mama, you're scaring me." "What? Oh---I'm sorry sweetie." Mattie forced a smile. "I didn't mean to." "Okay you two. That's it!" A.F. again picked up his daughter and pointed his finger away from the ocean. "Let's go!" --- Beth's eyes popped open as she sat up abruptly, disoriented for a moment.. The Prescott Funeral Home was still very quiet. She was alone and once again found her gaze fixated onto the crimson urn. She was taken from us much too soon. Cut down in the prime of life. She turned her head quickly and glanced around the room. The cracks in the ceiling looked as if they were expanding, the walls seemed to be getting darker and the carpet appeared to be unraveling right before her eyes. She knew her mind was playing games with her. But she was not about to let her imagination take control. She couldn't! She closed her eyes tightly for several seconds hoping for the return of at least a semblance of normality. When she opened her eyes, she got her wish. Everything in the room was back to normal. Beth wondered if, maybe, it was time to leave. She wiped her sweaty palms against her skirt and took one final look at the snapshot. She paused to study her father's face. Beth thought they had such a keen luster to them. And they seemed so vibrant. But, as she slipped the photo into her purse, she remembered how, little by little, the luster slowly faded and the vibrancy completely disappeared ---- * _____________________________________________________________ �
Copyright © 1991 B J Bloch |