No Team To Root For (14) So far, so good! "Well, I certainly can't blame you for that." Syrus paused again to take a long look at the mound under the sheet. His next comment seemed to Barrett to be an afterthought. "Why don't I just put down DEATH BY NATURAL CAUSES on the death certificate. We'll forget the autopsy. Let's try and keep it --- simple." Case closed! Thank you Sy Marcus! "Oh. I almost forgot. Here." Sy handed Barrett a bottle marked COMPOZINE SAMPLES NOT FOR SALE. Barrett absently put the bottle in his pants pocket. "One more thing, Sy. If I could impose." Barrett suddenly felt dizzy. He had to hold on to the bedpost. "Would you call Janet's parents for me? We never got along all that well and since you know them maybe this would be better coming from you." "Oh sure. No problem. Hell, Jack and I went to school together in Illinois." Sy again patted Barrett's shoulder. And we did a lot of rabbit hunting --- Jack and I. Yeah boy! That sure was a long time ago." He cocked his head and rubbed his chin. "I think he and Ellie still live in San Diego." "Yes they do." Barrett continued to look at Sy. He still couldn't look at the mound under the sheets that used to be his wife. "The last correspondence between us was --- oh maybe nine or ten months ago." The physician rubbed his chin again. "Yeah, I'll call 'em for you. I know I got their phone number at home some-where." "I really appreciate that, Sy." Barrett turned and faced the door. "That would be a tremendous weight off my shoulders." "Consider it done!" Now Sy and Barrett were both standing in the open doorway. Sy added, "Why don't I call Mowery's Funeral Home for you?" The funeral! I keep forgetting about the fucking funeral! "It's only one more phone call." continued Sy, "And seeing as I know Gene Mowery so well, it might be easier for me to make the arrangements. You just tell me how much to spend." "Use your own judgement. Janet had a small life insurance policy. So whatever it is, it is." Barrett gently tried to push Sy past the open door. He had to close it behind him! "I can't worry about the money part of this. As you said, keep it simple." "Okay. But Gene is fair. He will always work something out with you." "Sy, I owe you one large favor." You'll never know how large! Barrett again tried to usher Sy from the open door. "Forget it." Sy turned toward Barrett, still standing in the open doorway. "Maybe you should stay at our place tonight." Sy was concerned. "I'm not so sure you should be alone --- at least until af-ter the funeral." "Nah. I can handle it." Barrett again tried to get away from the open doorway. He knew he had to leave this room and he had to do it now! "And I really would prefer to sleep at home." "Okay. Suit yourself." The two colleagues shook hands. "Well --- I'll be seeing you." "Yeah, I'll see you Sy. And thanks again." As soon as Sy Marcus left, Barrett slammed the bedroom door shut so hard the walls shook. Then he stood still for several min-utes with his back to the door waiting for his vital signs to re turn to normal. He took the bottle of pills out of his pocket, looked at it for a second, then put it back, hoping he wouldn't need them. He went downstairs to the family room and picked up the phone. His hand was shaking. First he called the apartment. There was no answer. He called the library. There was no answer. Thirty minutes later he called the library again. And after twenty rings he slammed down the receiver, totally frustrated. Then he tried her apartment again. After twenty-five rings, he hung up. Where the hell is she? His thoughts were interrupted by a fright-ening but familiar sound. Thump --- thump. Thump --- thump. Barrett ran to the foot of the stairs. It was louder now. THUMP --- THUMP. THUMP --- THUMP. "Shut up Goddamn it! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Barrett raced up the steps and stopped at the closed door to the master bedroom. He put his ear to the door and listened. He was sweating profusely and breathing erratically. The awful sound had stopped. Now he could hear the pops and creaks again. He heard the soft ticking of the kitchen clock. Barrett felt his imagination had once again taken control --- like last night. Be calm. Don't panic! He waited for what seemed like a millennium. Then satisfied that the ungodly noises had ceased, he went back to the family room. He was trembling and he felt like his heart was in his throat. I should have slept at Sy's until after the funeral. Barrett knew he had to get some sleep. He would need all of his strength to help him through the next few days --- and especially the funeral! The optometrist lay down on the sofa and prayed that sleep would come and rescue him from this horrendous day. Maybe if he counted backwards starting with one hundred. By ninety-six he was asleep. * At 10:15 Mowery's Funeral Home removed Janet's body. Barrett stayed in the family room the entire time. He knew he had to turn his back on the grim maneuver. As soon as her body was put into the hearse Gene Mowery came back into the house to extend his condolences. And, yes, he had spoken to Sy Marcus. And, yes, he would take care of everything. After the funeral director left, Barrett again called the library. No, they hadn't seen her. But they would tell Ms.Bartless that Dr. Bar-rett Jessop had called. Later that day Sy Marcus called. The funeral would be on Satur-day at 10:00 am. The extra day would allow the Stevens' time to come in from California. Discomposure and agony were close at hand. * XVI At 12:30 and in spite of Marie's request that no one bother the 'bereaved' husband, people started coming over. First the Richard-sons, then the Sharkeys, then some of Janet's canasta friends, then the Mintons. Back and forth! People arrived and left all day. Some stayed for hours. Others stayed only a few minutes. Some that left returned later. Some seemed to have never left! Many were people he had never seen before. They all came over and gave him their condolences. Barrett remembered very few, if any, names. He tried desperately to get to his telephone. He had to reach Jodi. But there was so much confusion all day, he never got the chance to make the call. Every time he got near the phone, someone would put their hand on his arm and tell him how sorry they were. When the last person, a wet-eyed Sara Sharkey, left, Barrett lit-erally collapsed onto the sofa. He was sure he could swim the Eng-lish Channel up and back and not feel this drained! He knew that if he had to hear 'It must have been a shock' or 'I am so very sorry' or 'What a terrible ordeal for you' or 'What a shame. Such a kind person', one more time, he would scream! He took off his tie and his shoes and loosened his shirt. He was drenched with sweat. He first bolted the door then picked up the phone. He let it ring thirty times! No answer. Barrett would go to her apartment after the funeral. He couldn't think any longer. He had to get to bed. It was only 8:30, but he couldn't function. His eyelids felt like lead, his entire body ached and his head was ready to explode. Tomorrow was another day. * Barrett walked up the stairs for the first time since Gene Mowery had removed Janet's body. He stopped in front of the door to the empty master bedroom. He stared at the closed door, un able to look at the vacant bed inside. There was no way he could enter the room, let alone sleep in it! He would sleep in the spare bedroom tonight, even though he hated it. It was small, there was no closet space, and the bed was extremely uncomfortable. The light switch never seemed to work and the wallpaper was an ugly blue and yellow made up of circles of varying diameters. Barrett remembered when Janet picked it out. The only other bedroom had been re-done into a large walk-in closet. Barrett had very little choice. And as bad as the bed was, it was still better than the sofa. He threw his shirt and pants over the chair and lay down in his socks and boxer shorts. Now he would try and find a place on the bed that did not have large bumps or deep crevices. Staring at the ceiling, Barrett suddenly realized that this was the first time he was sleeping alone. It gave him a strange and eerie sort of feeling. He felt guilty. Then he felt free. Then it was deep remorse. His thoughts bounced back and forth until he thought his mind, now a disoriented mess, would disintegrate. He tried unsuccessfully to make his mind a blank. He wondered how long it would be this way. "I had to do it --- didn't I? The rest of my life was at stake --- wasn't it? It was Janet's fault. She should have granted me a divorce sensibly. But no. Not Janet! She shouldn't have been so fucking adamant! Goddamn her anyway! But if her death was justified, why do I feel so guilty? Shit! It's too fucking late for second thoughts." He realized he was talking out loud. "So far I've lucked out. No one knows. No one will ever know!" XVII Janet Jessop was buried at Mt. Zion Cemetery on Saturday May 13th at 10:00 am. Mt Zion was one of the oldest cemeteries in cen-tral Ohio. It was also one of the best cared for. The grounds looked as if the grass were cut one blade at a time, the headstones always appeared to be brand new, there were no weeds, and all the graves were separated enough so that when people walked about, they never had to feel as if they were walking on 'someone'. Barrett thought it best to have graveside services. He felt the cus-tomary funeral too long, too painful, and in general unnecessary. Sy Marcus felt, and Barrett agreed, that as a courtesy to Janet's parents, a Catholic Priest should be employed to perform the rites and give the eulogy, even though it was common knowledge that the deceased had absolutely no affiliation with the Catholic Church. So Father Jordan Smoot, a longtime friend of Sy Marcus, had been obtained for this occasion. The elderly priest was short and thin with a large bald spot directly in the center of his oversized head. He wore steel rimmed half-eyes that were normally at the end of his hook nose. On this particular day the skies were heavily overcast with the threat of rain imminent. Barrett wondered why funerals always seemed to be predisposed to inclement weather. Why, he won-dered, was there always a drastic drop in temperature for no appar-ent scientific reason? Suddenly a brisk wind that seemed to have erupted from out of nowhere, showed its impartial hostility and outright supremacy as it viciously attacked those that had come to pay their respects. Eve-ryone, including Barrett, finally conceded that the elements had won out --- as they always did in any encounter with nature. Barrett, distressed and shivering, tried to focus on Father Smoot's words to avoid looking at Janet's casket, which was now being lowered to its final resting place by two muscular young men with neatly trimmed beards. But Barrett, with his hands deep in the pockets of his topcoat, felt himself drawn to look at the freshly dug grave. It was as if the casket was a large magnet and his eyes were two small pieces of metal. After Father Smoot ended his brief generic eulogy, in which he had referred to Janet as kind and giving, a good wife, and a fine and loving daughter, he cleared his throat roughly and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Barrett knew the words were directed at her parents. The Reverend continued in competition with the elements. "Please join me for the Twenty-third Psalm. The Lord is my Shep-herd --- " Barrett tried with difficulty to concentrate on the words but his mind wouldn't cooperate. He wasn't able to reconcile his inner con-flicts. Then he heard it again. Thump --- thump. Thump --- thump. It was very soft. "He leadeth me beside the still water --- " Then it got louder. THUMP --- THUMP. THUMP --- THUMP. "Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me --- " There was no doubt in Barrett's mind that it was coming from his late wife's casket. This is not real! It can't be! THUMP --- THUMP. THUMP --- THUMP. Barrett closed his eyes tightly and put his hands over his ears. "STOP IT! STOP IT!" he yelled. Then there was a long silence. Even the wind had quieted. "Barrett. You okay?" Lysle Richardson was at his side, his hand on his arm. The eye doctor put his arms down and looked at his friend as if he had just come out of a deep sleep. He felt momentarily disoriented. Then Barrett looked away and listened. The sound had stopped. Barrett turned back to Lysle. "Yes. I --- I'm okay." He was embar-rassed. "Are you sure?" Lysle seemed scared. Barrett knew that everyone was looking at him: The Mintons, the Sharkeys, Marie, the acquaintances that had been bombarding him with visits and phone calls, and even the two young gravediggers. The only exceptions were Ellie and Jack Stevens. They kept their eyes glued to their daughter's casket as it was being lowered into the ground. The sunglasses they wore covered up any despondency they felt. "Are you okay, son?" Sy Marcus came up to Barrett on the other side. He and Lysle exchanged concerned glances. "I --- I'm fine. The strain --- " Barrett looked at the two men. He could see they were unconvinced. "I'm all right, fellas --- really!" Sy nodded to Reverend Smoot. The coffin was completely low-ered. The befuddled priest continued. "And I shall dwell in the House of the Lord forever." Then as if it were a prearranged situation or a prepared script, as soon as the service was over, the wind lessened and the sun scam-pered out from behind the clouds. As the mourners slowly filed out of the cemetery, they once again extended their deepest sympathies to Barrett. No one seemed to know what to say other than 'I'm sorry'. Barrett thought condolences were meaningless and only a way for someone to make themselves feel better. And like every other area of society, he would never accept it at face value. "Oh, Barrett." Sara Sharkey suddenly emerged. Ralph was by her side. "You don't need me blubbering like this." Ralph just nodded. "I simply can't believe it. It was so --- so sudden." "Yes, Sara. Very sudden." Barrett's eyes were on the Richardsons as they walked to their car. Lysle turned toward his friend and Bar-rett waved. "It's so hard for all of us." Sara continued. "Especially for you." "Yes, Sara. Especially me." Barrett now saw the Stevens' out of the corner of his eye. They still stood in the same spot, their gaze still on their daughter's grave. As the Sharkeys turned to leave, Ralph put his hand on Barrett's shoulder. "Listen. I know a guy that wants to buy your house. I as-sume that --- " "Ralph!" snapped Sara. "This is not the time nor the place." She put her handkerchief back in her purse. "I'm sure Barrett isn't ready for a decision like that yet." "Look, Sara! I just thought --- " "Ralph, let's go!" She roughly pushed her husband toward the car. "He probably wants some time alone --- with Janet." "Yes, Sara. I would like some time alone with Janet." Barrett put his hands back in his coat pockets. As Sara dragged Ralph away and out of the Mt. Zion grounds, Barrett again turned his attention to Janet's parents. Even though they had shown only contempt for each other over the years, he nonetheless felt sorry for them at what was obviously a most diffi-cult moment. But to go over to them now would, in Barrett's mind, be hypo-critical and a selfish attempt to alleviate some of his own personal guilt. Suddenly Jack Stevens looked up, took off his sunglasses, and turned toward Barrett. Their eyes locked for several seconds. Ellie kept her focus on the grave as the last shovels of dirt were tossed in. Then Jack put his arm around his wife's shoulders. They exchanged a brief somber glance and left. Barrett doubted if he would ever see either of them again. Now with everyone gone, including the two young gravediggers, Barrett Jessop was in fact alone with Janet. He thought of their life together: when they first met at the Stu-dent Union, when they'd gotten married, when they made love --- so many times in the beginning when all they ever wanted was to be with each other. When did it end? He couldn't recall. This was your fault, Janet! I tried --- remember? He looked at the scattered flowers. He looked up at the sky. He looked at the many maple trees. He looked at the green grass. He looked everywhere except at Janet's fresh grave. Feeling a sudden chill, Barrett again put up his coat collar. He walked toward the car and stopped abruptly. What would everyone say, he wondered, if they knew the truth? She didn't just die. I killed her! What do you think about that, Mint? The thought of it was too mindboggling! Barrett looked at his new watch. It was 11:35. It was time to leave. The funeral was over and Barrett felt he had survived it reasona-bly well --- considering. He was convinced that the strange sounds were a manifestation of a bad case of nerves and any physical or emotional pain was psy-chosomatic and an integral part of his readjustment period. It was all a temporary situation. It would soon end. Sy Marcus had written DEATH BY NATURAL CAUSES on the death certificate and as far as Barrett was concerned the case was closed. And now he would be free to be with Jodi. Wasn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what this is all about? Did the end not justify the means? Barrett was shivering and at the same time he was soaked with sweat. He knew he had to leave this cemetery --- now! He ran to his car and without a single backward glance, he sped away. As he drove home, he began to visualize the phone calls and the visits that would occur over this long, tedious and draining week-end. During that time he would be the brooding husband that eve-ryone expected. Then come Monday, his new life would begin! * XVIII Just as Barrett had predicted, during the entire weekend, a steady stream of visitors arrived to pay their respects, coming and going at all hours. And they were --- 'so sorry!' They also made certain that Barrett had plenty of food. Nellie Minton brought two large bowls of chopped liver which Barrett tossed into the garbage as soon as she left. Others brought over all sort of cold cuts, whole chickens, briskets, and tubs of fresh fruit, cole slaw, and potato salad. The Jessop refrigerator had not seen this much food in years! At 10:30 pm Sunday night, the Richardsons left, and that was the end of the mourners. And as far as Barrett was concerned, that was the end of his period of bereavement. At 10:40 Barrett dialed Jodi Bartless' number. This time there was trouble on the line, but they would take care of it at once. Bar-rett was too tired to go to her apartment. He would call first thing Monday morning. Tonight he would sleep in the spare room again. He would strug-gle with the discomfort and the inconvenience because he knew it was only temporary. The door to the master bedroom was still closed and Barrett could see no reason for opening it. He was sure this feeling was also temporary. He knew he would have to sell the house eventually. Thanks but no thanks, Ralph Sharkey! He also knew he would have to go through and sort out all of Janet's things. Sara and Ronnie would help. But he wasn't ready for either of those two activities yet. Right now he had to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a devastating day for him! On Monday morning at 9:00 am sharp Barrett Jessop, his hand trembling, dialed the number for the Methodist Church Library. "Hello." a young female voice answered. "Hello. May I speak to Jodi Bartless please." The optometrist could hear his heart almost drown out the tiny voice at the other end. "Well, this is my first day here and I don't really know everyone --- who did you ask for?" "Jodi Bartless." Barrett sat down. His chest hurt him. "I don't think I know her. But the regular staff --- you see, I'm only a part timer --- the regular staff is --- can you hold for a sec-ond? I have another call."
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