Chapter 32

There was a kid I used to know on the reserve that died years ago. His name was Juno. He had been hit by a drunk driver while riding his bike home from school.

I remember going to his funeral.

Normally, our tribe’s funerals were an outside, almost festive, event where a soul was reunited with the spirit world. I’d been to several of the elders’ funerals before; theirs’ was the celebration of transition.

The body of the deceased was placed on a special altar, decorated with the symbols of their life and times. After much song, dance and food, the altar and their body was lit ablaze, turning their body back to ashes, to become one with the earth again.

Juno’s funeral was not one of these.

My grandmother and I had to travel to a nearby town to attend Juno’s funeral. His parents had left the reservation years before and lived in the ‘modern’ world for a time. They insisted that Juno’s funeral be one of current trends, not a ‘hokey tribal celebration’ as they’d put it.

Entering the funeral parlor, I was immediately intimidated and uncomfortable. Hordes of people, all clothed in black, wept as they hugged one another and uttered their condolences.

An eerie hush lingered over the crowd as the service began; only whispers and the occasional sniffle could be heard. The minister spoke words of sorrow, forgiveness and Juno’s progression to a heavenly place.

We sang hymns from a booklet and his father read a final letter to his son. Then everyone was invited to approach the casket to say their good-byes.

All I could think about as I stood in the aisle, awaiting my own last moment with Juno, was that it was an open casket.

I had seen plenty of dead bodies before, but they were always older, much older. I’d never laid eyes upon a dead child before. Juno wasn’t a close friend of mine or anything, but I felt incredibly disturbed none the less.

As the person ahead of me approached Juno’s coffin, a sense of anxiety stirred within me.

I didn’t know if I could do this.

Before I knew it, it was my turn. I moved slowly toward the shiny black box. Taking a deep breath in, I summoned the courage from within and looked directly at Juno’s body.

He wasn’t exactly as I remembered him. He looked like he was sleeping, but appeared waxen and fake. Dressed in a black suit like he was one of the attendants of his own funeral, he was merely a shell. That’s what I saw, a shell, a remnant of someone who had once been, but was no longer. There was no glow, no flush of the cheeks, no…life. Just the vehicle that had once carried a vibrant soul.

That’s the day I was no longer afraid of dying. While I wasn’t fearful of death anymore, I had, however, become terribly afraid of coffins. Not the tight fit, so much, but the idea of being place into the ground, buried and left to rot under six feet of dirt.

Curled into the corner of the trunk, I fought fears and anxieties long forgotten. Pushing my irrational worries aside, I attempted to control my breathing and focus on the task at hand. Besides, having been kidnapped and held by unsympathetic government agents had recently taught me what real fear was about and I wasn’t going to ruin my chance to escape it.

Tucked into the belly of the trunk, I felt the car start. The low rumbling of the muffler beneath me rattled as I suddenly sensed the car moving forward.

I had no idea what to expect next.

Considering that Keanu had placed a fabric cover over me, I assumed that the guard might inspect the trunk, probably as a standard precaution.

Caressing my abdomen with my hand, I attempted to sooth myself as much as my tiny passenger.

We’ll get through this little one.

I hoped I wasn’t lying to her.