Public Secrets Part 65

saying. And didn't want to. She preferred listening to the humming

gra.s.s and the monotonous lowing of the cattle on the hill beyond the

gravesite.

Darren was to have his farm at last, in Ireland, though he would never

ride a tractor or chase the lazy spotted cows.

It was a lovely place, with the gra.s.s so green it looked like a

painting. She would remember the emerald gra.s.s and the fresh, vital

scent of earth newly turned. She would remember the feel of the air

against her face, air so moist from the sea it might have been tears.

There was a church nearby, a small stone structure with a white steeple

and little windows of stained gla.s.s. They had gone inside to pray

before the little glossy casket had been carried out. Inside it had

smelled strongly, and too sweetly, of flowers and incense. Candles had

been burning even though the sun ran through the stained gla.s.s in

colorful streams.

There had been painted statues of people in robes, and one of a man

bleeding on a cross. Brian had told her it was Jesus who was looking

after Darren in heaven. Emma didn't think anyone who looked so sad and

tired could take care of Darren and make him laugh.

Bev had said nothing at all, only stood, her face pale as gla.s.s. Stevie

had played the guitar ajain, as he had at the wedding, but this time he

was dressed in black and the tune was sad and quiet.

Emma didn't like it inside the church, and was glad when they stood

outside in the sunlight. Johnno and P.M., whose eyes had been red from

weeping, had carried the casket, along with four other men who were

supposed to be her ceiusins. She wondered why it had taken so many to

carry Darren, who hadn't been heavy at all. But she was afraid to ask.

It helped to look at the cows, and the tall gra.s.s and the birds that

glided overhead.

Darren would have liked his farm, she thought. But it didn't seem

right, it didn't seem fair that he couldn't be standing beside her,

ready to race and run and laugh.

He shouldn't be in that box, she thought. He shouldn't be an angel,

even if it meant he had wings and music. If she had been strong and

brave, if she had kept her promise, he wouldn't be. She should be in

the box, she realized as tears began to fall. She had let bad things

happen to Darren. She hadn't saved him from the monsters.

Johnno picked her up when she began to cry. He swayed a little, and the

movement was comforting. She laid her head on his shoulder and listened

to the words he spoke along with the priest.

""The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want ..." But she did want.

She wanted Darren. Blinking tears from her eyes, she tried to watch the

gra.s.s move with the wind. She heard her father's voice, thick with

grief.

... walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no

evil ..."

But there was evil, she wanted to shout. There was evil, and it had

killed Darren. Evil had no face.

She watched a bird swoop overhead, and followed its path. On the