Of course.
Jon: Fine. Tomorrow.
It wasn’t the first time we treated a minor inconvenience like a catastrophic event. Rain threatened the comic book convention, and we dropped everything to make it a success. Chris called us together to sell tickets for a middle school play.Now that I thought about it, we only put out the signal on the most ridiculous things, and I couldn’t help but smile. Next, we’d spend the night making cupcakes to save the bakery.
Reaching into my sketchbook, I tore out my sketch of Rita. I left it on the table as I slid the pad of paper into my backpack. I was rather proud of my work, and seeing her blowing the hair from her face filled an almost-empty creative well.
“Radical love,” I whispered. Not as exotic as Mimi’s, but I could feel the start of an adventure. I had no idea where it’d take me, and the not knowing made it thrilling. “Thanks, Mimi.”
Firefly Cemetery could have fit in a football field with fifty yards to spare. One dirt lane went in one side, traveled along the back before connecting with the road and exiting. I turned off the car, sitting in the shade of a massive oak tree. Clicking noises from the engine filled the interior until I realized I blinked in time.
“It’ll be okay,” I whispered.
I pushed the door open to the sound of insects. Mosquitoes. The tiny bloodsuckers kept their distance, waiting for me to get out before they descended. I’d take the tiny bloodsuckers over Maine’s notorious black flies. At least the buzzing vampires wouldn’t tear flesh.
As I walked down the row, I studied the outlines of headstones. Some stood no higher than my knee, rangingfrom dark onyx to white marble. Every now and then, a marker reached my chest, often topped with a leaning cross. Off in the distance, I could see a man with a weed whacker trimming around stones. He threw a hand in the air, waving. I returned the gesture before taking a sharp left turn.
The last time I visited was at the funeral. I knew Mimi had been buried here. If the Valkyrie hadn’t claimed her, I imagined she still wandered the streets of Firefly. I grinned at the thought of her haunting Gladys by opening and closing the armoire doors. She wouldn’t go without making herself known.
I stopped in front of one of the oldest stones in the cemetery. It had been a family plot and listed six names. Not living here, the surname didn’t strike a chord. It left me wondering what life had been like when they first formed Hendersonville. Being in the northern frontier, had it been a struggle? Or had they been excited to escape the world?
“Braver than me,” I mumbled.
Continuing my stroll, I admired the flowers, real and fake, perched in front of headstones. I had a complicated relationship with death, but I took heart in seeing the people of Firefly paying their respects. I slowed my approach as I spotted my destination. The ground was still more brown than green as tiny blades of grass sprouted upward.
With a deep sigh, I pushed forward. As I spotted the chiseled Hazel M. Olsen, I got down on my knees. I pulled at the grass around the stone, tidying up the area. I did thesame to the stones on the left. When they were clear, I sat back, crossing my legs.
“Hey, everybody.”
Linda Olsen. Eric Olsen. Hazel Olsen. Henry Olsen. Mom. Dad. Mimi. Puppa. Once upon a time, I’d sit here and let the emotions fester. When my parents passed, I blamed myself, them, anybody. It didn’t matter. My therapist had suggested I make the trek to have an honest conversation with them. At first, I felt foolish talking to chunks of rock and empty space. Now, I liked to believe they could hear, even if they couldn’t respond.
“I hope everybody is doing well.” It always started awkwardly. “Mimi made me set a boat on fire. The Wrights were there.” I ran my hands through the grass, enjoying the lush feeling against my palms. “Nobody went to jail. So there’s that.”
If there were a Heaven, would they already know what happened in my life? Every time I stopped to think about the big questions, I shied away. My therapist liked to remind me this was just as much for me. “I met a boy. Well… I didn’t so much as meet him as re-meet him.” My cheeks went red thinking of my family being well aware of how we first got reacquainted.
“Mimi, you probably know Tyler Bailey. He runs the library.”
Of course, she knew him. Everybody in Firefly knew one another. I’m sure they had everybody’s birthday on the calendar and phone numbers memorized. The smallness of Firefly made me uncomfortable. They were good people,great even, but the thought of them knowing every detail about my life didn’t sit well with me. By now, there was probably a town-wide betting pool on my love life.
“The summer leading into my senior year, I met him in early August. We hung out a couple of times. I developed a crush on him. I know, Mom, you’re probably up there praying Jason and I get together, but ew. No. He’s seeing somebody, and they’re happy together.”
Did Mimi know about Jason and Simon? What had she thought about it when Lucy first showed up? I wouldn’t be shocked if Mimi reminded Jason I was still single. She’d be the perfect wingwoman till the bitter end.
“At the carnival, I found him, and we talked all day. He was such a nerd.” I chuckled at the memory. We couldn’t have been more different. Tyler cared about school, and I just wanted to pass and get out. “We kissed.”
Before that moment, I had been confused or maybe scared to admit what I already knew. With a single bad kiss, the questions vanished. Before we finished our first, I knew it wouldn’t be our last. It only took a couple of decades to be proven right.
“Dad, remember when you said, ‘Jonny, something about you changed?’ You hadn’t been wrong. I wasn’t ready to say it out loud, but after that kiss, I knew I was gay. Things just clicked.” I looked down at the leg of my jeans where a ladybug had taken refuge.
“I wish I had told you.” The words left my chest tight.
I hung on to that regret. As my anger at the universe tempered, I was left with sadness that they never got to seeme happy. The first time I visited the cemetery, I drove straight to Mimi’s house and came out of the closet. I cried as she held me, assuring me that my parents had always been proud. She helped me draft the letter to send Evie.
“I've been drawing again, Mom." I wiped away the tears. "I’m happy. I have a job I don’t hate. Mom, you’d love my apartment. It overlooks the bay. Things are going well in life.” I forced a smile. “Evie and I are talking again.”
“That’d make Hazel a happy woman.”
I tried spinning about but caught my foot, rolling onto my side, then back. Staring up, I could see the dark silhouette of a man in a big floppy hat. If it had been anywhere but Firefly, I’d think him a killer the way he wielded the weed whacker.
