The Book of Dan (working title) Part 2

After the dark, dank parlor the sunshine of the afternoon hit him like a punch in the face. It felt good actually. A good punch in the face was just what he needed. He smiled even as his head spun and his eyes burned. Not a kind-of-smile, but the real thing. It was a nice reminder that he himself wasn't the one who died. Feeling very alive, Dan suddenly remembered the joints he had in his pocket. He knew today would be a trial, and he had come prepared.

With the fluid movements of an experienced smoker, he had one in his mouth and his lighter in hand, at the ready. He was about to light up without a moment's hesitation, when he remembered to take a look around first for unwanted observers. From the front porch of the funeral home he had a good vantage point of the length of the block he was on. The coast was clear.

"Did you bring enough for the whole class, Danny?" A female voice from just behind him caused Dan to jump and nearly lose the lighter and the joint.

"Leah. Jesus, you scared the crap out of me." Dan was breathing heavily, but laughing despite himself.

"Sorry, didn't mean to." She smiled and reached up to push some tousled hair out oh his eyes.

"It's been a long time. How are you?"

"I'm good. Busy, but good. You?"

The two took a long minute to size each other up. Leah had grown up. She was no longer his sister's annoying little friend. She was a woman from head to toe. He couldn't help but notice how she filled out her black dress. When she began to chuckle, it occurred to him that he should have better hidden his appreciation for the dress and it's contents.

"...um...what are you doing out here? You should be inside." He said staring at the floor, unable to look at her for the moment.

"Please, I couldn't take it in there. And you made such a show of your exit, I couldn't help but follow. I've never understood why death makes everyone into morons."

"Not that I'm disagreeing with you, but what do you mean by that?"

"Well, you know. Suddenly, even the biggest asshole gets this flowery speech as though he were a Saint who shat rainbows and cured cancer with his tears, you know?" She eyed his joint for a moment, hoping to drop a hint. He clearly wasn't getting it. "So, are you going to share that thing or not?"

Dan answered by lighting up, taking a monstrous pull, and passing it to her. On his exhale he finally added "Yeah. I know what you mean."

They puffed and passed in silence for a few minutes until the joint was unusable without a clip.

"I mean, Jenn was my best friend, I loved her more than I've ever loved anyone in my life, but she was... kind of a bitch." They laughed together on that. "She was stubborn, and rude, and she would use 'being honest' as an excuse to make you feel two inches tall."

They sat on the porch steps. A second joint was lit and passed.

"And she refused to take care of herself." Dan muttered.

"What?" Leah didn't seem to understand.

"I did tons and tons of research on stuff about how much good, solid nutrition can help you to get through the chemo and the radiation and all that."

"...yeah, and...?"

"And? What do you mean 'and?' She did nothing to help herself. Her diet was a six pack of Coke and frozen crap, right to the end. She just laid back and continued to abuse herself and continued to be surprised each and every time a new test told her she wasn't getting better."

After a moment "Hmm." Was all she said.

"Hmm? What is that? Hmm?"

"I just can't help thinking how narcissistic that you sound to me."

"Narci- What do you mean? I wanted to help her, and-"

"And she wouldn't let you. Right?"

"Well, yeah."

"It was her life." She stated this with an air of matter-of-fact finality that suggested to Dan that he should know what it meant. He did not, and his face showed it.

"And?" he asked. Not only did he not know what she meant, he was getting irritated enough to want to go back inside. He stood up and began to pace.

"And you're seeing her life through your eyes."

"Who the hell else's should I use?"

"Don't be so literal, you horse's ass. I mean you're evaluating her choices about her life with your values, but clearly she didn't share those values."

"Clearly." He was really getting angry now.

"And what's wrong with that? What's so horrifying to us that someone makes choices we wouldn't have made?"

"She could be here right now, sharing this joint with us." This he said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, and maybe she could have died in a terrible car accident too. She could have done a lot of things. But she didn't. She made her choice, and apparently that last can of Coke was worth it for her." She waited a moment. "Dan, I want you to listen to me now, okay?"

"Fine. What?!" This he nearly shouted, and he refused to look at her.

"Come here, and sit down." No response. "Come over here and sit your ass down." Slowly Dan made his way back over to her and lowered himself onto the steps.

"That's not your fault." Leah said quietly.

"What? Of course I know that--"

"No. No, you don't. Just shut up. That's not your fault." She paused.

"Goddamn it. She was twenty-seven. Twenty-seven." Dan's face lit up with rage, and then crumpled. He was about to finally give over to it all, finally give in and cry. But he bit it back at the last second. After a beat. "I don't know if it's you or the weed, but the angry seems to have gone back to whatever dark hole it crawled out of."

"See, this is what I'm talking about. She was definitely no saint. She's left you feeling responsible for her..." The next word got caught in her throat. They met eyes for a second, and then looked away. Nobody needed to finish the sentence.

"She didn't make me feel this way. It's not her fault I'm a moron." Dan laughed a little at himself, and Leah joined him. They laughed a good long while, and then they sat and continued to smoke in silence for a while.

Eventually Leah broke the spell. "Have you ever wondered why we do that?"

"Do what?"

"What they're doing in there. The whole revisionist history thing. You know when somebody dies we gloss over the ugly bits and say that they were all just peachy keen and perfect and pretend like there weren't moments that we wanted to strangle them."

"No. I've never wondered that." He took a long pull from the joint and stared off a million miles away. "But since you asked, maybe in the act of letting the person go we find it easier to let go of everything. Let it all go. Every stupid fight, every back-handed compliment, every scrap of stubborn bullshit. Maybe we let all that garbage die with them, so that what lives on is the good stuff that we hang on to."

"Wow. This must be some good shit, because you turned into Buddha himself there."

Just as Dan was finishing the second joint the front door opened over his shoulder and handfuls of funeral guests began to trickle out. The two giggled like children as he laughed out cloudfuls of pungent smoke and stamped out the last of it with his dress shoe.

As they walked through the front door, Dan was suddenly struck with an idea, and he called for attention from all of the milling and exiting guests.

"I know we're going to lose a lot of the older crowd now, but those of you that knew my sister well, know that she liked a good, stiff drink, and I think we could all use one right now. Any of you who would like to join me for Jenn's favorite, Jack Daniel's, is more than welcome to join us at Papago Brewing. I'm buying."

...more to come.