Thanks to Nick, we have a medical transportation van able to fit Adam in the back as we take him and his mother to Delilah's eulogy. Squid and Daniel are riding in the back with Jaclynne as I ride in front with the driver.
I haven't seen or talked to Jaclynne after the talent show. She's staring out of the window right now watching the snow topple down on us as we drive into the foothills.
"Mathew, Nineteen twenty-six," Adam says in his robotic voice.
"What's that?" I ask.
"He's been repeating it all day," Jaclynne says, "He's been obsessed with that line lately. I don't know why."
I want to talk to Jaclynne, but a stranger is driving us and I think she would want more privacy. So I decide to wait.
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There are hundreds of cars parked in front of the main building where their funeral is. It's cloudy outside, with big heavy snowflakes lightly falling onto the ground. Some people are gathered outside while others are heading in.
"Hey kid," Jaclynne says from behind me. I turn around and Adam wheels up from behind her, "Let's go talk."
I follow her around the resort and Adam is right beside me.
"How you holdin' up?" She asks.
"I—uh—I just got out of the hospital. You're supposed to be better when that happens. But I don't feel better."
"I'm sorry. I really am. You didn't deserve this."
"How are you?"
"I think the only thing that's holding me together is Adam. When I told him, it was like he already knew. He's been my rock."
I'm glad she had him while I was dealing with all of my chaos.
"Still, a mother should never have to lose her child before she dies," I say, "I'm sorry."
"Is that what it's going to be from now on? 'I'm sorry' this and 'My condolences' that? Is everyone going to shower us with their pity?"
"What else should they say?"
"Well, they shouldn't say sorry 'cause it's not their fault!" She stops and I'm standing before her now, "It's not your fault, Judas. You did your best. That's all she ever wanted."
"My best got her killed," I retort, "My best wasn't enough. And now everyone's calling me Their Savior and praising me for how strong I am when I feel like the biggest fraud of them all—when I feel like I'm at my weakest now more than ever. And they have the nerve to call me a hero."
"You are a hero, Judas," Adam responds, typing away at his keyboard, "You saved an abundant amount of life. You saved your friend Squid's life. You saved Stacy's life. Hell, from what I hear, you saved Delilah from herself. And we all know we are our own worst enemy."
"I saved her so what? She could die differently?" I spit back.
"No, Judas. So she could've lived differently. And she has. Have you seen how many people are here?"
"At least four thousand," I observe, "And more keep showing up."
"She's touched millions. And she'll continue to touch more. She'll live on forever. All thanks to you. You encouraged her to pursue her dream. And now she's doing the same for everyone else. You did that for her."
Tears are streaming down my face. I wipe them with my sleeve.
"I wish it was me instead of her. If I could've somehow taken her place I would have." I tell them, my back turned to them.
"I know," Jaclynne says, her voice trembling, "I know because I feel the same way."
"Likewise."
I laugh a little, moving my hair out of my eyes.
"Well... dying for her now won't do her any good," I tell them, "I think living for her will be much more valuable."
"I agree."
"Indeed."
"We should go find Squid and Daniel. Before we lose them," I say. They agree, and we start heading towards the main building.
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I'm shoulder to shoulder with everyone in the waiting area and they're all talking about Delilah. About her music. Her beauty. Her kindness. Everything amazing about her. It's great to know all these strangers love her. However, I still feel I've failed them. They wouldn't be here mourning this loss if it wasn't for my mistakes.
"Quite the amount of people here," Daniel comments, appearing next to me.
"More keep walking in too," I notice.
"These people want to be here, you know that right?"
"Yeah—they'd probably feel better if it was a concert though."
"We—we... we all want her to be here. With us. I'm sorry I didn't go with you into the school when Lucy was shooting it up. Delilah would probably still be here if I wasn't a pussy. I was just so scared and—"
I lay my hand on his left shoulder.
"You weren't a coward," I tell him, staring into his brown eyes, "You stayed on school grounds and kept the students that escaped calm and safe. You also warned the residents in the neighborhood. What I said—and did—was out of anger; a knee-jerk reaction. It's not your fault Delilah died, Daniel."
He sighs, putting his left hand on my right shoulder.
"I guess there's only one person to blame for this isn't there?" He asks. I know he's not talking about me, "I'm still surprised that you want to help Lucy after everything that she's done to you."
"It's not about wanting to. I need to do this. For Delilah."
"Still the best boyfriend in the universe even when she's passed," Daniel says, moving his left hand to the back of my head and bringing me in; our foreheads touching, "I'm really sorry this happened to you man."
"Make sure you make Stacy the happiest girl in the world for me, alright?"
"I will. For Delilah and you."
The doors to the auditorium open and people begin to pour in like water flowing down a river. We find our seats in the front and I have Squid sitting to my left while Adam is in the aisle to my right.
"Hey, I've been meaning to tell you something," Squid says, poking my shoulder.
"What's up?"
"Well, I got some good news."
"What kind of good news?"
"A few weeks ago I went back to the hospital to do some tests. And sure enough my endoscopy... there are still some polyps and lesions on my lymph nodes, but less than when we last checked. Which means I'm healing. Which means I'm not terminal. Which means... I'm gonna live. That was why I was at your house the day you were going to kill yourself. I was going to tell you my cancer was going away. But I decided to wait given the circumstances."
"Wait... you're not dying?"
"We're all dying, Judes. Each and every one of us. But right now—I don't have terminal lymphoma."
"Oh—oh my God—Squid!" I grab them with my arms, squeezing them tightly. They laugh as everyone watches with an ear-to-ear smile. I pull away, amazed.
"This is a miracle!" I exclaim, "I can't believe it. You're gonna live!"
"Like any other normal person, yeah," Squid interjects.
"This is crazy. Your cancer saved my life."
We both stare at each other; in complete bewilderment.
"I guess it did," Squid says, "Maybe there is a reason for everything."
Two screens on the left and right side of the stage turn on and begin to play a video. When the photage focuses, it shows Delilah with her guitar.
"Hi, I'm Delilah Lor and this is the song I want played at my funeral. It's 'Funeral', by Sarah Cothran."
The audio is playing through the entire theater as she adjusts herself and readys herself to play.
When she starts, she begins to strum her guitar, howling twice; like a ghost haunting us. Then she begins to sing the first words:
"I lay a rose
Light a couple candles
They wear black clothes
Everyone I used to know
And everthings changed
Everything's changed since you...
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I stand alone
By my double in the ground
I bow my head in silence
Commemorate the younger me
And everythings changed
Everything's changed since you..."
She transitions into the chours, switching her chords and singing in a higher pitch:
"Now and then I stand and watch
At my own funeral
I don't recognize myself anymore
Since I met you I'm not who I was before that
I don't know if that's good or bad..."
She eases into the second verse with ease, like butter:
"Mother says nice words
And my brother does as well
These picture frames all hold
Different versions, different worlds
Now the world's changed
Yes, the world's changed since you..."
The chorus plays, but she puts her heart, might, voice, and soul into all of it:
"And now and then I sand and watch
At my own funeral
I don't recognize myself anymore
Since I met you I'm not
Who I was before that
I don't know if that's good or bad
I don't wanna let her go
No, guess I'm gonna let her go..."
We're back at the chorus and the end of the song, with her soft angelic voice:
"Now and then I stand and watch
At my own funeral
I don't recognize myself anymore
Since I met you I'm not
Who I was before that
I don't know if that's good or bad..."
The crowd erupts into applause as a priest walks onto the stage and in front of a podium.
"Hello everyone, I'm pastor Ben," he says, "I'll be leading Delilah's eulogy today. Now this is quite the thing to see. It's so clear how many Delilah touched in her life with how packed this room is right now. Now, this isn't a time to talk about Delilah's death, but rather the opposite. Delilah touched millions in her life and will continue to touch more. Tim O'Brien, an American novelist who went to Vietnam wrote about his first experience with Death in his book 'The Things They Carried'. In it, the ghost of his dead girlfriend tells him 'Once you're dead, you never really die.' Every time you listen to her music. Every time you talk about her. Every time you read about her. Delilah is alive with you. She will never die.
God's weird that way. He promises things like eternal life. An end to the suffering. And he gives those things to us just not in the ways we wanted it. There is pain in this room. Delilah didn't need to die. No one should die this young. But God has a plan. God always prevails. God always is the way. And there's nobody who I think understands that more than her boyfriend Judas Korver."
My heart sinks into my chest. Everybody begins to talk amongst themselves and everyone around me is staring at me.
"Judas, can you come up here and say a few words about God?" Pastor Ben asks. Everyone is watching me now. I have no choice but to stand up and walk onto the stage.
Ben walks off stage as I take the podium. Everyone has their eyes on me now. Waiting for me to say something about God at my dead girlfriend's eulogy.
"Well...uh...I guess thank you, guys, for coming here," I start with, speaking into the microphone, the stage lights are beaming in my face, "Okay...just..." I turn to Ben and he's smiling. Smiling.
"You want me to just suck this up and do this for you?" I ask, staring into his eyes. The auditorium collectively gasps, "You have no idea what you're really asking. You have no idea what I've been through. I mean—okay," I turn to the crowd, "I believe in God. I love God so much. But honestly, it's just how goddamn certain people can be about their particular version of God sometimes. You all come here to listen to people like me and Ben to figure out how to get into Heaven. How do we know? How does anybody know? When The Bible was written, life expectancy was thirty years old. I'm not so sure you're supposed to take it literally. It also says it's a sin to eat lobster. What, if you're gay or trans or Ghandi you're going to Hell? I mean—And if you have sex before marriage that's—that's not immoral. That's human. What's immoral was the girl who shot me because she thought I was God.
Here's the truth. Anyone who tells you they know the answers is lying. And I know—I know—I'm supposed to be this hero—Savior—symbol—but I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I'm just as scared and confused as the rest of you. I'm done being a fraud. And I'm done taking any more shit. Thank you."
I storm off the stage and ignore the eyes glued on me as I leave the auditorium and exit the building.
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I find a lone bench to sit on that has some Elk grazing in the distance to watch. I can't believe the pastor tried to spin Delilah's funeral onto 'The Glory of God' bullshit. Part of me wanted to tackle him to the floor and beat him senseless with my cast arm. But I think Delilah would approve of what I did as the alternative.
Or maybe she wouldn't. I don't know; can't really ask her. Maybe she's not too fond of the path I'm going down.
God, things would be so much clearer if I could just talk to her.
There is one thing that hasn't changed though. One thing I know Delilah feels strongly about. Those last two words she said to me before she died; those seven letters. They ring in my head every time I think about that day.
"They're beautiful," Adam says, appearing to my left at the bench.
"Yeah, creatures of the mountain."
"Good speech BTW. A lot of people were recording it."
"Well, I'm glad they liked it."
We sit there for a moment, watching the herd inch its way through the field.
"There's something I'm struggling with," I tell him, "Something your sister wanted me to do before she died. I'm just not sure if I have the strength to do it."
"You do, Judas. Through God all things are possible."
That phrase. For some reason, that's what I needed to hear.
"Thank you, Adam. You've helped me immensely."
Then it's settled. Tomorrow I'm heading to Crimson Mountain Regional Prison.224Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwYBp9QxCZz
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