Love & Friendship

“Another young man was killed on our roads last night when the car he was travelling in veered out of control and struck a tree. Police said he was 17.”

The news story was repeated far and wide on television and radio broadcasts and nationally syndicated newspapers. The grief was especially palpable within our small community, where the boy had lived all of his short life.

A quiet throng of mourners laid flowers at the tree where the accident had occurred. Girls I had known from school, were crying, being supported by their parents. My friends were there too. I couldn’t face it though so I stayed home. I would meet them later at the wake for sure.

The wake-room was filled with solemn mourners, offering muttered condolences amid quiet sobs of pain and loss. The lights were dimmed, candles burned in the corners reflecting beautifully off the brass handles of the coffin, casting long shadows on the walls.

A vase of marigolds stood vigil in the corner. The bereaved mother had picked them that morning to help brighten the room a little. The cloying scent pervaded the room and if anything, made it an even more uncomfortable place to be.

The casket lay on the deceased's bed. A picture of the boy, in life, stood on a table beside a large crucifix. The room's small window was thrown open to let some cool air in to help dissipate the oppressive heat of the evening.

Patch, the boy’s loyal dog, could be heard keening outside. The sound, eerie and heart-wrenching echoed throughout the wake-room. This more than the sobs of the boy's family brought many a mourner to tears.

Inconsolable at the loss of his master, the poor animal spent the day whimpering and digging up the flowerbeds until barely a single marigold flower was left standing. I have to admit, that sound damn near broke me!

I had, of course, seen similar scenes many times before, but every death had been expected. Obscure uncles and aunts, I barely knew, every face now long forgotten. This time it was different though. I had known this boy all of my life and although often I hated him and felt deeply disappointed in who he had become, grief consumed me. Death is a different beast when it takes someone you know.

The mourners seemed to sense this. Although many looked in my direction, few came too close. Maybe they thought genuine grief was contagious.

They were the usual suspects, family, and friends who knew the deceased well. Of course, there were also neighbours and extended family who never really knew or cared for the boy, but thought they’d better make an appearance today.

Jimmy, Frankie, and I, friends from childhood, were dressed in identical navy blue suits, a sign of our everlasting bond. When they entered the room, they had drawn pitying looks and fresh wails could be heard coming from the deceased boys' family.

Jimmy, red-faced with hair askew, continually pulled at his collar. Frankie’s hands shook nervously and his cheeks were still wet with tears. Jimmy gave me a bear hug, which shocked many an onlooker but touched me. Frankie sobbed again,

“I’m sorry Tommy, I’m so sorry,” he patted my shoulder and then looked away. “It was all my fault.”

I ignored him. It was his fault, all right!

My mother had done my hair for the wake that day, and even now she was fussing all around me. I felt like I was ten years old again at my uncle’s funeral. I was grateful though, she always knew how to comfort me.

She told me she loved me as she kissed my cheek, and even my dad squeezed my hand. I felt a wave of love and pity for them both, but I didn’t want to show it. I felt a little embarrassed to tell you the truth. I just hoped my friends didn’t see.

By now the crowd had thinned, all having paid their last respects. One by one everyone left until it was just us boys supporting each other. It’s fair to say we were all damaged and none of us would ever truly recover.

First Jimmy, and then Frankie said their last goodbyes and left, but I lingered on in the candlelight alone. When the last flames flickered and died and I was finally plunged into darkness, my last remaining thoughts whispered through my mind and faded:

"Goodbye Jimmy and Frankie, your friendship I’ll treasure. Goodbye, mum and dad. I will love you both forever".