We got settled to one side of the casket. Atop it were yellow roses—my mother’s favorite.
I wrapped my arms around myself and hung my head. It was hard to breathe. The stifling air around me wasn’t doing me any favours either. It pushed into my lungs as seconds morphed into minutes then into dim pulse of the silent past.
My mother was barely in her sixties—how could she be gone?
The pastor prattled on and on about coming from dust and going back there. He tossed some dirt atop the coffin while mumbling about ashes and dust. When he finished, he walked over to shake my hand, offer his condolences then left us standing there. As the lone worker cranked the wench to lower the coffin into the grave, I stepped forward to lay my flower on the top of the others and Kujo and Maia gave me a moment alone with her.
Time ticked by.
The breeze drifted through the leaves on the tree sending them swirling around to the ground.
“I got her!” The urgency in Maia’s voice was palpable.
Before I could react, Maia gripped my arm, pulled me into her chest and spun. Something smashed into the tree beside me, but it wasn’t until Maia’s gun roared in response did I even realize someone was shooting at us.
“This is a funeral!” I shrieked. “The actual fuck is wrong with people?”
A bullet flew over my head and Maia pushed me toward her black jeep.
“Kujo!” I called.
“I’m okay!” He replied over the bullets. “Go with Maia.”
I tripped over an outcropped root but caught myself on a nearby angel. Soon, I was herded away and to the jeep.
Maia handled her gun like a pro, protecting me. I dove into the back of the vehicle and slammed the door closed behind me.
“Get in the back!” I screamed, climbing between the seats and starting the engine. When I looked around to her, and saw Maia in, I shoved the car into drive and climbed the curb.
“Where are you going?” Maia asked.
“Kujo!” I replied. “We can’t leave him here.”
The jeep rattled over cobblestones, tree roots and knocked over a tombstone.
“Sorry!” I squealed but didn’t stop to fix it. I pulled the jeep between Kujo and the shooters, keeping my head down. “Kujo! Get in!”
Once he was in, I sped off toward the road once more, rattling over uneven ground. I drove across the sidewalk narrowly missing a lady who screamed and gave me the finger. “Sorry!” I hollered just as the jeep bounced off the edge so fast, the front made a god-awful sound against the asphalt.
I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I had to pull over as my hands were shaking. My eyes blurred with tears.
“Shit.” I muttered and shoved out of the jeep. “My mother’s funeral! Is nothing sacred!”
“Ellie.” Kujo caught my shoulders. “Get in the car.”
“It’s hard to breathe.” I told him.
“I know, sweetie.” Kujo rubbed his palms up and down my arms. “But we have to go just in case we’re being followed.”
When I climbed into the back, Maia checked my eyes, pulse and skin. I figured she was trying to see if I was about to pass out or something to that effect. We drove back to the ranch and I flopped into the sofa.
“Drink this.”
I looked up to see Maia was pressing a crystal glass into my hand. Without bothering to check what it was, I knocked it back and instantly regretted it. The liquid burned a trail down my throat to warm my belly. “What’s this?”
“Scotch.” Maia tipped her head back and drained hers. “It’s not everyday you have to bury your mother then have the funeral turn into a shootout.”
I managed another sip. She had a point. “Where’s Kujo?”
