Page 318 of Devil’s Disciples

With a tear rolling down my cheek, I walked toward the grave site. Abby made me promise not to wipe it away, saying that for once, that she was going to embarrass me. She was sure that my five brothers would see me as a pussy if I cried.

I had news for her. The five of them were crying, too.

She’d left specific instructions for her burial, which included thirty minutes for us to celebrate her life without interruption of the others who she expected might be in attendance. Her casket was to arrive before the funeral procession, and the hearse was to come later, with the masses who were certain to attend the funeral.

She left further instructions for Baker and Andy. As I dragged my feet through the lush green grass, I grinned at what she’d said.

I want Baker and Andy to lead the way in Eleanor, with the empty hearse behind them. I want Andy driving. You can look at the car, and for a minute, as it approaches, squint and think it’s me behind the wheel, and you in the passenger seat.

You never let me drive it, Porter.

She’d left further instructions regarding her burial service, stating she wanted it open to anyone who cared to attend. She left letters with her attorney for the news media, and for all the charities that she’d donated money to over the years, advising them of her wishes.

The local news was expecting nothing short of a zoo, but none of us knew what to expect, really. I did know that they had police on the edges of the highway exits when we arrived.

I stood at the gravesite, numb. Abby rested in the casket in front of me, dressed in her favorite dress, and her Converse, just as she’d asked.

I thought of the time we’d spent together. I suspected everyone else was praying. Despite Abby’s prediction of sending me a sign, I had yet to see anything. Further proof, in my eyes, that the world took from all of us, and there was no God to protect us from it.

After our thirty minutes of silence passed, I heard Eleanor in the distance.

I glanced to my right.

As instructed, Eleanor led the way, with the empty hearse close behind. Andy did remind me of Abby, and that memory caused me to smile.

After the hearse cleared the hill, cars emerged. One after the other. Two CHP officers on motorcycles zoomed past. Then, two more. It continued until ten had passed. They directed traffic for hours.

In fact, when the graveside service started, there was a sea of people covering the hillside, and standing in the road, for as far as the eyes could see. There wasn’t an inch of ground that wasn’t occupied by a person, all coming to pay their respects to Uptown Abby.

For that moment, my sorrow turned to pride.

I lifted my chin as the pastor cleared his throat. He then glanced at each of us.

“Abby Northrop wishes to thank all of those in attendance.” He peered at the bible he held, raised his head, and continued. “Abby was born on the tenth of November nineteen eighty-seven, in Bridgeport, Connecticut. She moved to San Diego at the age of eighteen to attend college, and soon fell in love with the magic the Pacific Ocean provided her.”

“She also fell in love with the people she encountered.”

“She lived her life a lover and loved with all her heart. People recognized her love, and they loved her in return.”

He waved his hands toward the sea of people who had gathered. “These people stand as proof of that love.”

He glanced at the bible, and then looked up. “God gave Abby a gift. She touched all of those she spoke to, and she spoke to many. She took a portion of what was provided to her, and gave the rest, never once allowing a moment to pass that she wasn’t grateful for the gifts God bestowed upon her.”

‘She was a woman of faith. By and through that faith, she was further blessed with many friends, a blessed family, various acquaintances, and one true love, Porter Reeves.”

“She did, however, love many.”

“Her family asks that in lieu of flowers, donations be provided to cancer research.”

“Let us take a moment to pray.”

Everyone lowered their heads. After a moment, the pastor raised his head and cleared his throat. One corner of his mouth curled upward.

“She wants you all to realize something.” He raised his right hand high in the air and flashed the peace sign. “It’s not that bad.”

Another tear rolled down my cheek, but I didn’t dare wipe it.

I love you, Abby.