Page 39 of 4 Corinthians

“I would rather sit on the floor,” Krude told her. He finished putting on his belt, reclaimed his seat, and put on his seatbelt. “Alright, OG, I’m ready. Let’s go!”

***

The doorbell ringing woke me up. I pushed my way out of the closet where I’d fallen asleep and looked around the room. Everyone was in their beds, still asleep except for Psalms. She was sitting on her bed, her ladybug in her lap.

“You had an accident?” I whispered.

“No,” she answered, shaking her head. “I couldn’t sleep and was waiting for you. I thought you went to the bathroom.” She looked over at the closet door. “You had an accident?”

“No,” I told her. She didn’t know I slept in the closet with a nightlight, and I didn’t want her to know. She worried enough about me.

The doorbell rang again, and we looked towards the door. I looked at the clock on the dresser and saw it was two am. I walked towards the door and slowly opened it. Psalms and I snuck out of the room and walked down the hallway to see Madea and Granddaddy standing at the door with the police.

“What’s happening?” Exodus whispered, coming from the boys' room. I shrugged and pointed at the police. “What’s the police doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I answered as I continued to watch.

“We’re sorry to inform you that your children and their spouses were killed in an accident tonight,” the police told Madea and Granddaddy.

***

“I want you all to listen to me and listen good,” Madea said as the family car parked outside of the cemetery where our parents would be buried. “You don’t have to put on a show for nobody. I don’t care what they say to you, how they think you’re supposed to feel or respond to seeing your parents for the last time. This ain’t a funeral for them; it's for you to say your final goodbyes and know where you can always find them.” She brushed something off Judge’s shirt, then sat back. “The only person in this car who knows what you’re feeling is the people in this car. We've all lost our parents. I’m not going to lie to y’all and say the shit is easy because it’s not. Y’all lost yours young, younger than me and your granddaddy did. Exodus has been where y'all are. His mama's gravesite is right over there, too.”

“Madea?” Mercy said from her seat. She sat between Krude and Judge. “Do I have to go out there?”

“No,” she quickly answered. “We can sit right in this car for as long as you want.”

Mercy looked out the window at all the gravesites and then shook her head. “I think I want to go, but I don’t want to sit in the front. I want to be in the back, away from everybody.”

“Me too,” Krude said, nodding. “I don’t want to be up there.”

“Me either,” Judge agreed. “I want to be in the back with y’all.”

“We can do that,” Madea agreed. “Wherever y'all want.”

“What about you, Corinthians?” Granddaddy asked from beside Madea. “Where do you want to sit?”

“In the front,” I told him. He and Madea shared a look but didn’t say anything. “I want to say goodbye one last time.” Really, I wanted to make sure they were gone forever.

“Alright, I’ll sit in the front with Corinthians,” Granddaddy said. “Psalms?”

“I’m sitting with Cori,” Psalms answered.

“Alright, let us know when y’all are ready.” He sat back, arm on the back of the seat, and stared out of the window. For the last week, he and Madea had done everything in their power to make sure we were okay. Out of all their children, the only ones who survived were Cross’s parents, who had walked away from the wreck with barely a scratch on them.

I don’t know how long we sat in the car, but I knew it was a long time because people started looking around as if they were waiting for someone. Granddaddy said he couldn’t do the sermon for his own kids, so Pastor Kilmore agreed to do the eulogy. Pastor Kilmore's son was friends with our parents.

Finally, we got out of the car and took our seats. Madea sat in the back with Krude, Judge, Mercy, and Ex, and Granddaddy sat in the front with Psalms and me. The entire funeral, I stared at my parents' caskets, waiting for the moment that someone would tell us it was all a joke and they were alive.

I looked over at Granddaddy to see him staring ahead. When Pastor Kilmore finished his eulogy and their caskets were lowered, people came forward to speak, but I didn’t want to deal with anyone. Madea moved everyone to the back, and we stood holding hands until it was time to go.

Granddaddy stood outside the car talking to someone while we were getting situated. “I can’t find it!” Psalms said, looking around the car. She pushed Krude out of the way and looked under the seat. “I can’t find it!”

“Find what?” Madea asked her.

“My ladybug!” she answered, panicking. “I had it, I know I did, and I can't find it.” She looked up with tears in her eyes. Madea pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back. “I know I had it, Madea.”

“It’s okay, baby; we will find it.”