The funeral parlor was extremely crowded. Mrs. Krimble’s sister, Klisa, her husband, Norman, their 18-year-old son, Stan and 16-year-old daughter, Veronica, had flown in from Seattle to pay their respects. They sat in the front of the room with Mrs. Krimble and Wyatt, across from the closed coffin, as people lined up to offer their condolences. Willow decided not to sit in the front with her family, but chose to stand closer to the entrance, toward the rear of the room. She was upset enough without being, as Razzel had so eloquently put it, “a car at the end of a sob-train.”
“I’m running out of places to stand,” said Razzel as people brushed past her to get to Willow.
“Grams touched a lot of people,” replied Willow.
“Look who just walked in,” said Razzel.
Willow turned her attention to the entranceway and spotted Taren and Brent. Brent was the first to throw his arms around her.
“I’m so sorry, Willow,” he said. Taren followed his lead, her somber expression uncharacteristic of her usual exuberance.
“Thanks, guys,” said Willow. “By the way, Brent, congrats. I can’t believe you took second place in the talent show.”
“He was incredible,” Taren perked up. “He performed a routine that infused both tap and ballet. Kids at school are calling him ‘Lord Of The Prance.’”
“There’s a title to be proud of,” Razzel mumbled to Willow, turning away from Brent.
“On top of that, ” Taren continued, “Annabelle Spreeman asked him out on a date. Said she was very impressed by his ‘passion for dance.’”
“’S’that true?” asked Razzel, completely stunned. Annabelle Spreeman was no Shayla Stergus, but she was definitely one of the prettiest girls in Ginkelman.
“What can I say,” replied Brent, modestly, “the ladies love a guy in leotard and tap shoes.”
Willow and Razzel gave one another odd stares, neither of them knowing exactly how to respond.
“We’d better get out of the way,” said Taren to Brent. “We’ll catch up later. Let’s go see Mrs. Krimble.”
“Right,” Brent agreed. “If you need anything at all, Willow, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks for coming, guys.”
Taren and Brent made their way to the front to pay their respects to Mrs. Krimble and the rest of Willow’s family.
“Lord Of The Prance, huh?” Willow whispered to Razzel.
“Trust me, Will, I’ve seen a lot of horror movies in my day, but visions of Brent in that outfit …” Razzel shuddered, “… still gives me nightmares!”
Leave it to Razzel to make Willow want to chuckle even in the most distressing of times.
___________________________________
Page 80
As Willow shook her head at Razzel, she suddenly spotted a figure darting toward her. She could not raise her arms fast enough as Carlo Sprunco grabbed hold of her and squeezed. After a few painful seconds, he relinquished his embrace and grabbed Willow’s right hand.
“We joosta hadda espresso a few week ago, me and Nonna Treesh,” Mr. Sprunco sobbed. He patted Willow on her hand and walked away weeping into his palms.
As Willow watched Mr. Sprunco make his way to the front of the crowded room, Razzel received an emotional jolt as she spotted an unforeseen guest in the entranceway.
"What's she doing here?”
Willow turned around to find Shayla Stergus standing beneath the exit sign, resembling a lost child, looking for anyone she could recognize. She spotted Willow and Razzel and cautiously made her way toward them, bumping into no less than three people in the packed room.
She reached her destination, but before she could open her mouth …
"What are you doing here?" The volume in Razzel’s voice may have been low, but the tone of disgust was quite lucid.
"I ... came to pay my respects."
"Since when did you have any respect for anyone? For years, we've tried - "
"Raz!" Willow interrupted her best friend's potential rant. "It's okay. Just give us a minute."
Razzel surveyed Shayla with daggers.
"I'll be right over there if you need me," she said, walking away, never taking her eyes off Shayla.
As soon as Razzel was out of earshot, Shayla turned to Willow.
"Willow, I'm really sorry about your grandmother."
"Thanks, Shayla, I appreciate you coming. It means a lot." After an awkward moment of silence, "Look, about the other day, I - "
" - saved my life,” Shayla interrupted. “In more ways than you think."
Willow's eyes darted around the crowded room, making certain no one was eavesdropping. Everyone seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations, and no one was in line to speak with her at the moment.
Mindful of Willow's anxiety, Shayla lowered her voice to a whisper.
"I wanted you to know exactly what you did for me in that parking lot."
Willow said nothing; she merely raised her eyebrows, urging Shayla to continue.
"When I was lying there, on that cold concrete, all I could think was, ‘what a waste my life has been.’"
"Shayla, that’s crazy. Your life hasn't - "
"Yes, it has. For years I've tried to please the wrong people, craving attention from those who could care less about me, pushing away friends that were actually concerned for me, but I couldn't see it. Take my dad; he never made any time for me. He was always so busy with his career, preoccupied with money and power, and all I ever wanted from him was a father. He never paid me any mind unless it was to … " Shayla paused and directed her eyes toward the floor. "Well, of course you know the kind of attention he gave me."
___________________________________
Page 81
Willow said nothing. There were dozens of different conversations going on all around her, but at that moment, it was as if she and Shayla were the only ones in the room.
"My mother tried to protect me when she could," Shayla continued, "but that just fueled the monster and he … " Shayla looked up at Willow again. "Can you believe that I was actually considering going to live with that jerk?”
Willow looked surprised, but remained silent. She had heard through the school gossip-mill how Shayla’s parents had gotten divorced last year, but she didn’t know any of the details.
"He called me up and told me he missed me and wanted to make things up to me; ‘Make up for lost time.’ My mother’s been so busy with her career that I thought I might go to Orlando for a while to be with my so-called father. That big house my mother and I live in is always so empty; it’s just me and the housekeeper. Sure, Snella stops by (Willow almost cringed at the name), but she just likes to borrow my clothes and sit in my Jacuzzi. Her favorite topic of conversation is herself. That gets pretty boring after a while, so I was basically going to go to Florida to beg for my dad's attention.” She shook her head. “Pathetic."
Willow saw the somber look in Shayla's eyes and knew it was her turn to speak.
"You've got so much going for you, Shayla, can’t you see that? You don't need to impress anyone. If someone doesn't like you for you, they'll just have to miss out."
"That's just it, Willow. When I said you saved my life, I meant you saved me from … myself – Miss Popular with all the wrong people. If someone like you, who I turned my back on and treated like dirt for years, can still help me ... I’m done trying to get the wrong people's attention. I just hope you meant what you said."
Willow wasn’t certain what Shayla was referring to and looked at her inquisitively. Shayla decided to jog her memory.
"You said we could start over.”
Willow grinned.
"I always mean what I say, Shayla. You should know that."
Shayla looked relieved.
"I don't expect you to forget the way I treated you the past few years, but I just want the chance to make it up to you."
"You being here’s a pretty good start."
Shayla beamed.
"I just hope others can forgive me." Shayla looked over in Razzel's direction. She was standing 10 feet away, speaking to Taren and Brent.
"Don't worry about Raz," said Willow, "she'll come around. Just give her some time."
"I don't know if she'll ever forgive me, but I promise I'll do my best to - "
"Just be yourself, Shayla. Don't try to impress Razzel; she won't respect you if you're phony."
___________________________________
Page 82
"I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"You'll get there. We just need to find that little girl who used to have burping contests with us in my garage."
Shayla chuckled for a moment and then suddenly looked serious again. “There’s someone else who I hope will be as forgiving as you ... ”
Willow looked puzzled. With all of the students Shayla had alienated, she needed to be a bit more specific.
“Davis,” said Shayla.
"What do you mean?"
Shayla’s gaze shifted to the floor once again.
"He's great, but I haven't been very fair to him either. I … I only went out with him because … well, all of the other girls in school are attracted to him. He is, after all, the cutest guy in Ginkelman."
"He sure is," Willow was too quick to agree.
"He's probably also the sweetest," Shayla continued, "but the truth is, he just isn't my type."
"Not your type?" said Willow, shocked. She always saw Davis Sweeney as every girl's type: smart, funny, adorable and (above all else) not full of himself.
"I know, I know. I sound crazy, but there's just no spark there. Anyway, I'm way too young for a boyfriend; I think I'll just try being a kid for a while.”
“That sounds like a great idea … Shay.”
Shayla looked up once again and smiled. “Well, I've hogged you long enough."
Shayla could see a small line forming several feet away from her with people who, no doubt, were waiting to see Willow.
"I'll see you back at school, Willow. And don't worry about your, uh ... unique skill. If it's one thing I'm good at, it's keeping things inside."
"Thanks again for coming, Shayla," Willow leaned forward, threw her arms around Shayla and embraced her. At first, Shayla was limp. She then closed her eyes, slowly raised her arms, wrapped them around Willow and squeezed so hard, Willow almost let out a gasp. The two separated and did not say another word to one another.
Razzel noticed Shayla taking a seat and wiping her eyes, but made no move to approach her. She was about to rejoin Willow when a booming voice called out to everyone in the room:
"Attention, attention please, everyone,” Father Strauburn called out over the crowd. "If everyone would kindly take their seats, I would like to say a little prayer for our dearly departed sister."
Willow took her seat in the front row with her family as everyone behind her scrambled to grab a chair. Razzel, Brent and Taren were fortunate enough to grab three seats next to Razzel’s parents. Some people gave up the search and accepted their fate of having to stand in the back of the packed room.
"I can stand up here and go on and on about our departed sister Trisha," Father Strauburn began, "but, truth be told, I did not know her as well as some of you. Before we begin our prayers, I would like to invite any family member or friend to come up and share a few words about our beloved Trisha."
___________________________________
Page 83
The room seemed to fall silent. Mrs. Krimble was beside herself with tears as her sister, Klisa, did her best to console her, she herself being a weeping mess.
The room suddenly flooded with murmurs as Willow stood up and walked to the podium. Father Strauburn gave her a nod as he stepped aside. The whispers around the room grew louder. Willow heard someone mutter, "but she's just a kid. ”
Willow cleared her throat.
"Hello everyone, and thanks for coming." Everyone was now at full attention; even Mrs. Krimble took a break from her crying when she heard the sound of her daughter's voice.
“I know this day is hard on everyone," Willow continued. "Grams was certainly one-of-a-kind." Different faces scattered throughout the room nodded in agreement. "No one is sadder to see her go than me. Some people have grandparents that they see a few times a year - at holidays and birthdays. That wasn't the case with Grams. She tried to spend as much time with her family as possible. She wasn't just my grandmother; she was a dear friend, and what I will miss most about our friendship is her honesty. She told it like it was, whether you wanted to hear it or not."
Willow could see several people smile in agreement, and one woman in the back even snorted to stifle a chortle.
"It was her honesty that helped shape me to be, not only who I am, but who I hope to become."
Willow pulled out a folded piece of paper from her skirt pocket and unfolded it onto the podium.
"I had this assignment in English class this semester where I was supposed to write a poem about anything that was important to me. I know that I couldn’t have written this if Grandma Trisha wasn’t a huge part of my life, and I certainly wouldn’t have the courage to read it in front of all of you.” Willow cleared her throat once more. “This poem is titled: Alone With My Thoughts.”
___________________________________
Page 84
Silence flooded the room as Willow began to read from the folded printout before her:
“I’m running out of places to stand,” said Razzel as people brushed past her to get to Willow.
“Grams touched a lot of people,” replied Willow.
“Look who just walked in,” said Razzel.
Willow turned her attention to the entranceway and spotted Taren and Brent. Brent was the first to throw his arms around her.
“I’m so sorry, Willow,” he said. Taren followed his lead, her somber expression uncharacteristic of her usual exuberance.
“Thanks, guys,” said Willow. “By the way, Brent, congrats. I can’t believe you took second place in the talent show.”
“He was incredible,” Taren perked up. “He performed a routine that infused both tap and ballet. Kids at school are calling him ‘Lord Of The Prance.’”
“There’s a title to be proud of,” Razzel mumbled to Willow, turning away from Brent.
“On top of that, ” Taren continued, “Annabelle Spreeman asked him out on a date. Said she was very impressed by his ‘passion for dance.’”
“’S’that true?” asked Razzel, completely stunned. Annabelle Spreeman was no Shayla Stergus, but she was definitely one of the prettiest girls in Ginkelman.
“What can I say,” replied Brent, modestly, “the ladies love a guy in leotard and tap shoes.”
Willow and Razzel gave one another odd stares, neither of them knowing exactly how to respond.
“We’d better get out of the way,” said Taren to Brent. “We’ll catch up later. Let’s go see Mrs. Krimble.”
“Right,” Brent agreed. “If you need anything at all, Willow, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks for coming, guys.”
Taren and Brent made their way to the front to pay their respects to Mrs. Krimble and the rest of Willow’s family.
“Lord Of The Prance, huh?” Willow whispered to Razzel.
“Trust me, Will, I’ve seen a lot of horror movies in my day, but visions of Brent in that outfit …” Razzel shuddered, “… still gives me nightmares!”
Leave it to Razzel to make Willow want to chuckle even in the most distressing of times.
___________________________________
Page 80
As Willow shook her head at Razzel, she suddenly spotted a figure darting toward her. She could not raise her arms fast enough as Carlo Sprunco grabbed hold of her and squeezed. After a few painful seconds, he relinquished his embrace and grabbed Willow’s right hand.
“We joosta hadda espresso a few week ago, me and Nonna Treesh,” Mr. Sprunco sobbed. He patted Willow on her hand and walked away weeping into his palms.
As Willow watched Mr. Sprunco make his way to the front of the crowded room, Razzel received an emotional jolt as she spotted an unforeseen guest in the entranceway.
"What's she doing here?”
Willow turned around to find Shayla Stergus standing beneath the exit sign, resembling a lost child, looking for anyone she could recognize. She spotted Willow and Razzel and cautiously made her way toward them, bumping into no less than three people in the packed room.
She reached her destination, but before she could open her mouth …
"What are you doing here?" The volume in Razzel’s voice may have been low, but the tone of disgust was quite lucid.
"I ... came to pay my respects."
"Since when did you have any respect for anyone? For years, we've tried - "
"Raz!" Willow interrupted her best friend's potential rant. "It's okay. Just give us a minute."
Razzel surveyed Shayla with daggers.
"I'll be right over there if you need me," she said, walking away, never taking her eyes off Shayla.
As soon as Razzel was out of earshot, Shayla turned to Willow.
"Willow, I'm really sorry about your grandmother."
"Thanks, Shayla, I appreciate you coming. It means a lot." After an awkward moment of silence, "Look, about the other day, I - "
" - saved my life,” Shayla interrupted. “In more ways than you think."
Willow's eyes darted around the crowded room, making certain no one was eavesdropping. Everyone seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations, and no one was in line to speak with her at the moment.
Mindful of Willow's anxiety, Shayla lowered her voice to a whisper.
"I wanted you to know exactly what you did for me in that parking lot."
Willow said nothing; she merely raised her eyebrows, urging Shayla to continue.
"When I was lying there, on that cold concrete, all I could think was, ‘what a waste my life has been.’"
"Shayla, that’s crazy. Your life hasn't - "
"Yes, it has. For years I've tried to please the wrong people, craving attention from those who could care less about me, pushing away friends that were actually concerned for me, but I couldn't see it. Take my dad; he never made any time for me. He was always so busy with his career, preoccupied with money and power, and all I ever wanted from him was a father. He never paid me any mind unless it was to … " Shayla paused and directed her eyes toward the floor. "Well, of course you know the kind of attention he gave me."
___________________________________
Page 81
Willow said nothing. There were dozens of different conversations going on all around her, but at that moment, it was as if she and Shayla were the only ones in the room.
"My mother tried to protect me when she could," Shayla continued, "but that just fueled the monster and he … " Shayla looked up at Willow again. "Can you believe that I was actually considering going to live with that jerk?”
Willow looked surprised, but remained silent. She had heard through the school gossip-mill how Shayla’s parents had gotten divorced last year, but she didn’t know any of the details.
"He called me up and told me he missed me and wanted to make things up to me; ‘Make up for lost time.’ My mother’s been so busy with her career that I thought I might go to Orlando for a while to be with my so-called father. That big house my mother and I live in is always so empty; it’s just me and the housekeeper. Sure, Snella stops by (Willow almost cringed at the name), but she just likes to borrow my clothes and sit in my Jacuzzi. Her favorite topic of conversation is herself. That gets pretty boring after a while, so I was basically going to go to Florida to beg for my dad's attention.” She shook her head. “Pathetic."
Willow saw the somber look in Shayla's eyes and knew it was her turn to speak.
"You've got so much going for you, Shayla, can’t you see that? You don't need to impress anyone. If someone doesn't like you for you, they'll just have to miss out."
"That's just it, Willow. When I said you saved my life, I meant you saved me from … myself – Miss Popular with all the wrong people. If someone like you, who I turned my back on and treated like dirt for years, can still help me ... I’m done trying to get the wrong people's attention. I just hope you meant what you said."
Willow wasn’t certain what Shayla was referring to and looked at her inquisitively. Shayla decided to jog her memory.
"You said we could start over.”
Willow grinned.
"I always mean what I say, Shayla. You should know that."
Shayla looked relieved.
"I don't expect you to forget the way I treated you the past few years, but I just want the chance to make it up to you."
"You being here’s a pretty good start."
Shayla beamed.
"I just hope others can forgive me." Shayla looked over in Razzel's direction. She was standing 10 feet away, speaking to Taren and Brent.
"Don't worry about Raz," said Willow, "she'll come around. Just give her some time."
"I don't know if she'll ever forgive me, but I promise I'll do my best to - "
"Just be yourself, Shayla. Don't try to impress Razzel; she won't respect you if you're phony."
___________________________________
Page 82
"I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"You'll get there. We just need to find that little girl who used to have burping contests with us in my garage."
Shayla chuckled for a moment and then suddenly looked serious again. “There’s someone else who I hope will be as forgiving as you ... ”
Willow looked puzzled. With all of the students Shayla had alienated, she needed to be a bit more specific.
“Davis,” said Shayla.
"What do you mean?"
Shayla’s gaze shifted to the floor once again.
"He's great, but I haven't been very fair to him either. I … I only went out with him because … well, all of the other girls in school are attracted to him. He is, after all, the cutest guy in Ginkelman."
"He sure is," Willow was too quick to agree.
"He's probably also the sweetest," Shayla continued, "but the truth is, he just isn't my type."
"Not your type?" said Willow, shocked. She always saw Davis Sweeney as every girl's type: smart, funny, adorable and (above all else) not full of himself.
"I know, I know. I sound crazy, but there's just no spark there. Anyway, I'm way too young for a boyfriend; I think I'll just try being a kid for a while.”
“That sounds like a great idea … Shay.”
Shayla looked up once again and smiled. “Well, I've hogged you long enough."
Shayla could see a small line forming several feet away from her with people who, no doubt, were waiting to see Willow.
"I'll see you back at school, Willow. And don't worry about your, uh ... unique skill. If it's one thing I'm good at, it's keeping things inside."
"Thanks again for coming, Shayla," Willow leaned forward, threw her arms around Shayla and embraced her. At first, Shayla was limp. She then closed her eyes, slowly raised her arms, wrapped them around Willow and squeezed so hard, Willow almost let out a gasp. The two separated and did not say another word to one another.
Razzel noticed Shayla taking a seat and wiping her eyes, but made no move to approach her. She was about to rejoin Willow when a booming voice called out to everyone in the room:
"Attention, attention please, everyone,” Father Strauburn called out over the crowd. "If everyone would kindly take their seats, I would like to say a little prayer for our dearly departed sister."
Willow took her seat in the front row with her family as everyone behind her scrambled to grab a chair. Razzel, Brent and Taren were fortunate enough to grab three seats next to Razzel’s parents. Some people gave up the search and accepted their fate of having to stand in the back of the packed room.
"I can stand up here and go on and on about our departed sister Trisha," Father Strauburn began, "but, truth be told, I did not know her as well as some of you. Before we begin our prayers, I would like to invite any family member or friend to come up and share a few words about our beloved Trisha."
___________________________________
Page 83
The room seemed to fall silent. Mrs. Krimble was beside herself with tears as her sister, Klisa, did her best to console her, she herself being a weeping mess.
The room suddenly flooded with murmurs as Willow stood up and walked to the podium. Father Strauburn gave her a nod as he stepped aside. The whispers around the room grew louder. Willow heard someone mutter, "but she's just a kid. ”
Willow cleared her throat.
"Hello everyone, and thanks for coming." Everyone was now at full attention; even Mrs. Krimble took a break from her crying when she heard the sound of her daughter's voice.
“I know this day is hard on everyone," Willow continued. "Grams was certainly one-of-a-kind." Different faces scattered throughout the room nodded in agreement. "No one is sadder to see her go than me. Some people have grandparents that they see a few times a year - at holidays and birthdays. That wasn't the case with Grams. She tried to spend as much time with her family as possible. She wasn't just my grandmother; she was a dear friend, and what I will miss most about our friendship is her honesty. She told it like it was, whether you wanted to hear it or not."
Willow could see several people smile in agreement, and one woman in the back even snorted to stifle a chortle.
"It was her honesty that helped shape me to be, not only who I am, but who I hope to become."
Willow pulled out a folded piece of paper from her skirt pocket and unfolded it onto the podium.
"I had this assignment in English class this semester where I was supposed to write a poem about anything that was important to me. I know that I couldn’t have written this if Grandma Trisha wasn’t a huge part of my life, and I certainly wouldn’t have the courage to read it in front of all of you.” Willow cleared her throat once more. “This poem is titled: Alone With My Thoughts.”
___________________________________
Page 84
Silence flooded the room as Willow began to read from the folded printout before her:
The room was silent for a moment. Razzel had to sit on her hands to prevent herself from applauding, knowing it would be inappropriate. She was thrilled when Willow glanced her way so she could give her an approving nod.
Willow heard whispers break out again and the same voice moments earlier that referred to her as "just a kid" was now mumbling, "how old is she again?"
Willow continued to ignore the mumbles and mutters.
"I’m able to say ‘goodbye’ to Grams because I know she had no regrets in her life since she lived it to the fullest. She loved her friends and family. Anyone can see that by looking around this room. She taught me that if you surround yourself with people that care about you and people that you care about, then you are never truly alone, even when those people leave us. Thank you everyone."
Willow stepped down from the podium where Mrs. Krimble grabbed her and squeezed her tightly without a word … and without a single tear.
Next Chapter
Willow heard whispers break out again and the same voice moments earlier that referred to her as "just a kid" was now mumbling, "how old is she again?"
Willow continued to ignore the mumbles and mutters.
"I’m able to say ‘goodbye’ to Grams because I know she had no regrets in her life since she lived it to the fullest. She loved her friends and family. Anyone can see that by looking around this room. She taught me that if you surround yourself with people that care about you and people that you care about, then you are never truly alone, even when those people leave us. Thank you everyone."
Willow stepped down from the podium where Mrs. Krimble grabbed her and squeezed her tightly without a word … and without a single tear.
Next Chapter
