Riverbreeze: Part 1 (29 page)

Presently the sobs ceased. Sniffling
something awful, Jamie rubbed his face across Robert’s shoulder,
using his shirt like a towel to dry his eyes. Robert pushed him
away, scolding, “Do not do that!” He turned his head to look at the
spot where Jamie had left a nasty wet patch. “What the hell do you
think I am, your goddamned snot rag?”

Jamie just smiled innocently, then
deliberately made a disgusting noise hawking up phlegm, walked to
the window, opened it and spit. When he turned back to Robert, all
he said was, “Thank you.”

“Christ, you’re disgusting!” Robert
exclaimed.

Jamie laughed, feeling better. Throwing a
companionable arm around Robert’s shoulder, he said, “Come on, big
brother. We should go. Everyone is waiting.”

Chapter Eight: A Beloved Man is laid to Rest

The funeral for Francis Tyler was about to
begin. The guests had waited patiently, standing in groups around
the freshly dug gravesite and behind two benches that had been
brought from the kitchen and placed before the grave for the
immediate family. Some had reminisced, even chuckling at some of
their memories; some had spoken fondly of their good friend while
weeping quietly; some had prayed and some had stood silent,
listening to the breeze rustle the last autumn leaves on the trees
while pondering their own fates.

The coffin, which had been constructed from
special boards that Tyler had saved over the years, had been placed
on the ground in front of the grave. A bunch of holly branches with
their bright red berries lovingly picked by Maureen and her girls,
lay on top of it. The two servants who had dug the grave in an
amazingly fast time stood off to the side, the cool air chilling
their sweat-soaked skin. They had been invited to stay for the
service along with Sally and the remainder of the servants. All but
two were present. Walter had been chosen to mind the beagles and
the other servant, Edward Blockhaws, was still recovering in the
servants’ quarters. They had no idea what was to become of them
now; there had not been time for Phillip to speak to them. Their
contracts of indenture stated that they were to serve Francis
Tyler, his heirs and assignees. That meant that Maureen and Phillip
could do whatever they wanted with them, keep them or transfer
their service to someone else. If they were to be transferred, they
could only hope for a master as kind as Mr. Tyler had been.

Maureen, Phillip and their children were
already seated on one of the benches. Maureen was holding up well
despite her overwhelming grief, but her husband had his arm around
her and the warmth from his body comforted her. She had also taken
comfort from the kind words and condolences of her father’s
numerous friends and acquaintances. She stared straight ahead now,
the sight of her father’s coffin blurred as a result of her
tear-filled eyes.

Elizabeth and Evelyn were seated on the other
bench, next to each other. Elizabeth held Robin on her lap and
Robin was happily hugging his cloth dog, oblivious to the tragedy,
surprisingly quiet, his thumb in his mouth, her cloak wrapped
around both of them. It had grown chilly with the setting sun and
Elizabeth had not been able to find a coat for him.

The girls hadn’t spoken much as they had
waited for Robert and Jamie to arrive. They didn’t have to; both
knew that they were remembering their own father’s simple funeral,
how ashamed they had been, how humiliated they had felt that their
father had been buried as a pauper. He had been laid to rest on the
north side of the churchyard, the shaded side which was away from
the sun and used only for burials of the unbaptized and suicides.
His friends, his business associates and the few distant relatives
had all deserted him. Not one of them had had the decency to pay a
minister’s fee or provide a headstone or a coffin or defend his
character. Elizabeth and Evelyn would always be saddened and
angered by that, but at least he hadn’t been buried in the street
with a stake driven through his heart as was the customary
procedure for a victim of suicide.

Elizabeth shifted slightly on the hard bench.
Events were proceeding along quicker than she had expected. It had
been a complete surprise when it was announced that the funeral
would be held this evening. But Maureen had explained that since
everyone was already here, there was no need to wait; and she had
also known that her father had already prepared for his death, as
was customary, by keeping a linen shroud and special boards for a
coffin in readiness.

A shiver went through her as she remembered
how Maureen had gone through Tyler’s chest in his room and pulled
out the shroud. Maureen had held it lovingly for a moment, then had
shown Elizabeth how she had embroidered her father’s initials in
one corner. And then in a matter-of-fact voice, Maureen had told
Elizabeth where her own shroud was kept just in case. Elizabeth
hadn’t known what to say; she had never kept a shroud for herself
and neither had Evelyn. Both of them believed they had many, many
years left to live. But in a place where death was a common and
inevitable occurrence, she supposed it was practical for one to
prepare for it throughout one’s entire life.

Thomas Harrison, the minister, continued to
mingle with the guests. He offered prayers and sympathetic words in
his low, soothing voice. In his left hand he carried his well-worn
copy of the Book of Common Prayer, the other hand left free to
offer a kind touch or a warm hand clasp. He had officiated at
countless funerals, sometimes traveling a full day to reach a
planter’s home for the standard fee of 45 shillings. Phillip had
already paid him from money that had been set aside by Tyler in
anticipation of this day.

Finally the two brothers appeared and
everyone turned to watch them. They moved as one, Jamie slowing his
steps to match Robert’s limping one. Elizabeth was glad when she
saw how they walked together, seemingly united once again. Robert
appeared subdued and penitent, perhaps feeling guilty for not
helping Jamie and Phillip prepare his father’s body for burial.

Elizabeth heard whispering from the crowd
behind her. She glanced back, glaring at the participants. Many
were frowning at Robert, their disapproval of his behavior evident
in their expressions. Word had spread quickly about how he had
spoken disrespectfully to the doctor and some had sympathized with
him, but most had criticized him. The doctor was a very
well-respected and well-liked man.

As they came closer, Jamie acknowledged as
many of the quests as he could with a polite nod and smile. He
nodded to Maureen, Phillip, their children, and the minister before
taking his place on the second bench, sitting next to Evelyn and
putting his arm around her. He then kissed her tenderly, not caring
what anyone thought of his display of affection. But no one minded;
in fact they highly approved of the match for they had thought that
the time for him to take a wife was long overdue.

When Robin saw his father, his face lit up,
he removed his thumb from his mouth and called out, “Daddy!”
Holding up the cloth dog, he added, “Doggy!”

Despite the fact that Robert was out of favor
with the guests for the moment, they smiled and chuckled at Robin,
for the sturdy lad was a bright symbol of hope and life among this
scene of death and finality. But they were saddened also because
the boy had lost his grandfather and would never remember him.

“I see, son.” Robert said, arriving at the
first bench. He bent to say some words to Maureen, but she looked
straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. “Maureen…” he murmured, low and
pleading, but it was Phillip who responded by curtly saying, “Sit
down, Robert. ‘Tis getting late.”

Robert jerked as if he had been struck, but
he bent to kiss Maureen’s cheek nevertheless. She never moved, and
he straightened, humiliated by her rejection.

When he moved closer to Elizabeth and Robin,
Robin purposefully pulled himself up on Elizabeth’s lap, grabbing
anything available. Then he stood on her lap, his little feet
grinding into the muscles of her thighs. A grimace formed on her
face and quick tears came to her eyes as his heel hit a
particularly sensitive spot. She tried to lift him, but it wasn’t
necessary because Robert was there to help, lifting Robin up by one
arm around his waist. Then he carried him, dangling, to the end of
the bench where he sat down furthest away from everyone else.

Once Robert was settled and had leant his
stick against the bench, he held Robin close with both arms, trying
to quiet him for the boy wanted to chatter now that he had his dog
again. The minister had moved to the head of the assembled guests.
With a clearing of his throat to gain everyone’s attention, he
intoned, “Let us pray.”

He began with an evening prayer of general
thanksgiving. Everyone bowed their head while he intoned.
“
Almighty God, Father of all mercies, we, thine
unworthy servants do give thee most humble and hearty thanks for
all thy goodness and loving kindness to us, and to all men. We
bless thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of
this life; but above all, for thine inestimable love in the
redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ; for the means of
grace, and for the hope of glory…”

Robert whispered in Robin’s ear to shush him,
and he felt everyone’s censorious looks like little needles in his
back. But Elizabeth smiled to herself, peeking over at them,
sensing Robert’s discomfiture. Again she thought how adorable they
were and how happy she was that they were to become her new family.
She knew it would not be easy in the beginning to be his wife.
Maureen had explained, with much gentleness, how much Robert still
missed his first wife. But Elizabeth was positive that with
patience and compassion, she could quickly win him over. And once
she started giving him children, she was positive he would learn to
love her.

Coming out of her thoughts, she now focused
her attention on the minister who was continuing his sermon. His
voice was strong and determined, his whole being suffused with the
need to preach. “…
and, we beseech thee, give us
that due sense of all thy mercies, that our hearts may be
unfeignedly thankful, and that we show forth thy praise, not only
with our lips, but in our lives, by giving up our selves to thy
service, and by walking before thee in holiness and righteousness
all our days; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and
the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, world without end.
Amen.”

“Amen.” Everyone repeated, except for Robert.
He had barely been listening to the prayer, his focus being on
quieting Robin. But to tell the truth, his heart really wasn’t in
it anyway; ever since his wife had died, he had felt betrayed by
God. No amount of praying had saved her; no amount of praying had
saved this man lying cold and still in his coffin; and at this time
in his life, no amount of praying would bring him back to the
fold.

He also didn’t join in the reciting of the
Lord’s prayer, but he did hear Jamie’s voice, deep and sincere with
no hesitation, the words coming automatically after years of daily
praying. He also heard Elizabeth’s and Evelyn’s similar, moderately
high female voices, their accent different from Jamie’s and his
own, more cultured, their words enunciated precisely.

At one point during the prayer Elizabeth
peeked over at Robert, wondering why he was not participating. This
was something else she would have to accept, his lack of faith
along with his continued grief for his first wife.

Robin was standing on his father’s lap,
quietly watching all the people over Robert’s shoulder. He seemed
to be fascinated by the combined voices of all the folk, speaking
as one, following the precise rhythm of the prayer. Someone behind
them must have smiled at Robin because he let out a giggle, but no
one seemed to mind.

Next Elizabeth led them in the singing of the
100th psalm. It had been arranged beforehand that she would assume
the role of the clerk of the church, singing each line so that the
folk could repeat it. As she stood facing everyone, composed and
confident, she sang the first line in perfect pitch. Her voice was
clear and beautiful and out of the corner of her eye, she saw
Robert watching her. But he did not stand when the Tyler family did
and he did not sing when all the others did. He remained silent and
sullen while everyone else joined in, their voices lifting to the
first stars in the darkening sky.

Robin, fascinated once again and not seeing
his father doing what everyone else was doing, piped up, “Sing,
Daddy, sing!”

All eyes turned to Robert and reluctantly he
stood. Holding Robin in his arms, he sang, focusing solely on his
son, ignoring everyone else. Elizabeth was pleased to see that he
seemed to know every word. Finally, while singing the final notes,
he looked up. His eyes met Elizabeth’s and she smiled sweetly at
him, approving of his participation.