Southern Fried (6 page)

it all? And so close to the beginning of our encounter? Nah, me

neither. Nobody likes a funeral. Don’t worry, though; thankfully,

it was a quick one.

Once the police came and carted him away, that is.

southeRn FRied
31

Oh, now, sorry, there I go again, getting ahead of myself.

Just wanted to make sure you were still listening. People usually

zone out when you get to talking about funerals. Can’t blame

them, really. Still, best to pay attention because at least one of my

questions would soon be answered. Of course, it led to a whole

lot more, as answers frequently do. Murphy’s Law they call it.

“Fuck you, Murphy, wherever you are!”

So I took that shower I mentioned, solo this go around. I

hadn’t seen stunning hide nor slicked back hair of Zeb as of yet.

I guessed he was getting ready, too. Not that it made me feel any

better. Truth was, though, I’d already grown attached. Chalk it up

to the times, harrowing as they were. Then I got dressed. Which

left only that dreaded third agenda item.
Gulp
.

Jeeves drove around to the front of the mansion, Bentley

idling, Pearl and I standing at the top of the stairs. She looked

at me and I at her. “Fine day for it,” she managed, forcing a

smile, her black, unbelievably ginormous hat shading her from

any vestiges of solar radiation.

“Granny would’ve liked it,” I replied, slowly making my way

to the car, Pearl’s hand now in mine. “Not the sunny part, just

the fact that it’s Sunday. That means most everyone will be sober.

Nothing worse than drunks at a funeral, Granny always said.”

“It’s unseemly,” we both said in unison, followed by a laugh as

I opened the car door for her.

“Morning, Jeeves,” I said, stepping inside, perched next to

Pearl.

“Walter,” he corrected, with a heavy sigh.

“Granny liked Jeeves,” I told him, shutting my door.

“No,” said he. “That was you.”

I smiled. “And wouldn’t you know it, I’m the last Jackson

standing.” Pearl gave me a slap. Jeeves merely pulled away, shaking

his head all the while.

The last Jackson standing.
It put a chill in me, despite all that

sweltering heat, air so thick with water it was like wading through

32 Rob Rosen

a tide pool. That was the South for you. If the mosquitoes didn’t

kill you, then the humidity surely would. Or the alligators. Not to

mention the pollen count, which was shooting about a thousand

times higher than any nose should’ve been tolerating right at that

very moment.

Sorry, now I’m sounding like Granny.

In truth, it was beautiful around the estate. I stared out the

window as Jeeves slowly drove down the narrow gravel road that

led off the property. At the oaks that were Lord only knows

how many centuries old, so heavy with leaves it was amazing

they didn’t tip right on over. Pine trees so green it would’ve made

Kermit jealous, dense with cones, towering to the sky, with maple

and sycamore and ironwood filling in the gaps. Deer scampered

about, appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye, possum

too, only, you were more likely to run over one than see it

scampering about. Tire lunch, Granny called them.

I rolled down the window and stuck my head out, beams of

light brushing across my upturned face as I leaned my face toward

the sky. Birds and crickets and frogs serenaded me; flowering

shrubs and trees, magnolia blossoms so big they looked like giant

white faces, all cast off their intoxicating bouquets.

I had to think it was all for Granny’s benefit. A fitting farewell.

This, after all, was her pride and joy, the land around her home,

so much of it planted and tended to by so many succeeding

generations of us. I smiled at the thought. She might’ve been

gone, but this was her legacy. Not to mention, so was I. My smile

vanished as quickly as it had arrived. The legacy, after all, had run

smack dab into a brick wall.

“What’s gonna happen to it all, Pearl?” I whispered, staring

out into the woods.

She smiled, humming some sort of hymn. “Don’t rightly

know, boy. But don’t you fret none; it’ll all right itself, somehow.”

She closed her eyes and the smile grew brighter. “The good Lord

sure does work in mysterious ways.”

“Think
He
can offer me a clue?” I asked, now gazing up at

southeRn FRied
33

the azure sky, clouds billowing lazily to the north. “The mystery

is killing me.”

“The reading of the will is tomorrow, Trip. Suppose we’ll

figure out things then. Today is Granny’s day, though. Time to

remember her, lay her to rest, send her on her way.”

I nodded, eyes tearing up for what I was certain wouldn’t be

the last time that day. “But which way do you think she’ll be

headed?”

Pearl didn’t answer. I was sure it was a thought she’d already

thunk. Granny certainly was righteous, in her own way, but just

as equally, well, I don’t want to say evil, per se, but cantankerous

would be too nice a word. Hopefully, with all the money she’d

donated to the church throughout the years, she’d bought her

way through to whatever place she was on her way to. Again I

turned to Pearl. “You think Gabriel takes bribes?”

She smiled, her hand held up to caress my cheek. “Let’s hope

so, boy. Let’s sure hope so.”

Jeeves pulled up to the church a short while later, cars

overflowing the parking lot, a sea of dark suites, dark dresses,

and wide brimmed hats filing on inside. A space was reserved

for family, namely us. We pulled in. I inhaled, deeply, and opened

the door. A hot blast of air hit me like an open oven, tinged with

honeysuckle, jasmine, the faint scent of roses.

We three entered the church, Pearl in the middle. Like the

lone survivors of a great war, we were. Place was filled to the

rafters, too, the whole town turning out, people I hadn’t seen

since I was a child, plus a host of strange faces, most of them

turning our way as we entered, eyes glued to us.

“Now I know what Brad Pitt feels like,” I whispered out of

the side of my mouth.

Pearl snickered. “Guess that makes me Angelina Jolie.

Damned if we don’t have the same lips.”

I stifled a laugh. All things considered, it wouldn’t have been

appropriate. Ironically, Granny would’ve found it downright

hilarious. Same thing for the hordes that turned up for her

34 Rob Rosen

funeral. Hilarious, since she hated most everyone, tolerating

them at best. Still, the name Jackson was synonymous with the

town. Somehow or another, everyone was tied to it, to her, even

if it was from generations earlier. Still, these people had come

to pay their respects, despite the fact that they probably couldn’t

stand her.

In other words, she would’ve despised this spectacle. Doubly

so if no one, had in fact, shown up. The paradox of it made

me smile. And yet, Granny pretty much still won in the end:

everyone showed up
and
was miserable all at the same time. Chalk

one up for Granny. Victorious even in death. I held on to Pearl’s

hand. She turned and smiled at me. I was pretty sure she was

thinking the same thing I was. Jeeves, naturally, looked somber

all the while.

Though Jeeves pretty much always looked somber. I

remember seeing pictures of him once at Disney World for a

family reunion. He was the only one frowning in every picture,

in the whole park, more than likely. If there was a happiest place

on earth for Jeeves, it was certainly where there were no other

people. Or cars to drive. Or doors to answer. Or grannies to

answer to. I wondered what he’d do now that she was gone.

Then, all too soon, we found our pew, up front, Granny’s

coffin only a couple of feet away. Thankfully, it was a closed

casket. Granny, apparently, had already made her wishes known

on that one. “Last thing I want is for people to remember me

looking peaceful,” she apparently told her lawyer. “They wished

I’d shut up when I living; far be it from me to give them what they

asked for once I was dead.” Sounded like her, anyway. Besides,

she was probably worried that someone would swipe the family

jewels, which Pearl told me where dangling down from her good

clothes inside that coffin at that very moment. Thankfully, she

was wearing some of them when she died because the jewelry

box was still missing. And, man, I sure hoped Gabriel liked pearls

and platinum because Granny found diamonds far too showy.

I turned around before the funeral got underway. The rest of

the staff was scattered about nearby. My eyes roamed down each

southeRn FRied
35

of the pews, finally landing on Zeb’s sapphire peepers. He smiled

and waved when he saw me, my heart fairly skipping a tra la la

beat. I know, inappropriate in my timing, but I needed the boost

right about then. And it wasn’t like I popped a boner at Granny’s

funeral. Mostly.

Then the organ started and all systems were go. I gulped,

sweat trickling down my forehead, quickly turning into a torrent.

Preacher Woods moved to the podium. He’d baptized me,

married my parents, and now was sending Granny off. I’d always

hated him. Guy gave me the willies. The way he’d put his hand on

your shoulder and clamp down. The way he’d whisper in your ear,

face too close up. Fire and brimstone for the masses, butt plugs

and nipple rings in his bedroom. Molester for sure. Would’ve put

money on it. I shuddered at the thought.

Though the sermon was nice and all: Granny’s favorite Bible

quotes, stories about her good will, her commitment to the

community, her tireless work on behalf of the down and out.

I bit my lip, preventing a smile from forming. Oh, not out of

pride, mind you. Granny hated the down and out, you see. “Pull

up your own damn boot straps,” she’d say. Loudly.

Still, she dished out the money. Had to. It was the only way

to keep those asking quiet. “Just write the check,” she’d tell me.

“Don’t even let them get to talking. Otherwise, they’ll never shut

the hell on up. Damn do-gooders. Get a job and get off my front

porch.”

The check always came with a smile, too. To their faces. Soon

as that door was closed, however, her middle finger would fly up.

See, Granny loved shooting the bird. More ladylike than cussing,

she thought. Double birds for the Girl Scouts, the ones brave

enough to knock. “Their cookies taste like cardboard and cost

twice as much as those down at the Piggly Wiggly. A scam. An

out and out scam, it is. Put ‘em in the fields if you want to teach

them about the world. That’s what my daddy did for me, and just

look at how I turned out.” Needless to say, I kept my mouth shut.

Besides, if my great grandpa put her in the fields, it was only to

get him a fresh peach, seeing as the servants weren’t allowed in

36 Rob Rosen

the mansion back then either. And I hear he hated waiting for

anything. Guess the peach didn’t fall too far from the tree on

that one.

Pearl picked that moment to lean over and whisper in my ear.

“Think your Granny is rolling over in that there coffin right now

listening to all this shit?”

I laughed, then tried to cover it up with a loud sob. All eyes

turned my way. And so I repeated it. Thank goodness for all

those theater classes. Who knew that Willy Loman would come

in handy at a funeral? In any case, I was sure I looked downright

miserable at that very moment. Then again, maybe it wasn’t to

my advantage, after all.

The creepy preacher looked down at me and gave me a

condescending smile. “And now, brothers and sisters, I think

Miss Jackson’s grandson, Trip, would like to say a few words for

the dearly departed.”

No he wouldn’t! No he wouldn’t!
my brain was screaming.
Ask

Jeeves, while he’s still on the payroll!

Only, the preacher couldn’t hear my brain screaming and was

already waving me up on stage. With, of course, Pearl propelling

me up. And Pearl’s propulsion rockets could put NASA to shame.

In other words, I was up there with him, his,
yuck
, hand clamped

down on my shoulder, his,
double
-
yuck
, breath in my ear. “Just

speak from your heart, son.”

I stare down at the coffin. Granny had done well for her

final resting place. Thing must’ve cost a small fortune. Though it

wasn’t like that was what I could say to all those people.
Boy howdy,

Granny’s coffin is gonna put all yours to shame.
Yes, even I knew that

wouldn’t fly. I might be shallow but I’m not dense. It’s a fine line.

A mighty fine line.

Anyway, I owed it to her to do this. And there wasn’t anyone

else who knew her like I did that could say the words that meant

the most. Maybe the archangel Gabriel was listening right at that

moment, horn at the ready. Maybe my words could sway him to