On the Other Side of the Bridge (10 page)

Brother Elrod stopped by. He told Lonnie and his dad that he had been stunned by the news and wanted to extend his deepest sympathies. He also said that the Winfield Road Presbyterian Church was available for the funeral service if they wished to use it, and that he was willing to preside over the service if they needed him. Lonnie's dad told him arrangements hadn't been made yet, but that he would let him know.

Another unannounced visit came from Mr. Barnaby and his wife. Mrs. Barnaby had baked a chicken casserole and a tray of brownies for them. During their visit, Mr. Barnaby gave no hint that he recognized Lonnie as one of the boys from the warehouse, nor did he say anything about having gone to Wyatt Middle School.

After they left, Lonnie's grandparents Salinas showed up. Lonnie's grandma brought a pot of
caldo de res
, a Mexican beef soup, and a package of corn tortillas. His dad told her about Mrs. Barnaby's casserole and that they had planned to have it for lunch, but she ignored him and removed four bowls from the cabinet to serve the
caldo
.

While they ate, Lonnie's grandpa discussed preliminary funeral plans he had made. “I want Socorro to write Becky's obituary,” he said. “Socorro teaches English, so she ought to be able to write something good.” He creased his brows. “And Richard, I want Beto to be the official spokesperson for the family, you hear? If you get any calls from the media, you give them Beto's number and tell them to talk to him.”

Lonnie's dad nodded dutifully. Still, it irritated him that his father-in-law was insinuating that he wasn't capable of talking to reporters without saying something inappropriate.

He told his in-laws about Brother Elrod's offer. Lonnie's grandpa said he would take it into consideration and then continued laying out his plans for the funeral, without giving Lonnie's dad an opportunity to make other suggestions.

“Do you have Becky's insurance papers?” he asked. “I want to go over them to see what kind of coverage she has.”

Lonnie's dad wiped his hands on his lap. “Becky, um … well, she always handled the money, and, um …”

“I think I know where they are,” Lonnie said. “Mom keeps all the important papers in a brown metal box in the study closet.”

As he stood, he realized he should have said
kept
, not
keeps
. His mother wouldn't be keeping anything in the brown metal box anymore. Lonnie returned with the box, and his grandpa rummaged through it until he found the insurance policy.

“It's not much,” he said, sounding disappointed. “Hopefully, it'll be enough to cover the cost of the funeral.”

Late that afternoon, Lonnie finally heard from Axel. He apologized for not having called earlier, saying he had left his phone at home. He told Lonnie how sorry he was to hear about his mother. “My whole family is,” he said, although Lonnie couldn't imagine Axel's parents caring anything about
el vago
.

He told Axel about Mr. Barnaby's suspicions and asked if he had shown up at school. Axel said he didn't think so. Then he started yammering about how they were going to get in big trouble. But after everything Lonnie had gone through, Mr. Barnaby was the least of his worries.

He and his dad watched the five o'clock evening news. It opened with the story of the shooting. This time, Channel 4 showed a photo of Lonnie's mother that his dad had emailed to the station. It was a Glamour Shots photograph she had gotten made the year before. In it, she smiled coyly, holding the collar of her glittery black jacket to her chin. Lonnie thought she looked incredibly beautiful. Still, he wished his dad hadn't sent in that particular photo. His mother had been murdered, but the picture made her look as if she was going to a party.

The news also aired a clip of a press conference Lonnie's uncle Beto held outside his house, with Lonnie's grandpa and Uncle Rubén standing beside him. Uncle Beto thanked the Marsville Police Department for their outstanding efforts in apprehending the suspect. He also called for justice and swift action against the man who took his sister's life.

Lonnie's dad griped about being left out of the press conference. “Becky was my wife. I belong there with them.”

Lonnie wasn't surprised that his dad hadn't been included in the press conference, or that his grandpa hadn't allowed him to help with the funeral plans. His grandpa had often been critical of Lonnie's dad, accusing him of lacking ambition. During one of their many confrontations, he told his son-in-law that a real man wouldn't sit at home doing nothing, while his wife worked to support him.

That night, Lonnie dreamed about his mother. She lay on a gurney, zipped up in a body bag. All of a sudden, she opened her eyes and sat up. She turned and grinned …

No! He shoved the image out of his mind. He refused to think of her that way, not even in a nightmare.

T
HE FUNERAL SERVICE WAS HELD
the following Monday at the Winfield Road Presbyterian Church. Lonnie's dad had wanted to have it earlier, but the service had to wait until an autopsy report and a police investigation could be completed.

Lonnie couldn't believe the number of students from his school that showed up. He learned later that his principal, Dr. Lambert, had sent a letter home, notifying parents that, with their permission, students would be allowed to leave school early to attend the service.

Axel and his family sat a few rows behind him. Across them were some of the other guys — Noe, José and Fernando. Lonnie was glad to see Yvette. She sat in a back pew with Jo Marie and Patricia.

Herman Gilmore didn't make it, for which Lonnie was thankful. Mr. Barnaby and his wife were in attendance, and he was afraid that if Mr. Barnaby saw Herman, he might recognize him.

The temperature outside had climbed to well over a hundred degrees, and the sanctuary was hot and muggy. Lonnie loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. His grandma had bought him the tie and a sports coat for the funeral because he didn't have any dressy clothes to wear.

Lonnie's grandparents Salinas sat with him in the front pew, along with his dad, his grandparents Rodríguez, and his uncles, Rubén and Beto. Other relatives, many of them whose names Lonnie didn't know, sat behind them.

In front of the church, his mother's casket lay atop a metal trolley, surrounded by floral wreaths and photographs. His grandpa had picked out a rose-colored casket to match the pink dress Lonnie's mother would be buried in. Lonnie's dad had suggested that maybe she should be dressed in one of her security uniforms, but his father-in-law balked at the idea and answered him with an emphatic
no!

Minutes before the service began, Gilly Sandoval, Joe Lara and Mario Hernández showed up with their guitars and an accordion. Lonnie's grandpa had words with his son-in-law for not informing him ahead of time that Los Brujos were going to take part in the service. Nevertheless, he agreed to let them perform.

After an opening greeting and a prayer by Brother Elrod, Lonnie's dad joined Gilly, Joe and Mario onstage to sing “How Great Thou Art.” They were followed by Lonnie's cousin Socorro's reading of the obituary she had written for
The Marsville Monitor
.

Another cousin, Amanda, read Psalm twenty-three and afterward, led the congregation in prayer.

While everyone had their heads bowed, Lonnie glanced back to see who else was in attendance. His heart jumped when he thought he saw the guard-thing from his dreams standing against a wall, grinning and waving at him. But it turned out to be a regular Wyndham Security guard who was holding up his hand and mouthing his own prayer.

Tim Beasley, the church music director, asked the congregation to rise for the singing of “Great is Thy Faithfulness.”

Lonnie had no desire to sing. He didn't even pick up a hymn book. From where he stood, he could see inside the casket and it tore him up to see his mother in there. It also made him angry. Why did God have to take her away from him? If it was to punish him, couldn't He have come up with something less severe? Was God that heartless? If He needed another soul for His collection, why couldn't He have taken someone like Moses, the homeless guy? Moses served no purpose in life other than to hang out by the I-27 bridge and pester people for money. Or God could have taken Lonnie's science teacher, Mr. Malone, who already looked like walking death.

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see
.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

The longer the hymn went, the angrier Lonnie grew toward God. If His faithfulness was so great, why was his mother lying dead in the casket?

Uncle Beto delivered the eulogy. He told funny stories about growing up with his sister, how when they were little, she used to put dresses and make-up on him, as if he was her toy doll. He talked about his sister's sense of humor and how she loved to tell jokes. He spoke about her marriage and how much she loved Richard, which Lonnie thought was weird for him say, because Uncle Beto couldn't stand his brother-in-law. He also talked
about his sister's love for Lonnie and how much he meant to her. He mentioned her dedication to her job and the numerous commendations she had earned. Uncle Beto concluded his eulogy by saying, “Not only have I lost my sister, I've also lost one of my best friends.”

Lonnie couldn't help but think that if Uncle Beto could see all those wonderful qualities, why couldn't God? Why did He decide:
Sorry, lady, the world doesn't need someone like you
.

By the time Brother Elrod got up to preach, Lonnie's eyes were filled with tears, not just of grief but also of rage. Brother Elrod looked around the room and studied each mourner's face. Placing both hands on the pulpit, he leaned into the microphone, and in an authoritative voice asked, “Is there balm in Gilead?”

Lonnie had no idea where Gilead was, nor did he care if it had any balm in it. And he especially didn't want to hear anymore about God's grace and mercy. What he really wanted to do was to run out of the sanctuary and flee to Catfish Creek, but he couldn't. So he sat and listened to Brother Elrod preach about the balm in Gilead. Or was it a bomb that was in Gilead? He didn't care.

After the service, people came up to hug him and to offer words of compassion. Lonnie realized they meant well, but he didn't find any comfort in hearing that his mother was in a better place, or that her death was somehow part of God's plan. If his mother's death was part of God's plan, then as far as Lonnie was concerned, God's plan stunk.

Jo Marie wrapped her arms around Lonnie's neck and said, “Please know that my prayers are with you.”

He peeled her off and asked, “Can your prayers bring back my mom?”

“Uh, well, no. What I meant …”

“If they can't, then they aren't any good, are they?”

“Lonnie, Jo Marie was only trying to be nice,” her friend Patricia said.

“Sure she was. Just like she was trying to be nice when she told me that God was going to execute terrible vengeance against me.” Lonnie sneered at Jo Marie and asked, “Are you happy now? Are you thrilled that God punished me by killing my mom?”

Patricia gasped. “Lonnie, God didn't have anything to do with what happened to your mom. It could've happened to anyone.”

“That's okay, Pat,” Jo Marie said. “Lonnie's hurting right now. He didn't mean anything by it.” She squeezed his hand. “I'll be praying for you.”

Lonnie and his family drove in a procession to Pineview Cemetery. They didn't get to ride in a limo because, in trying to keep the costs down, his grandpa hadn't ordered one.

The September sun beat down on them unmercifully. Lonnie was burning up in his coat, but his grandma refused to let him take it off. He was thankful that his Sunday school teacher, Mrs. Finley, had thought to bring water bottles to the cemetery, and she and her husband handed them out as people arrived.

A green tent and chairs were set up at the gravesite, and Lonnie sat between his grandparents Salinas in the front row. Six men, whom he was told were his great uncles, but he couldn't recall ever having met, carried his mother's casket from the hearse and placed it on top of a lowering device in front of the tent.

Once again, Lonnie's dad and Los Brujos performed an impromptu piece, this time a Spanish song titled, “
En las manos del Ser Divino
.”

Brother Elrod read from the book of Romans. He preached a short sermon, and then led everyone in prayer. When he was done, a couple of workers from the Pineview Cemetery lowered the casket, and everyone in attendance was given an opportunity to sprinkle soil from a container into the grave.

With tears in his eyes, Lonnie scooped a handful of dirt and whispered, “I love you, Mommy,” before dropping the soil into the ground.

They returned to the church, where some of the ladies had prepared a meal. Lonnie walked around the fellowship hall to get reacquainted with some relatives he hadn't seen in a long time. He met up with Enrique, a cousin his age. What Lonnie remembered most about him was that when Enrique was little, he was so bony, his ribcage protruded from his body. He always smelled of urine and seemed to have a permanent dirt ring around his neck.

Now, Enrique stood five-feet eight and weighed a hundred seventy pounds. He didn't have a dirt ring around his neck, and the only smell Lonnie detected from him was cologne. Enrique attended Red Adair Middle School in Abilene, where he played wide receiver on their football team.

Lonnie was telling him about how he hoped to play football some day when a shouting match erupted behind them. He turned and saw his dad and his grandpa Salinas arguing.

“But you don't have a job, Richard. How are you going to support Lonnie if you don't work?”