Chapter 27: Saying Goodbye

On a bench in Lincoln Park, Laura Dell flipped through the pages of Herbert’s life. He found letters to more than just Malynne. He wrote to friends from the war, fallen men he was unable to protect. He told the men their sons were well, that he’d sought them out when he returned to the states. Herbert gave the young men the goodbye they’d never receive from their fathers. He wrote about the things he could not change, the ones that brought heat to his face to think about, the ones he could not speak of. The notebooks had scattered pictures. Some of them were from the war; the names of the subjects were inscribed beside the photos. They live among us even today was written beneath the photograph of a sparrow. Laura Dell opened the last notebook and stared into the eyes of a woman, with dark hair and beautiful features that could only be Malynne. Laura Dell closed her eyes, took a deep breath and bit her lips all in vain. Her eyes filled and soon overflowed. She threw her face into her hands in hopes of subduing her sobs, wary of the people walking through the park.

Several minutes letter, Laura Dell read the inscription beneath the photograph through swollen eyes. It’s hard to come home from such tragedy, knowing how many did not, and meet this beautiful woman. Why I, Herbert Walters, deserve this, I shall never know. Malynne, you make surviving not seem like a terrible crime. You make my life worth living. Laura Dell shut the notebook, gathered her things, and headed to the funeral home.

***

“Ms. Dell, Dr. Walters was lucky to have such a good friend take command of his funeral. The obituary you wrote was beautiful, and the honor guard arrived this morning.” The funeral director, Jane Hill, patted Laura Dell on the back.

“Mrs. Hill, thank you for being so patient with me as we figured all of the details out. I realized Dr. Walters did not have the extended family to plan his funeral. Funerals are so much to plan. He deserved more than to pass without acknowledgement for everything he’s done.”

“Well, Ms. Dell. People will be arriving soon, please let me know if you require anything.”

“Thank you.” Laura Dell walked around in front of the entrance to the chapel. She had not shed a tear since she sat at that bench in Lincoln Park two days ago. She’d gone straight to the museum. Eddie would be able to help make plans for the funeral. It was nothing like her father’s. Then, there had been a full house. People in and out. Between Siloam Baptist church and the neighbors, Laura Dell’s family did not have to worry about buying or preparing food from the day her father died to a solid week after the funeral had ended. In Chicago, Laura Dell had to order pizza. Eddie brought lunch to her apartment one afternoon and helped with phone calls, but Laura Dell had been on her own for the most part. John William wanted her to just come home. So did her mother. She quit answering their phone calls.

Within moments, the doors opened. People came through the doors like scattered leaves blowing in the wind. There was never a large group. Laura Dell saw several men from the ornithological society. Eddie and Dr. Feinman arrived at the same time. A few men arrived in Air Force uniforms. They all past Laura Dell in silence to sit in the chapel, which had almost thirty people when the service began. Just as Laura Dell turned to head into the chapel, she felt a tap on her shoulder. John William’s strong arms wrapped her into a tight hug.

***

In Granville Cemetery, Laura Dell sat beneath the green tent on the folding chairs and wished she was a thousand miles away. When the Honor Guard stepped away from the mahogany casket, she was back at her father’s funeral in Alabama. She saw John William beside her and his swollen eyes pushed her into stifled sobs. Her mother, on the other hand, looked fine, which Laura Dell could not understand. Laura Dell knew now, sitting in front of Herbert’s casket, that her mother was not fine. That she’d spent the last three days doing the paperwork. That she hadn’t let herself think about what the paperwork was for.

After brief words from the preacher, the Honor Guard surrounded the casket and turned for the salute. The attendees stood. Fifty feet to their right, seven men in uniform pointed their guns upward. Laura Dell closed her eyes. The first round cracked the dam Laura Dell had built with mounds of paperwork and phone calls. John William looped his arm through his sisters and laced his fingers into hers as the second round sent a shutter through her body. The third round cracked.

The Honor Guard mechanically began to remove the flag. With sharp, stiff movements, they folded and smoothed the flag over the body of Herbert Walters. As they formed the small triangle, Laura Dell realized what would happen next. She imagined Malynne, grayed with age, wearing a black cardigan should be standing in her position. The young woman who directed the Honor Guard snapped toward Laura Dell. She stepped forward and knelt down to one knee at Laura Dell’s feet. John William’s strength kept her standing. The young woman lifted the flag and spoke. Laura Dell did not hear a single word the woman said, but accepted the flag.

When the woman stepped away, time stopped for Laura Dell. The silence overwhelmed her ears. Then, a bugle rang out across the graveyard. As the taps played, the last few months flashed through Laura Dell’s memory. She saw the old man, who looked as if old age did not come naturally. She remembered the tweed coat with the crest she had yet to identify. She saw the childlike wonder in Herbert’s eyes as he watched a little boy in a red baseball cap discover he felt looking at fossils of creatures. She saw his friendly face greeting her as she stepped into the Dead Yellowhammer that first night. She saw him standing in her doorway in a top hat and walking down the street, pretending that he didn’t really need his cane. She saw the light in his eyes when he left the hospital to have a smoke and hop on the L. A smile, more genuine than any she’d put on since January, rose to Laura Dell’s face. She’d always heard the taps are the hardest, that they signaled the end of the funeral. The end of a life. Her father’s funeral ended with a prayer, and a steady break away of people. Nothing meant the end, they just kind of left. She’d quit her job suddenly. No last day. Laura Dell found comfort in the lone sound of the bugle in the green tent in the big empty cemetery that meant that something had indeed, ended.

After a moment of silence, Laura Dell and John William filed out of the tent. The funeral director announced that a small, private reception would be held at Standee’s Coffee Shop, where Herbert and Malynne spent many evenings. Laura Dell and John William took their place toward the entrance to the parking lot to say thank you to everyone who had come to the funeral and further extend the invitation to the reception. When Mr. Feinman approached, John William’s shoulders broadened and his chest swelled.

“Ms. Dell, I am so sorry to hear about Dr. Walters. I know this is an awful time to tell you this, but when things settle down, I would be honored if you would come speak with me at the museum. The Board of Directors was not happy to hear about what happened. They told me I should not have been so hard on you and that the Cenozoic Time Machine was by far the best-run exhibit we’ve had in quite a while. I hate to admit it, but they are right.” Dr. Feinman forced a smile onto his face.

“You hate to admit it?” John William answered. “If that was supposed to be a compliment, you need to try again, but you’re right. Now is not the time. My sister will— ”

“Dr. Feinman, please excuse my brother. I do appreciate what you are trying to do and I will consider it, but as you said, now is not the time. I will think about this and will notify the museum to setup a meeting if I feel like that’s what I need to do in a few days. Thank you.” Laura Dell offered a faint smile and her hand.

Mr. Feinman shook it. “Thank you, Ms. Dell.” He walked away, carefully avoiding the gaze of John William. Laura Dell met several young men who were sons of the men Dr. Walters described and wrote letters to in his notebooks. They promised to tell her all they knew of Herbert at the coffee shop and continued. The young woman in charge of the Honor Guard approached and gave Laura Dell three of the shotgun shells from the twenty-one-gun salute and said her prayers would be with her in the coming months. The men from the ornithological society, along with their wives offered condolences and inquired after the sparrow’s health. Laura Dell made a mental note to check on the bird later that evening. They said their goodbyes and wished her luck with the future. Eddie was the last to head toward the parking lot. He face was stained with tears, but he offered to drive Laura Dell and John William. They got into his old Toyota Corona and headed to Standee’s.