Grave Dancing

By

MK Mancos

    Cars were still going by on their way to the cemetery. The line of metal twisted and slithered along the two-lane road like a great, multi-colored serpent in search of prey. Liz slid her dark glasses down over cold, gray eyes and counted each car as it followed solemnly behind the hearse.

     Sunshine bounced off windshields as the cars passed. It always rained in movies when the main characters have the unfortunate circumstance to attend a funeral. Obviously, real life did not subscribe to such clichéd devices. Death was supposed to be a time of sorrow, but sometimes it was a time of liberation.

     The steady procession continued on, passing Liz at the crossroads. It looked to be a large turnout for someone who claimed he had no friends, but then that was his way, always ready to diminish his impact in the fabric of others' lives. Tom used to joke that the only time he would ever get to ride in a limo would be when he died. The man must have been psychic.

     Liz did not attend the memorial service. Though her attendance would have gotten under Tom's skin--which in turn would have made her smile--hypocrisy was something she couldn't stomach. The man may have been self-deprecating, but he sure knew how to shovel humiliation on his lovers.

     The last of the cars finally rolled through the intersection, and the police officer directing traffic motioned for her to go. She eased her car in behind the last vehicle and flicked her lights on to blend in with the procession. Just because she did not feel the need to sit through a lengthy church service did not mean she had to skip the burial. Besides, she needed to see the casket swallowed by the hungry gullet of earth. Then, and only then, would she breathe easy.

     Sweet Eternity Cemetery was situated in a quiet, dignified tract of land on the outskirts of Deer Creek, New Jersey. Miles of rolling hills and farmlands abutted the private resting places for some of the area's most prestigious families. There was a subtle irony in Tom's burial plot, since he lived far beyond his means and the banks were closing in.

     "A large insurance policy is indeed a thing of beauty," Liz mused as she took in the serenity of the vista before her.

     The gravesite sat on top of a hill at the very back of the cemetery. Liz parked and began walking slowly behind the other mourners. Wind blew her long raven hair into her face, partially obscuring her view. With a nervous hand she pushed it back, tucking the long length under the collar of her black jacket.

     Of course she had worn black, though underneath her outerwear she had donned a bright red bra and panties. If she couldn't celebrate on the outside, she could certainly do so on the inside. No one need know that of all the people attending Tom's burial, she alone--the one he professed to love above all others--rejoiced at his demise.

     "Liz?" A voice came from behind her.

     She stopped and slowly turned. Her heartbeat kicked up to overdrive.

     Of all the people to stop her, did it have to be Tom's ex-wife? Guilt made a large lump in her throat that she tried to swallow down.

     Liz walked to the petite blonde with whom she had developed an odd camaraderie and held out her arms to her. "Hello, Carly. How are you holding up?"

     "Fine. A little nervous" They gave one another hugs and air kisses then started up the hill arm in arm.

     "Me, too." Liz leaned in a little closer and whispered. "It'll be fine. We just need to get through today."

     "I keep telling myself that." Carly laughed. It was a haunted, hollow sound. "But I don't think I believe me."

     Silence stretched between them with only the sound of the wind whipping willow branches and the click of high heels on pavement cutting through the breech.

     They came to the gravesite and stood on the fringes, away from the concerned glances of Tom's family and colleagues. Evelyn, Tom's mother, looked over at the two women and waved them forward. Her dime store jewelry glittered in mock brilliance under the fall sun.

     Carly placed her slender fingers in Liz's and held tight.

     "I don't want to go over there," she whispered, her lips trembling as she spoke.

     "Neither do I, but I don't think we have a choice. She's saved us chairs with the family."

     They moved forward and took the vacant seats. Liz sent Evelyn a smile of appreciation, though she would have preferred to stay in the rear of the crowd.

     A somber priest opened a Bible and began to read words of comfort. Liz stared forward, pretending to concentrate on the wisdom and reverence of God's teachings. The words tumbled over the air losing their meaning somewhere between the priest's lips and Liz's ears. How could anyone find sorrow in the death of such a man? Did no one except Liz realize Tom liked the sound of a woman's screams when he inflicted pain? Did no one else know he could be sweet and gentle for months before the need to inflict pain would overwhelm him into leaving marks on pale, female flesh where no one but he would see? Did no one understand that he used strength to overcome his victims, and yet his heart was so fragile he couldn't even take cold medicine without putting himself in an arrhythmia?

     Liz turned her eyes to the woman seated on her right. Carly was a beautiful, delicate woman who had survived a ten-year marriage to Tom. Not once, in the two years Liz had known her, had Carly ever spoken an ill word of her ex-husband. They both told Liz the same story; the divorce was amicable and they remained friends.

     Carly glanced at Liz quickly before diverting her eyes.

     Nerves tingled along the fine hairs on the back of Liz's neck. Did Carly know? Was her guilt visible on her face?

     As the service ended, those gathered turned from the gravesite, offering comfort to the bereaved parents as they passed. Liz wished they would all leave so she could finally find some closure.

     A shadow fell across Liz's lap. She looked up into Evelyn's tearstained face. Chubby fingers caressed her cheek, sliding downward until they held her chin in a gentle grasp.

     "Tom loved you so much. He always said there would never be another like you."

     A smile came out to curl the very corners of Liz'a mouth. "Believe me when I say there will never be another like him either." God willing, she added internally.

     Cigarette-wrinkled lips pressed a papery kiss to her cheek before the woman took her husband's bony arm and headed for the car.

     As the mourners filtered away from the gravesite the attendants began to hover close by. Liz looked to her grieving, steadfast companion still seated beside her. What would Carly do if she knew the truth?

     "Did you love him?" Carly asked, looking not at Liz but the rose-draped coffin.

     So this was it? Carly had probably suspected all along that there was something more going on than a mere cardiac arrest.

     Liz took a deep breath in and held it for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts before answering. Sometimes a half-truth was better than a bold lie.

     "At times."

     A tear glistened on Carly's lash before a blink pushed it over the edge and it plunged down her cheek. "He was a miserable son of a bitch."

     "Excuse me?" Liz asked, not sure she heard the derogatory words coming from the fragile blonde.

     "I couldn't help myself," she continued. "He wanted me back and I couldn't resist. You know how persuasive he could be."

     "You and he…?"

     Carly nodded. "He said he'd changed, and you didn't seem to have been mistreated. I thought he had changed this time."

     Liz took both Carly's hands in hers. The fingers were icy, the color leeched. She began to chafe them to try and bring the warmth back. Liz had thought her struggles were apparent. "I'm so sorry. I should have warned you. I didn't know you still had feelings for him."

     "So, you understand why I had to do it?" Carly pleaded, big blue eyes growing wider, as if she could use them to force her will on Liz.

     Adrenaline kicked Liz low in the belly. "I understand. What did you do?"

     Carly took a few slow, deep breaths then said, "I emptied the powder in his heart medication and filled them with stimulants."

     Liz looked to the cemetery workers hovering nearby, making sure they couldn't overhear the conversation. A low, throaty laugh of exhilaration bubbled up from the depths of guilt. "Oh, you precious little woman. So did I."